  Twink and Tom were utterly bewildered at their friend's disappearance. They didn't know what to do next. Twiffle turned to King Ticket and Queen Curtain on the stage and demanded: "Where is the Shaggy Man?" King Ticket looked up innocently. "Why, has he gone somewhere?" "Certainly he has gone somewhere," said Twiffle, who was becoming angry. "And you had better tell us where. Don't forget that the Shaggy Man is an important personage of the Land of Oz. If anything happens to him you will be sorry." "Pooh!" sniffed King Ticket. "We know all about the Land of Oz and its silly girl ruler, Ozma. But your famous Shaggy Man had not even heard of the Valley of Romance. What can anyone in Oz do? They don't even know of our existence." "I wouldn't be too sure of that," declared Twiffle with more courage than he felt. "Anyway," continued King Ticket musingly, "the Land of Oz is vastly over-rated. Why, as far as I know, there isn't a single theater in all the country!" "And so," began Queen Curtain quietly, "why don't you children just make yourselves comfortable until dinner time? Then you may join us for the meal and afterwards you shall be our guests in the Royal Box to witness the performance of our new play." Twiffle was aroused now. He climbed right up on the arm of King Ticket's chair. "We don't want your dinner. We don't want to see your play. All we want is the Shaggy Man and then we shall continue our journey." "Tut, tut," admonished King Ticket. "What a violent disposition the little puppet has." "I am afraid," said Queen Curtain, "that you really have no choice. You must stay here until we are ready for you to depart. After all, you came of your own accord, you know." Twiffle was silent. He was at a loss to know what to say or do. Twink and Tom felt suddenly alone and a little bit frightened, now that the Shaggy Man was gone. Even in the brief time they had known him, they had grown very fond of him, and had come to rely upon him. Seeing this, Twiffle returned to stand by the children and said: "Never you mind. We'll find the Shaggy Man all right. Perhaps it would be wise to remain here tonight as these people wish us to do. That will give us a chance to find out what they have done with Shaggy." This was said in a whisper, to which Tom answered: "Well, I could enjoy a good meal. We haven't had anything to eat but fruit since yesterday." Actually Tom was as worried about Shaggy as Twink, but, being a boy, he didn't want to let the girl know. Twink was indignant. "I'm surprised at you, Tom! The idea of talking about food when we've just lost our best friend! But I suppose Twiffle is right." "Good!" said King Ticket. "Then that is settled and you will be with us for dinner and the theater!" "Gosh!" exclaimed Tom, "do you suppose he heard everything we said?" "I don't have any doubt of it," replied Twiffle calmly. "Therefore we might as well converse in our ordinary voices." "You were indeed fortunate to have arrived just in time for the opening night of our new play," said Queen Curtain pleasantly. "I am sure you will enjoy it immensely. Tell me, have you children seen many plays?" "Oh, yes," replied Tom, "we have seen lots of our school plays, and last Christmas Twink and I had important parts in the Christmas pageant." "Well, then, you will certainly enjoy yourselves tonight," said the Queen, smiling happily at the children. "We will work only about an hour more. Then everything will be in readiness. That will give us plenty of time to tidy up, dress in our finest, and enjoy the dinner and the play to the utmost." The hour passed swiftly. The children apparently were engrossed in the work going on, on the stage, but actually their thoughts were busy puzzling over the mystery of what had happened to the Shaggy Man. "Lady Cue will show you to your rooms, children," announced Queen Curtain, rising from her throne. The Lords and Ladies were putting away their tools and sewing. A tall, thin, worried-looking woman, sewing basket on her arm, stepped down a short flight of stairs from the stage and smiled rather absent-mindedly at Twink and Tom. "You will come with me, I think?" she said hesitantly. Twink and Tom looked at Twiffle, who nodded, and all three followed the tall lady who was proceeding uncertainly up the aisle. Outside the theater, Lady Cue led Twiffle and the children up a broad staircase leading to the second floor of the castle. Here there was a long corridor, with smaller corridors leading off of it, each with many doors opening into various suites and rooms. Lady Cue had advanced only a short distance down the main corridor when she stopped uncertainly before a door and turned to her charges. "This is a door," she said, "but do you think it is the right one?" "I'm sure we wouldn't know, Madame," replied Twiffle. "After all, you live in this castle and should know all about it." Lady Cue sighed. "Of course, of course. I forgot for the moment that you are the strangers. Well, we shall have to do our best to find the right door." "Haven't you been in any of these rooms?" asked Tom curiously. "In them?" asked Lady Cue vaguely. "Oh, I must have since I live here, you know. Once inside the rooms I am sure I would be able to find my way with no trouble. But outside them it is most confusing. How is one to know what is inside when one is outside?" Lady Cue looked at them beseechingly and wandered down the corridor to another door