Prince Forge John looked so confused at this speech that Grampa stepped forward and hastily explained all that had happened since King Fumbo had lost his head, ending up with the wizard’s garden, the discovery of Urtha and their fortunate use of Gorba’s medicine.
“H-m!” mused Prince Forge John, rubbing his iron chin. “So you’re seeking the head of this lad’s father and the lad himself seeks a fortune and a Princess? Well, I have not seen the King’s head, but the Prince may stay here with us, marry one of our Fire Maidens and make a fortune in the fire works. There’s many a fortune been snatched from the fire. How would you like that, my boy?”
“Yes, do stay and marry me,” cried one of the little flame maidens, running impulsively up to the Prince.
“You are so odd and you look so interesting!” Tatters looked terribly embarrassed, for he was fearful that the maiden would scorch his nose. “I—I must find my father’s head first,” stuttered the Prince, backing away uneasily, “and if your Majesty could tell us of a way back to Oz—” Tatters bowed again and looked appealingly at Grampa.
“Well, you might go up in smoke,” suggested Prince Forge John slowly. “I think, myself, that this wizard’s medicine will wear off presently and then you’ll all burn up.”
“Oh,” groaned the old soldier, snatching out his handkerchief, “why do you think such terrible thoughts?”
“Would it hurt?” breathed Urtha, who hated to see anyone unhappy.
“Is there no fire escape?” choked Tatters, with bulging eyes.
Prince Forge John shook his head. “I’d like to help you,” he murmured gravely, “but you are so strangely made I don’t see how I can. Better just stay on here. Burning’s not so bad and I think you’d burn a long time.” Several of the Fire Islanders nodded as the Prince said this, but Grampa and Tatters could find no consolation in such a prospect.
“And marching North seemed so easy!” wailed poor Tatters, leaning heavily on his red umbrella.