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since I was shipwrecked with Hank the Mule!"
"Nor I, since I fell into the whirlpool with Captain
Bill," said Trot. "That was before I came to Oz."
By this time, Jenny was feeling much better. She
still wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. But
most of all she wanted her breakfast.
It was Jellia who said, "Cake's sake, Jenny. Get
into my scalawagon. The LUNCH bar is serving
breakfast at this hour."
Jenny climbed into Jellia's scalawagon. When she
pressed the LUNCH button, five delicious breakfasts
appeared. There was enough for everyone, and Jenny
handed out glasses of purple milk and bananas to her
friends.
While they were eating, Dorothy said, "Ozma and
the Wizard are still puzzled about that rubber ghost.
They can't discover what it is because it is traveling
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in disguise."
"We have Ozma's permission to help you find the
ghost, and then to deal with it properly," said Trot.
She held up a pair of scissors. "The Wizard gave us
each a pair. We can cut-up as much as we like."
"That ghost won't have a chance," declared Betsy.
Jenny soon finished her breakfast. Food and friends
had raised her spirits sky-high.
"I know we can catch that rubbery fellow!" she
declared.
"Certainly! Come on, girls," cried Dorothy gaily.
They started their scalawagons.
"Where to?" asked Dorothy.
"I don't know," said Jenny.
"Aren't those tracks of some kind?" said Jellia, star-
mg at the ground, where there were ruts left by the
trees' roots.
"Strange tracks, I call them. They cross and dou-
ble-cross," said Betsy.
"But all tracks go somewhere," said Trot. "Let's
follow and see where these take us."
At first the tracks only confused the girls. They
steered their scalawagons into the twisting ruts, but
found themselves traveling in circles.
"I've never been in such a rut," said Jenny, as they
returned to their starting place for the tenth time.
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"I think we should stop steering and let our scala-
wagons lead us," said Dorothy.
Leaning forward, Dorothy patted her scalawagon
between its eyes.
"Help us find the rubber ghost," she coaxed. The
eyes of the scalawagon blinked twice, and a wise look
came into them. Then, without a sound, the little
car was off, its wheels turning in the tracks left by
the old tree.
"Follow it!" called Jenny.
The scalawagons enjoyed running without being
steered. Their wide-open eyes were shining. In a
little while they proved their good sense by arriving
at the river that the forest had drunk dry. There was
no more water there, and there was no forest. But
there was something that made Jenny cry out:
"Why, there's my scalawagon!"
The scalawagon was standing just where the rub-
ber ghost had abandoned it. Its eyelids had been
drooping, but seeing its companions, it began to rear
and jump.
"Thanks for the lift, Jelila," cried Jenny, getting
out of Jellia's scalawagon and running to her own.
Climbing into the seat, she rubbed the control but-
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tons.
"That nasty ghost didn't damage you," she said
fondly. "Now, if only I could find my handbag!"
"You'll find that when you find that thieving
ghost," said Betsy. "After him, girls!"
"Which way?" inquired Trot.
Nobody knew how to answer this question. Then
Jenny said, "Suppose we let my scalawagon lead? It
must remember which way the ghost went."
The others agreed.
"Now, Scally," said Jenny to her scalawagon,
"which way did that rubber monster go?"
The good sense that Tik-Tok had knocked into its
head now served the scalawagon well. For without
hesitation, it started off in the direction taken by the
moving forest.
CHAPTER 21
The Ghost Rides High
ALL night long the trees had moved, dragging
their roots and sighing softly. They did not find
a plowed field until daybreak. It was just the kind of
field they wanted, but when they tried to settle there,
a farmer appeared and shouted to them to move on.
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Moving forests are common in Gillikan land.
"I no sooner clear my land of trees, when another
horde comes," shouted the farmer. He shook his fist
at the forest "Get along, you drifters!"
The trees had no course but to go on. As daylight
grew a brighter purple, another danger appeareid.
The woodchoppers came with their axes.
The old tree leader hissed, "Keep a sharp lookout
on all sides."
"There's one now!" warned a tree in the rear. The
trees hurried as if a strong wind were blowing them.
The woodchopper stopped and shook his head.
There was no use trying to chop down a tree that
wouldn't stand still.
Meanwhile the rubber ghost crouched within the
crow's nest. It was getting highly impatient. Never
before had it been imprisoned for a whole night.
"It's that toe," grumbled the ghost, looking at the
toe that Jenny's scissors had snipped. "That's where
it comes rushing out - that sweet-smelling stuff that
made me a giant."
The ghost was far from being a giant now. So
much of the peculiar-smelling stuff had escaped that
it was quite shriveled. As it shrank, it assumed a
strange, flat appearance.
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"It's true that I've shrunk, but maybe I can stretch
again Then I can frighten this forest," the ghost
thought wickedly.
Making a mighty effort, for it was nearly ex-
hausted now, the rubber monster stood upright in
the nest. Then it began to breathe-and breathe-
and breathe. It breathed in, but never out. In a little
while it had breathed so much air that it was swollen
up again. It was a terrible effort to keep the air in,
but the ghost was terribly determined. With seven
more breaths it had swelled to a ferocious size.
"Now I'll scare those stupid trees into obeying me,"
it thought.
Leaning far over the crow's nest, it allowed the air
to escape in a mighty blast, while it gave out a roar
like thunder.
The forest stopped. The young trees began to
tremble.
"Thunder!"
"Lightning!"
"We'll be struck!" they cried.
The upper limbs of the trees swayed so hard that
the ghost was almost tumbled out of the crow's nest.
The ghost was again breathing in as hard as it
could. When it was bloated to the size of a great
bladder, it made another sound like thunder.
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The trees were too frightened to move. This was
what the cunning ghost had hoped for.
"OBEY ME!" it thundered."
Yes, yes," sighed the trees.
"March straight on to the next crossroad," ordered
the ghost. "There you will see a cross-eyed house.
Turn right and keep going until the purple highway
runs into a green one. Follow the green one to the
Emerald City. Then I'll give you further orders!"
All this was delivered in a menacing tone. The trees
trembled and obeyed. Though they passed plowed fields
that looked inviting, they dared not stop. Sometimes
a farmer came out of a purple house and waited to
make sure that the forest did not settle on his land. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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