Billina laughed; or at least she made the peculiar cackle that served her for a laugh.
"No wonder I couldn't find the Tin Woodman," she said; "and no wonder the magic belt didn't make him appear, or the King couldn't find him, either!"
"What do you mean?" questioned Dorothy.
"Why, the Prince had him in his pocket," cried Billina, cackling again.
"I did not!" protested little Evring. "I only took the whistle."
"Well, then, watch me," returned the hen, and reaching out a claw she touched the whistle and said "Ev."
Swish!
"Good afternoon," said the Tin Woodman, taking off his funnel cap and bowing to Dorothy and the Prince. "I think I must have been asleep for the first time since I was made of tin, for I do not remember our leaving the Nome King."
"You have been enchanted," answered the girl, throwing an arm around her old friend and hugging him tight in her joy. "But it's all right, now."
"I want my whistle!" said the little Prince, beginning to cry.