"Why, it's perfectly simple!" the Wizard assured her brightly. "All you have to do is touch the right buttons at the right time!"
"But—"
The Scarecrow, who had been about to ask another question, whirled round on one heel, and flopped on his back in the aisle. The Cowardly Lion skidded rapidly past, to wedge under the little dining table while Dorothy and the Wizard clung to the steering board to keep from falling. For—a terrific roar like the tearing of a gigantic sheet had made the Ozpril tremble like a leaf. There came a sudden flash of silver smoke, and the gradual dying away of all sound. Then—a complete and ominous silence.
"WHAT? WHAT!!! Why, it's gone!" shouted the Wizard, racing over to the door and staring amazedly at the empty space occupied a moment before by the Oztober. Then he glanced up into the starlit expanse of sky.
"Gone?" Creeping on hands and knees, the Scarecrow peered out to see for himself. "Why, what right have they to go off like that?" he demanded, pulling himself up by the door jam. "April comes before October and goes before October, too. Fall before spring—why, that's ridiculous! The Ozpril should have led off!"
"Oh, what will become of them?" cried Dorothy in distress, clasping her hands anxiously. "I'm sure it was a dreadful mistake."
"Mistake!" moaned the Wizard, pushing back his high hat. "Worse than that, Dorothy! Why, everything is ruined! Here they've gone off before I even had a chance to show the plane to Ozma. They have no directions, no supplies; they'll crash, smash or wreck themselves. I intended to teach Nick Chopper to navigate the plane before we started!"
"But can't we stop them? Can't we go after them?" exclaimed Dorothy, clutching the Wizard's coat tails.
"Go after them?—Yes! that's the idea, go after them! Of course!" panted the Wizard, falling over the Cowardly Lion who was making a stream-lion for the door.