"Well, what is it?" puffed Mustafa eagerly. "Be quiet!" he called to the Mudgers who were again closing in on Notta and Bob.
"That person," cried Tazzywaller, with a wave toward Notta, "is undoubtedly a wizard. Instead of snatching off his head, which will be of no use to us, even as an ornament, why not compel him to serve us? He is a wizard, or he would not be in Mudge. Well then, let him go to the Emerald City and bring back the Cowardly Lion!"
Mustafa stared at his former chamberlain in amazed admiration, then flinging both arms about his neck, hugged him almost to suffocation. Next instant he had clapped his hands and issued a dozen orders to as many little servitors. At the first the shouting Mudgers retired backward from the tent, at the second Panapee also retired, leaving Bob and Notta alone with Tazzy and their Majesties. Outside, the marching and countermarching of the blue guard could be heard as they surrounded the royal tent.
"The rules aren't working at all well, Bob," breathed Notta anxiously. Bob said nothing. He just clutched the clown's hand a little tighter and stared at Mustafa in open-eyed wonder.
"Now then," chuckled the monarch of Mudge, "now then, my handsome wizard, what do you call yourself?"
"Notta," began the clown, resolved to be polite as long as possible, "Notta Bit More."
"Notta!" coughed Mustafa, opening his eyes wide. "That doesn't sound like a name. It sounds like—"
"A joke," put in the clown, with one of his broad smiles, "a little joke on me. You see it is meant to be funny."
"Well, it doesn't amuse me at all." Mustafa stared solemnly into the clown's face. "Why are you so white? And why is his hair,"—Mustafa jerked his thumb at Bob—"so red?"
"For the same reason that your Majesty's whiskers are blue," replied Notta promptly. Mustafa did not quite like this answer.