  While Nifflepok had been interviewing Five, Handy and Nox had been having a troublesome conference of their own. Each plan they devised for finding the little King and escaping from the Silver King's Mountain proved impractical. To summon the hammer elf to release them from the prison pit would probably rouse the underground guards and minions of the wizard, and give Wutz himself an opportunity to steal the hammer. To tap the hammer lightly and ask the advice of Himself had next seemed a good idea, but as Nox quickly pointed out, that, too, was dangerous. "In a wizard's den like this, anything can happen," groaned the Ox, looking around with a gloomy eye. "How do we know we are not being watched at this very moment? If you so much as show that hammer, somebody may pounce in here and snatch it away, which will leave us with nothing to protect ourselves with in a last emergency—except that blue flower, my horns and your hands." Handy did not like the sound of "last emergency," but even Handy realized they would not escape from the mountain without some sort of battle. To the free and sun-loving mountain girl every minute underground was sheer torture. She longed for a breath of the pure upper air, and the unreal light and pale faces of Wutz's underground citizens and workers filled her with pity and loathing. "Of course, no matter how long they leave us here, your horn of plenty will keep us from starving, but if we don't soon find some way out, I believe I'll explode!" she choked in a desperate voice. "Let's look at the message in that silver ball again," suggested Nox unexpectedly. "Are you sure you read it all, m'lass? There might have been directions on the other side." "I don't think so," said Handy, shaking her head. Then, because action of any sort was a relief, she deftly twisted off Nox's left horn and tilted the silver balls into one of her always handy palms. The first ball when she opened it contained nothing further than the silver key. In the center of the second lay the same folded paper, but this time when Handy unfolded the paper there was a new message inside. "Wait!" cautioned the little slip of paper in small blue letters. "Do nothing until the wizard appears." "Oh," breathed the Royal Ox, touching the paper gently with his nose. "Someone is helping us." "Then I'd better keep this silver ball in my pocket," decided the Goat Girl, "where I can easily get it. In a tight corner I might not have a chance to unscrew your horn. Dear—ear, how puzzling it all grows! So we're to hear from the wizard again. Whist! What was that?" As Handy, with her wooden hand, slipped the first ball back into the horn, with her leather hand screwed the horn back on Nox's head and with one of her best white hands stuffed the second ball and message into her pocket, they heard agitated footsteps pattering along the outside corridor. After a tense moment, however, they died away, and exchanging a relieved glance, Nox and Handy settled down to wait for the wizard. The footsteps, as you have already guessed, belonged to Nifflepok. Peering in at them through an invisible window, the King's messenger had been just in time to see Handy shaking the silver balls from the golden horn. Without waiting to see what use they would make of this curious magic, Nifflepok rushed back to inform his master. "They are wizards!" he panted, bursting unceremoniously into the Silver King's den. "The magic is in the ox's horn. With my own eyes I saw the seven-armed maiden shaking silver balls from his horn." "What do I care about silver balls?" snarled Wutz, who was in a terrible temper. "If I had them here I'd bounce you over the head with them." The den was full of sulphurous smoke, but the earthenware jug still stood unchanged on the table before him. "The magic in the Emerald City is still better than mine," hissed the Silver Monarch, his voice quivering with anger and disappointment. "I've tried every single formula in my book of incantations, every straight and crooked pass in the magician's manual, every powder and potion on my shelves, and this ugly jug is still a jug and nothing but a jug! What are we going to do?" he yelled furiously. "Think of something, you noddle-headed pig! I must have the help of this little Gnome King, but how'm I going to get him out of the jug?" "Perhaps, with a little more time," faltered Nifflepok, twisting his high hat nervously in his hands. "Time! TIME!" exploded the wizard. "When did time ever break an enchantment?" Snatching up a pair of silver pliers he flung them wrathfully at his assistant. Nifflepok, fortunately for his head, caught the dangerous missile in his hat, and darting behind a tall cabinet, looked pleadingly out at his unreasonable Master. "Wait! Wait!" he begged earnestly as Wutz with a menacing frown took up his silver bubble pipe. "I HAVE thought of something. Make these Munchkins break the Gnome King's enchantment. They have passed all the hazards of our mountain unharmed. Undoubtedly the girl is a sorceress and the Ox a powerful magician in disguise. Let them do this trifling service for your Majesty in return for the useless captive we are holding for Number Nine." "Hm—mmmm!" Deliberately the Silver Monarch put down his pipe. "That's not a bad idea, Niffle, not a bad idea at all." Picking up the jug, Wutz brushed rudely by his trembling little Minister and hurried out of his workshop. A few minutes later, he stood bowing and smiling before the two travelers in the prisoner's pit. But warned by the message in the silver ball, his entrance through the invisible