Now the Scarecrow, delighted with the success of the celebration so far, had suggested a series of athletic contests and obstacle races for next day and Skamperoo had heartily agreed to his plans. His first thought on waking was the race to be run by the straw man and himself, the Scarecrow on the wooden saw horse, he on his splendid white charger.
"I'll wear the white leather breeches and shirt," puffed Skamperoo, bounding out of bed like a school boy. He had taken a shower and donned his showy riding clothes before he missed his magic emeralds. Then, all at once, as he stood before the mirror to comb his hair, he gave a loud squall of anguish. "Chalk! Chalk!" roared the distracted Emperor, racing over to the balcony and leaning so far out over the railing he nearly fell on his crown. "They're gone! They're gone! My emeralds! My necklaces! My necklaces! My emeralds!"
Now Chalk, who had risen early to nibble the clover while it was still fresh with morning dew, looked up in alarm, then as his Master's voice grew louder and louder and his gestures more spectacular and desperate, the white horse rose up on his hind legs and shook his head in violent warning and displeasure.
"Hush!" he directed in a low voice. "I'll be right up." Making his way quickly but cautiously so as not to arouse the curiosity of any of the palace servants, already at work in the lower hallways, Chalk hurried up to the agitated Emperor.
"They're g-g—gone!" blubbered Skamperoo, sitting on the edge of the bed and crying like a baby. "G—g-g-gone! Now everything is ruined and I'll have nothing left at all!"
"Well, you still have me," murmured Chalk, resting his head affectionately on Skamperoo's shoulder. "Brace up, Kingaling, and for oats sake be quiet! No one here knows about the necklaces and until the rascal who has stolen them learns how to use them we are as safe as soap. That rascal, of course, is Matiah. Somehow he has managed to cross the Deadly Desert. Yes," Chalk shook his mane wrathfully, "I am convinced that Matiah has the necklaces, but what good are they to him when we alone know the secret that makes them work? He'll have to come to us in the end and when he does! Hah!" Chalk expelled the air from his nose in a terrific snort. "Just let me take care of him."
"But shouldn't we give the alarm, have a search made for him, and try to recover the emeralds?"
"Let him alone," counseled the wishing horse firmly. "The thing for you to do is to sit tight on the throne of Oz. Remember you are still the Emperor!"
"But how can I be, without those emeralds?" Skamperoo dabbed at his eyes with the satin bed sheet.