At this moment the Soldier with the Green Whiskers returned, and the Scarecrow asked:
“By the way, who has conquered me?”
“A regiment of girls, gathered from the four corners of the Land of Oz,” replied the Soldier, still pale with fear.
“But where was my Standing Army at the time?” inquired his Majesty, looking at the Soldier, gravely.
“Your Standing Army was running,” answered the fellow, honestly; “for no man could face the terrible weapons of the invaders.”
“Well,” said the Scarecrow, after a moment’s thought, “I don’t mind much the loss of my throne, for it’s a tiresome job to rule over the Emerald City. And this crown is so heavy that it makes my head ache. But I hope the Conquerors have no intention of injuring me, just because I happen to be the King.”
“I heard them, say” remarked Tip, with some hesitation, “that they intend to make a rag carpet of your outside and stuff their sofa-cushions with your inside.”
“Then I am really in danger,” declared his Majesty, positively, “and it will be wise for me to consider a means to escape.”