exactly like the one she had just left. She stared at this one for several minutes, then boldly opened it a crack and peered in. "Oh, Goodness! I beg your pardon," she said to someone in the room, hastily closing the door. "Well," she said, "that's one that isn't the one. The First Knight of the Realm is in there pressing his breeches for tonight's performance." "The First Knight of the Realm presses his own clothes?" asked Twink. "He does, he does," asserted Lady Cue wagging her head. "I did it for him once, but somehow the creases ran zig-zag and he looked like he was corrugated. It is my opinion, though," Lady Cue added in a confidential whisper, "that he wears a poor quality garment." Lady Cue turned and started off down one of the smaller corridors. Twink, Tom, and Twiffle followed her, at which Lady Cue stopped and looked at them with a puzzled expression. "Did you wish to see me?" she asked. "You were taking us to our rooms," reminded Twiffle. "I was?" exclaimed Lady Cue greatly surprised. "Well, then you just show me where your rooms are and I will be glad to take you to them." "But you were supposed to show us to our rooms," said Tom. "I was? Oh, dear, this is confusing," said Lady Cue. "Have you no idea where our rooms are, Madame?" asked Twiffle. "I wouldn't say that," replied Lady Cue. "I did have a very good idea, but it seems I mislaid it somewhere. There are so very many rooms you know—and any one of them might be yours, if only there weren't so many other people in the castle. That's what we must be careful about, you know. You will want your very own rooms, won't you? I don't think you would want to share rooms with someone else, would you, maybe?" All the time they were wandering from corridor to corridor while Lady Cue became more and more unsure of her bearings. At last she stopped and said hopelessly, "You'll have to pardon me, my friends, but I am afraid I am lost. I haven't the faintest idea where we are." "What shall we do?" asked Twink. "I have it," said Lady Cue. "I will pin my handkerchief to this door," and she indicated a door opposite them, "so that we can't get more lost. Whenever we pass this door with the handkerchief on it, we will know exactly where we are." "And where will that be?" asked Twiffle. "Why, where the handkerchief is, of course," replied Lady Cue. With that Lady Cue reached in her pocket and pulled out a large linen napkin that bore traces of food on it. "Oh, dear," she exclaimed. "I seem to have picked this up at luncheon. How thoughtless of me." She advanced to the door, and removing a large safety pin from the front of her dress, carefully pinned the napkin to the door. "Whose rooms are these?" asked Twiffle. "I haven't the faintest idea," replied Lady Cue. "Why not open the door and find out?" pursued Twiffle. "Why not?" echoed Lady Cue as she turned the knob and pushed open the door. They all stepped inside. There was no sign of any occupants of the room. The closets were all empty and there were no personal articles about. The suite consisted of a large, beautifully furnished living room, with doors leading to two comfortable bedrooms with baths. "Why can't we use these rooms?" asked Twiffle. "What a wonderful idea," exclaimed Lady Cue. "Then we won't have to hunt any longer for your rooms, because these will be your rooms. But are you sure it's all right? It sounds much too simple." And with a worried look the poor lady started to take down the napkin from the door. "No, no," said Twiffle. "Leave the napkin there. Then you will be able to find us again. Remember now—just look for the napkin on the door and you'll know which is our room." Lady Cue nodded and extracted a large, old-fashioned watch from the depths of her sewing basket. She squinted at it, and said, "You have just one-half hour to prepare for dinner. I will call for you and take you to the—the—oh yes, the dining room. That," she confided, "is where they are serving dinner tonight." With that the befuddled Lady Cue closed the door, only to find she was still in the room. So, she opened it, stepped outside, and then carefully closed it again. Twink, Tom, and Twiffle, in spite of their troubles, burst out laughing. If anything went right with the play tonight they were sure it wouldn't be due to Lady Cue's efforts. While Twiffle waited patiently, the children bathed, scrubbed their faces and hands, and reappeared much refreshed and quite ready for the dinner that had been promised them. Twink was fascinated with the long rows of books on one side of the luxuriously furnished room, but she hardly had time to do more than glance at a few pictures, when there came a gentle rapping on their door. Twiffle opened it. There stood Lady Cue. Her dress was on backwards and she had forgotten to do her hair. Solemnly she counted Twink, Tom, and Twiffle—one, two, three. "Is that right?" she asked them anxiously. "Were there just three of you? So often when I count I have something left over. This time it seems to come out even. That's very odd." "Three would be odd," muttered Twiffle. Fortunately Lady Cue didn't hear him, or she might have become even more confused. She was already on her way through the corridors, so the children and the clown followed her. After several false starts, and wandering through a number of corridors, they finally found their way to the great staircase. |
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