CHAPTER 6
The Magic Airmobile
"Yes, that's it," said Conjo, nodding his round head so violently that his three chins rippled like the steps of an escalator. "You have asked me to do you a favor—a very great favor—so it is only just that I should claim a reward. That's fair, isn't it?"
Conjo was regarding the Shaggy Man with eyes from which was gone the somewhat foolish innocence.
The Shaggy Man considered uneasily. He was beginning to remember Ozma's warning that Conjo was not to be trusted entirely. "What kind of a reward could I give you?" the Shaggy Man asked.
Conjo's finger shot out, pointing toward the Shaggy Man. "That," he said. "That in your pocket will be my reward!"
Involuntarily the Shaggy Man's hand went to his pocket in which rested the Magic Compass Ozma had given him.
"You must be joking," said the Shaggy Man incredulously. "The Magic Compass belongs to Ozma. And if I did give it to you how would I return to the Land of Oz? No, what you ask is impossible."
Conjo's voice was wheedling. "Surely you don't think Ozma expected me to repair the Love Magnet for nothing, do you? I can assure you that Ozma will regard the trading of the Magic Compass for the repair of the Love Magnet an excellent bargain. Actually the Magic Compass is, by Ozma's standards, a minor bit of magic."