door neither frightened nor impressed Handy Mandy or the Royal Ox. "So here you are at last," exclaimed the Goat Girl, looking the Silver Monarch sternly in the eye. "And about time, too. How dare you imprison us in this miserable pit for no reason at all?" "Oh, yes, there is a reason," stated Wutz a little surprised at Handy's defiance. "You broke into my mountain without invitation or permission and as you are nothing but a pair of trespassers, you certainly deserve imprisonment and even destruction." "Nonsense," snorted the Royal Ox, lurching forward heavily. "We came here seeking a lost boy whom you are unlawfully holding captive. As soon as you release the little King of Keretaria, we will take him and leave this mountain!" "And the sooner you tell us where he is, the better!" added Handy, snapping her thirty-five fingers under the Silver King's nose. "Ah, you think so?" sneered Wutz. "Well, nothing is ever given for nothing in this mountain, but I may give you a chance to earn the boy's release. Here in my hand is a jug, an ordinary enough looking jug. With the magic you have in your possession, you must transform this jug to its proper shape. If you succeed, you and the Ox and the Boy King of Keretaria may leave my mountain unharmed. If you fail, ha ha!" The heartless wizard threw back his head and laughed uproariously. "If you fail, the walls of this pit will contract until you are—well, shall we say—obliterated? To keep your part of the bargain and perform this slight service I will give you one half hour. Here is the jug, and in case you fail, GOOD-BYE!" "Good Gillikins!" whistled Nox, as the wizard strode through the invisible door and left them alone. "What does that fool think we are, wizards—magicians—necromancers?" Groaning and snorting, he began to gallop round and round the hot little pit. "Look out! Look out! You'll break the jug," warned Handy, snatching it up in her arms. "And for goat's sake stop that galloping! I'm dizzy enough as it is." "But you heard what he said?" lowed the Ox, coming to a trembling stop beside her. "What are we to do? We know nothing of magic or magic transformations!" In their distress and excitement, they both forgot there might be a message to help them in the silver ball, and Handy, taking the jug in one of her white hands, surveyed it with horror and curiosity. "It's so old and ugly now," said the Goat Girl slowly, "I'll bet it was something old and ugly to begin with. Didn't Nifflepok mention something about a jug that was a rug? Maybe it's a rug, though more likely a rogue. Say, I wonder if I broke the jug whether that would not break the enchantment?" "Oh, no, no, no! Don't do that!" begged Nox, rolling his eyes in terror. "If you break the jug, the wizard will be furious, and how do you know what will break the spell? Here, let me look at it." Passing the jug rapidly from one hand to another, Handy started to place it on the floor under Nox's nose with her seventh and last hand, when a sudden and unexpected scream from the interior, made her drop it with a loud crash to the silver stones. "Ouch! Oh, stop! How dare you bang me around in this hateful manner?" Up from the flying fragments of earthenware at Handy's feet sprang a fierce little gnome with a long ragged beard, shaking his fists and howling like a child. "Oh, my—y! I've actually done it!" quavered the Goat Girl, falling over against Nox. "Look! Look! Didn't I tell you it would be old and ugly?" The gnome, at Handy's words suddenly stopped howling. "Where am I? Where am I? WHO am I?" he mumbled in a frightened voice. "Well, I don't know who you are, but I'm afraid you're in a pretty bad place," said Handy, straightening up to have a better look at her handiwork. "You're in the underground caverns of the King of the Silver Mountain, if you must know." "Caverns!" beamed the gnome, his face breaking into a wide smile. "What's the matter with caverns? I LOVE caverns, why I used to live in one myself. And who did you say I was?" "We don't know who you are," explained Nox, in a cautious voice. "A moment ago and before Handy took you in hand, you were nothing but a jug." "A jug?" pondered the gnome pulling his beard thoughtfully. "You mean to say I was a JUG?" "Maybe 'Was-a-jug's' your name," volunteered the Goat Girl, now quite interested in her transformation. "No, not 'Was-a-jug' but something like a jug. Let me think—Bug, hug, chug, mug, pug, rug-RUG? That's it, THAT'S my name, Ruggedo!" shrieked the little gnome joyfully, "and now I know who I am!" "Well, who are you?" inquired the Ox, stretching his royal nose down toward the whirling gnome. "I, why, I am the most important King on the other side of the desert!" shouted Ruggedo exultantly. "I am the one and only Metal Monarch and Ruler of all the Gnomes! My caves and caverns under the mountains of Ev sparkle with jewels and precious stones, mined by my faithful workers, and my grand army of gnomes outnumbers any army in OZ." Proudly the ragged little King thumped himself upon the chest. "Oh, my! Oh, me! Oh, mercy—ercy! If you're as powerful as all that, maybe you'll help us!" cried the Goat Girl, clasping her hands eagerly. "Help you? Why should I help you?" The little Gnome stared scornfully at the two occupants of the cave. "Because she broke your jug and enchantment, you ungrateful little wretch!" snorted Nox, lowering his horns. "And you don't look like a king to me, you just look like a plain ordinary wicked little ragamuffin, a RUGAMUFFIN!" he bellowed angrily. |
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