GREAT was the hue and cry raised over the disappearance of the Weather Prophet, and dire the dismay of the general public, that had daily flocked to the pretty little glass house to learn the very latest advice from the weather bureau. They greatly feared there could now be no further predictions concerning sun and storm, for there never had been but one Weather Prophet within the memory of anyone, even the oldest of all. Even the Wizard knew nothing concerning the material of which his wife’s magic skirts were made. A weather prophet she had been, although badly in need of repair, upon her arrival in Toyland, and her like had never been seen, would never be seen again.

Queerer even than her disappearance seemed to Sally the vanishing of her glass house. Perhaps, like the Walking House, it had found feet and eloped, carrying off its owner, whether willing or not. Even the loquacious glass sign was gone, which proved conclusively to the logical mind of the Wizard, or at least he so expressed himself, that the house had run away with the lady, and that at that very moment she was no doubt placidly following her profession of prophesying in some far distant region.

Bedelia, as usual, had her own opinion concerning the matter, and went about looking mysterious. Sally, who greatly feared that the little bear was planning mischief, was much relieved when she finally spoke her mind.

“I believe that bald-headed old terror knows where his wife is,” she declared one morning while the two were wandering through the palace greenhouses. “She had two pet Flussies and they are gone, too. Now, even if she was carried off by her glass house against her will, she could have sent them back with a message. Anyway, it isn’t likely that she went of her own accord, for she is so well known all over Toyland that wherever she went, the Wizard would be sure to find it out and bring her back. Besides that, she had no reason for running off. Everybody liked her and made a fuss over her.”

“Well, then, whatever do you suppose has become of her?” inquired Sally breathlessly. The child had had her own misgivings, remembering the pretty doll’s dislike for her husband’s pets. “You don’t suppose the gargoyles could have eaten her?” she added hurriedly.

“No, and I don’t believe the Polly flew away with her,” retorted Bedelia scornfully. “I believe she is hidden somewhere within a very short distance from here. The Wizard has some motive for getting her out of the way. You know he said she had refused to go sleighing with the rest of us. He probably said that just for effect.”

“But what could he have done with the house?” demanded Sally.

“Oh, that could easily have been taken to pieces and moved away. He had those imps of gargoyles to help him,” replied the little bear. Then after a moment’s thought, she added reflectively, “As you know, the King and Queen have gone away on business for a couple of days. Suppose we try to unravel this mystery all by ourselves. I am sure the Sign Post will help us. He can run very fast, besides being so tall he can get at almost anything. Of course we won’t mention what we are doing to anyone. It may be that I am on quite the wrong scent. But there’s no harm in trying.”

And Sally having given her delighted consent, Bedelia trotted off to find the Sign Post, singing at the top of her voice

This ancient classic somehow, it seemed to Sally, applied to the situation in hand, only it was Sally and the Sign Post and Bedelia instead of the owl and the eel and the warming-pan.

A bright idea suddenly struck the little girl, and she could scarcely wait until Bedelia returned with the Sign Post to announce it to them.

“Bedelia, dear,” she exclaimed, “if we are going to be real detectives, we shouldn’t use our own names, because real detectives never do. Let us call ourselves the Owl and the Eel and the Warming-Pan. It will be so lovely and mysterious!”

Bedelia clapped her paws with delight at this proposition, while the Sign Post beamed approval from his lofty height.

“With capitals, of course,” continued Sally. “And now which of us shall be which?”

After some discussion, it was decided that Sally should be the Owl (with a capital), Bedelia the Eel, while the long and lean Sign Post should be the Warming-Pan.

This mighty problem having been settled, they proceeded to hold a council of war and finally decided to set forth at once upon their mission. They concluded to go on foot and, if it were not possible to return each night to the palace, to remain wherever they could find lodging. The Sign Post, while he had no opinion of his own at all concerning the disappearance of the Weather Prophet, was glad to fall in with the plans of anyone who had, and Sally perceived with delight that he was going to be a most valuable addition to their detective force.

By noon their simple preparations were completed and they set forth merrily enough, having concluded to go over the nearby ground first, then if they discovered nothing to proceed to regions more remote. Bedelia’s idea that the subject of their search was hidden close by seemed sensible enough. She might be in the Wizard’s tower for that matter. The disappearance of the house was what bothered all of them. What use could anyone have for a vanishing glass house? It was really most mysterious.

They walked on, discussing the subject that was so troubling them when suddenly the sound of heavy paws padding along behind them made them turn quickly. And they beheld hurrying along after them a big, white figure that Sally recognized at once as the large Polar Bear rug that lay at the side of the Queen’s bed. He had come to life most beautifully and only flopped in a very small degree, considering his boneless condition. He came up panting a little and wagging his huge head amiably as is the fashion with Polar Bears.

“I was so afraid you would get away!” he said in a panting voice, as he linked arms with Sally and quickly fell into step with her. Then he added, “Aren’t you surprised to see me? I never did such a thing before. Ever since I can remember, I have lain beside the Queen’s bed. But this morning I felt that I had reached the limit. Do let me go along with you! I am thirsting for adventure.”

“Do you think you could walk so far?” said Sally, eyeing his somewhat wabbly legs rather doubtfully. “Besides, what will the Queen say when she returns?”

“I shall not be there to hear,” replied the Polar Bear solemnly. “And as for walking, I can go along with the best of you. Besides, you will find me very useful, for when you are tired, I will spread myself out and you can rest comfortably on my long, soft hair.” He smiled so amiably as he said this that the others at once consented to take him along, and also informed him of the object of their journey.

