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      “Cruelty,” remarked the monarch, puffing out wreathes of smoke and watching them float into the air, “is a thing I can’t abide. So, as slaves must work hard, and the Queen of Ev and her children were delicate and tender, I transformed them all into articles of ornament and bric-a-brac and scattered them around the various rooms of my palace. Instead of being obliged to labor, they merely decorate my apartments, and I really think I have treated them with great kindness.”

      “But what a dreadful fate is theirs!” exclaimed Ozma, earnestly. “And the Kingdom of Ev is in great need of its royal family to govern it. If you will liberate them, and restore them to their proper forms, I will give you ten ornaments to replace each one you lose.”

      The Nome King looked grave.

      “Suppose I refuse?” he asked.

      “Then,” said Ozma, firmly, “I am here with my friends and my army to conquer your kingdom and oblige you to obey my wishes.”

      The Nome King laughed until he choked; and he choked until he coughed; and he coughed until his face turned from grayish-brown to bright red. And then he wiped his eyes with a rock-colored handkerchief and grew grave again.

      “You are as brave as you are pretty, my dear,” he said to Ozma. “But you have little idea of the extent of the task you have undertaken. Come with me for a moment.”

      He arose and took Ozma’s hand, leading her to a little door at one side of the room. This he opened and they stepped out upon a balcony, from whence they obtained a wonderful view of the Underground World.

      A vast cave extended for miles and miles under the mountain, and in every direction were furnaces and forges glowing brightly and Nomes hammering upon precious metals or polishing gleaming jewels. All around the walls of the cave were thousands of doors of silver and gold, built into the solid rock, and these extended in rows far away into the distance, as far as Ozma’s eyes could follow them.

      While the little maid from Oz gazed wonderingly upon this scene the Nome King uttered a shrill whistle, and at once all the silver and gold doors flew open and solid ranks of Nome soldiers marched out from every one. So great were their numbers that they quickly filled the immense underground cavern and forced the busy workmen to abandon their tasks.

      Although this tremendous army consisted of rock-colored Nomes, all squat and fat, they were clothed in glittering armor of polished steel, inlaid with beautiful gems. Upon his brow each wore a brilliant electric light, and they bore sharp spears and swords and battleaxes of solid bronze. It was evident they were perfectly trained, for they stood in straight rows, rank after rank, with their weapons held erect and true, as if awaiting but the word of command to level them upon their foes.

      “This,” said the Nome King, “is but a small part of my army. No ruler upon Earth has ever dared to fight me, and no ruler ever will, for I am too powerful to oppose.”

      He whistled again, and at once the martial array filed through the silver and gold doorways and disappeared, after which the workmen again resumed their labors at the furnaces.

      Then, sad and discouraged, Ozma of Oz turned to her friends, and the Nome King calmly reseated himself on his rock throne.

      “It would be foolish for us to fight,” the girl said to the Tin Woodman. “For our brave Twenty-Seven would be quickly destroyed. I’m sure I do not know how to act in this emergency.”

      “Ask the King where his kitchen is,” suggested the Tiger. “I’m hungry as a bear.”

      “I might pounce upon the King and tear him in pieces,” remarked the Cowardly Lion.

      “Try it,” said the monarch, lighting his pipe with another hot coal which he took from his pocket.

      The Lion crouched low and tried to spring upon the Nome King; but he hopped only a little way into the air and came down again in the same place, not being able to approach the throne by even an inch.

      “It seems to me,” said the Scarecrow, thoughtfully, “that our best plan is to wheedle his Majesty into giving up his slaves, since he is too great a magician to oppose.”

      “This is the most sensible thing any of you have suggested,” declared the Nome King. “It is folly to threaten me, but I’m so kind-hearted that I cannot stand coaxing or wheedling. If you really wish to accomplish anything by your journey, my dear Ozma, you must coax me.”

      “Very well,” said Ozma, more cheerfully. “Let us be friends, and talk this over in a friendly manner.”

      “To be sure,” agreed the King, his eyes twinkling merrily.

      “I am very anxious,” she continued, “to liberate the Queen of Ev and her children who are now ornaments and bric-a-brac in your Majesty’s palace, and to restore them to their people. Tell me, sir, how this may be accomplished.”

      The king remained thoughtful for a moment, after which he asked:

      “Are you willing to take a few chances and risks yourself, in order to set free the people of Ev?”

      “Yes, indeed!” answered Ozma, eagerly.

      “Then,” said the Nome King, “I will make you this offer: You shall go alone and unattended into my palace and examine carefully all that the rooms contain. Then you shall have permission to touch eleven different objects, pronouncing at the time the word ‘Ev,’ and if any one of them, or more than one, proves to be the transformation of the Queen of Ev or any of her ten children, then they will instantly be restored to their true forms and may leave my palace and my kingdom in your company, without any objection whatever. It is possible for you, in this way, to free the entire eleven; but if you do not guess all the objects correctly, and some of the slaves remain transformed, then each one of your friends and followers may, in turn, enter the palace and have the same privileges I grant you.”

      “Oh, thank you! thank you for this kind offer!” said Ozma, eagerly.

      “I make but one condition,” added the Nome King, his eyes twinkling.

      “What is it?” she enquired.

      “If none of the eleven objects you touch proves to be the transformation of any of the royal family of Ev, then, instead of freeing them, you will yourself become enchanted, and transformed into an article of bric-a-brac or an ornament. This is only fair and just, and is the risk you declared you were willing to take.”

      12. The Eleven Guesses

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      Hearing this condition imposed by the Nome King, Ozma became silent and thoughtful, and all her friends looked at her uneasily.

      “Don’t you do it!” exclaimed Dorothy. “If you guess wrong, you will be enslaved yourself.”

      “But I shall have eleven guesses,” answered Ozma. “Surely I ought to guess one object in eleven correctly; and, if I do, I shall rescue one of the royal family and be safe myself. Then the rest of you may attempt it, and soon we shall free all those who are enslaved.”

      “What if we fail?” enquired the Scarecrow. “I’d look nice as a piece of bric-a-brac, wouldn’t I?”

      “We must not fail!” cried Ozma, courageously. “Having come all this distance to free these poor people, it would be weak and cowardly in us to abandon the adventure. Therefore I will accept the Nome King’s offer, and go at once into the royal palace.”

      “Come along, then, my dear,” said the King, climbing down from his throne with some difficulty, because he was so fat; “I’ll show you the way.”

      He approached a wall of the cave and waved his hand. Instantly an opening appeared, through which Ozma, after a smiling farewell to her friends, boldly passed.

      She found herself in a splendid

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