"We'll let her rest," Dorothy said. "Then we'll see what she has to say."
The girl lay back and closed her eyes. Presently, she drifted into sleep. She began to dream of her adventures in Oz: of meeting her friends for the first time, and of meeting the Wicked Witch of the West in her terrible anger after Dorothy's house fell on the Wicked Witch of the East.
She dreamed of returning to Oz for the second time and meeting the Wicked Witch of the Deep South. Then she dreamed that all three witches were attacking her at once. The Wicked Witch of the West screamed at her: "So, you thought you'd get away from me, eh? Well, I've got you now, my little pretty!" She screamed again with that horrible cackle that all witches seem to have. As her scream tapered off, the Wicked Witch of the West's ugly, one-eyed face loomed up right next to Dorothy's face.
She glared at Dorothy and screamed, "You thought you'd liquidated me, didn't you, my pretty? Well, I'm right here! And two of my sisters are here, too. And we have a nice little surprise for you." At that, the Wicked Witch of the Deep South cackled loudly behind Dorothy. As Dorothy spun around, the witch threw a rope around her and tied her arms tightly to her side. They all grabbed the little girl and pushed her roughly into a chair. Then they tied her wrists to the arms of the chair.
Directly above the chair was a big black pot, bubbling and steaming. It was suspended by two chains on pulleys. A rope was tied to an iron ring at the base of the pot and looped through another iron ring on a big wooden beam. The end of the rope lay coiled on the floor.
The Wicked Witch of the West picked up the rope and began to tug on it gently. The black pot tilted slightly. Seeing the alarm on Dorothy's face, the witches cackled in sadistic delight.
"Now, we'll see how you like this, Deary," screamed the Wicked Witch of the West with heinous laughter. "We'll teach you to interfere with us." With that, she gave a big tug on the rope.
Dorothy screamed as the thick black steaming liquid hit her face. But, instead of being scalding hot, it was icy cold. She awoke with a start to find that the Scarecrow was splashing cold water in her face. "What happened, Dorothy?" said the Tin Woodman. "Are you all right? You were crying out in your sleep."
"Oh," said Dorothy in relief as she recognized everyone. "Thank goodness it was only a bad dream. The witches were about to scald me to death."
"We couldn't wake you," said the Lion. "That's why we sprinkled the water on her face."