This confidence ended, they proceeded more briskly than before, and soon the palace was left behind and they found themselves in the open country. At the edge of the town Sally saw a most peculiar looking tree whose queer leaves, some square, some oblong, no two of them alike, were white instead of green, and rustled with a sound like sweetest music as the wind whispered softly through them.

“Oh, what a queer tree!” she exclaimed, hurrying toward it.

“That, my dear, is a letter tree,” said the Sign Post.

“A letter tree?” replied the child blankly. “Then you have no post-office in Toyland?”

“I do not know what a post-office may be,” replied the other. “But here all our letters grow on trees. The loving thoughts of our friends to us, why should they not bloom and bear fruit, the fruit of the heart and brain?”

Much impressed by the eloquence of her companion, Sally was silent, but Bedelia remarked that she had heard of a brain-storm, but that brain-fruit was one too many for her.

The Sign Post, without condescending to notice the little bear’s impertinence, lifted Sally in his long arms so that she might more closely examine the wonderful tree, which she did with the greatest curiosity. But although she sought all over it, there was no fruit bearing her name. She had not expected anything, yet she somehow felt disappointed. However, Bedelia was in the highest spirits, having been lifted up by the Polar Bear, with whom she had struck up the greatest friendship, and she could scarcely be restrained from appropriating a number of letters, albeit they were all addressed to other people.

Just as the Polar Bear was resolutely setting her down on her feet, she made a sudden grab and descended to the ground with a letter tightly clasped in her mischievous paw.

“Oh, Bedelia, how could you!” cried Sally in distress.

“Well, it’s for you, stupid!” retorted Bedelia saucily, as she thrust the envelope under Sally’s nose. Sure enough it was, and Sally had somehow overlooked it. It was addressed in a manner not to be mistaken:

To Sally,
Care of Her Royal Highness,
The Palace,
Toyland.

“How curious!” cried Sally as she eagerly tore it open.

It read thus:

“Didn’t I tell you so?” exclaimed Bedelia after a moment of stupefied silence. And then she added briskly, “There’s no use standing here staring like a lot of gawks. The thing to do is to hurry back home and get the Weather Prophet out of prison.”

To this all eagerly assented, and Sally fancied that she heard the Sign Post murmur faintly, “Five miles to the palace.” Whether or not this was true, they had come a goodly distance and were all more or less tired, so that rest and refreshment were really necessary before starting back on their homeward journey. Therefore they seated themselves under the beautiful letter tree and ate the dainty food that had been put up for them by the obliging cook before they left the palace. There were chicken sandwiches, deviled eggs, thin slices of cold ham and tongue, and a beautiful salad of lettuce and celery in a bowl. And for dessert was a fine strawberry tart covered with whipped cream and a number of most tempting little cakes. There was also a jug of lemonade.

The Sign Post, who had obligingly carried all these dainties dangling from one of his long arms, helped to spread the feast and then sat down contentedly to his own meal of shavings, which, as he now explained, constituted his regular fare. The only variety consisted in the fact that they were obtained from different woods, each of which possessed its own peculiar flavor.

The meal at last being ended, Sally and Bedelia cleared the remains of it away, and as all felt thoroughly rested, they concluded to start back at once to the palace. As all roads in Toyland lead to the palace, they simply proceeded on their way instead of retracing their steps. Sally and the Sign Post led the way, while Bedelia trotted contentedly along with the Polar Bear.

Presently through a break in the trees they caught a gleam of something that glistened like ice in the cold sunshine.

“The lake!” cried Sally. “If we only had our skates and plenty of time, what fun we might have.”

To which the Polar Bear responded rather severely, “Whoever heard of a rescue party stopping to go skating?”

And as this was very true, Sally remained silent, although feeling rather hurt that the Polar Bear should have taken her up so suddenly.

They were now directly on the edge of the lake, and as she gazed down upon its glistening glass surface that gleamed with a hundred rainbow tints, Sally suddenly uttered a loud exclamation, “The Weather Prophet’s glass house!” she cried excitedly. “The Wizard used it to make this lake. He carried her off and shut her up because he knew she would object to having it pulled to pieces and made into a lake!”

And indeed the truth of her assertion proved itself at once to the minds of all present, for the lake had been laid in sections and one could discern plainly enough where the top and sides of the house were joined so as to make one flat surface. Even the pretty striped awnings of red and white had been utilized in the construction of a tent, under which the skaters had rested when weary with their exertions.

Indignation at the meanness of the crafty old Wizard and sympathy for his pretty little wife was expressed by all, and they at once hastened forward, more resolved than ever to rescue her from the clutches of the Wizard, or to perish in the attempt.

They made very good time, the Sign Post carrying Sally and Bedelia turn and turn about when either felt tired. But it was near the hour for twilight before the towers and gables of the royal palace came into view. Sally suddenly remembered that in the absence of the Wizard there would probably be no twilight, a fact that she had not before thought of. They would have to do their work in broad daylight. However, they hurried along and were soon in the grounds of the Wizards palace.

High up in the tip-top window of the lofty tower they saw fluttering a tiny white object that was evidently the handkerchief of the poor little prisoner, for having seen them she was waving it frantically.

All was silent and deserted. The Wizard had locked up everything securely and had given a holiday to his servants, fearing that they might notice the effort of his prisoner to make herself heard, which effort she was pretty certain to make. Consequently the little party had nothing to fear in the way of encountering guards. How to effect an entrance was, however, quite another matter, for everything was bolted, barred and padlocked. The problem was finally solved by the Sign Post, who stood on his very tiptoes and triumphantly boosted Bedelia in at the third story window, which had been left open as being too high up to offer a means of egress for the prisoner.