'These falling-out suits have not been tested, but I believe they will work and prove safe and practical in case of accident.—WIZ.'"
"I suppose the Wizard meant them for his Ozoplane passengers to use, instead of parachutes," decided Dorothy, fingering one rather doubtfully. "Well, I should hate to be the first to try one!"
"Oh, I don't know," Jellia, her head on one side, pensively considered the blue pajamas. "I think they're real cute. I think—HARK! What was that?" Dropping the pajamas, she clutched Dorothy as the unmistakable tread of a heavy boot came stamping up the stair.
"Bustabo!" shivered Dorothy. "Oh—he's not going to wait till morning! He's coming for us now! Oh, Jellia, JELLIA—what shall we DO?" Dorothy's voice, rising almost to a shriek, roused the Cowardly Lion. Cocking one ear and arriving at exactly the same conclusion as the little girl, the lion sprang over to waken the Soldier with Green Whiskers. The Scarecrow already was hurrying from window to window, trying the bars with his flimsy, cotton fingers. At the window nearest the fireplace he gave a joyful little grunt, for some former prisoner had managed to saw through three of the iron bars. As the Scarecrow pushed, they moved creakily outward.
"Quick! Come help me!" urged the Scarecrow, dragging the terrified and only half-awake Soldier to the window. "On with those parachute suits, girls! We'll jump before we're tossed out!" Dorothy and Jellia exchanged desperate glances and then—as the steps on the stair thumped louder and nearer—each grabbed a falling-out suit and zipped herself tidily inside.
"Here!" panted Jellia, down on her hands and knees beside the Cowardly Lion, "you can put your front feet in anyway—and anything will be better than nothing, when you fall!" To her relief and surprise, she discovered that the pajamas would stretch! Even the lion could wear them without too much discomfort. Except for a cramp in his tail which was coiled tightly on his back, the lion fitted into his pajamas nicely.
As the Soldier with Green Whiskers was trembling too violently to help himself or anyone else, Jellia jerked and pushed him into one of the falling-out suits. Then, picking up the Wizard's kit-bag and looking solemnly back at her anxious comrades, Jellia climbed to the window sill. "I'll go first," she announced, closing her eyes so she would not see the rocks below, and her mouth, to keep her teeth from chattering.
"No! Let me! I insist on going first," cried the Scarecrow, springing nimbly up beside Jellia. "Falling does not hurt me at all."