"But he's the image of Pastoria!" insisted Pajuka. "Don't you suppose I know my own sovereign? Ozma my dear, is this dummy not like your father?"
Ozma nodded: "But it wouldn't do any harm to look around," she added thoughtfully.
"Come on," cried the Scarecrow waving his hat, "we'll hunt from cellar to garret!"
"Keep a trunk on that witch!" called Scraps to the Elegant Elephant, as they all jumped up and started to follow the Scarecrow from the room.
"But wait!" exclaimed the tired tailor, catching hold of the straw man's arm. "How do you know you are not the King yourself?"
"Me the King!" ejaculated the Scarecrow falling back against a pillar.
"Well, Mombi could easily have changed you to a Scarecrow," mused Tora, but Dorothy hastily shook her head, for the Scarecrow's past was well known and though he had been proved an Emperor of Silver Island, she felt he could not be the lost King of Oz.