ughed;
and he coughed until his face turned from grayish-brown to bright red.
And then he wiped his eyes with a rock-colored handkerchief and grew
grave again.

"You are as brave as you are pretty, my dear," he said to Ozma. "But you
have little idea of the extent of the task you have undertaken. Come
with me for a moment."

He arose and took Ozma's hand, leading her to a little door at one side
of the room. This he opened and they stepped out upon a balcony, from
whence they obtained a wonderful view of the Underground World.

A vast cave extended for miles and miles under the mountain, and in
every direction were furnaces and forges glowing brightly and Nomes
hammering upon precious metals or polishing gleaming jewels. All around
the walls of the cave were thousands of doors of silver and gold, built
into the solid rock, and these extended in rows far away into the
distance, as far as Ozma's eyes could follow them.

While the little maid from Oz gazed wonderingly upon this scene the Nome
King uttered a shrill whistle, and at once all the silver and gold doors
flew open and solid ranks of Nome soldiers marched out from every one.
So great were their numbers that they quickly filled the immense
underground cavern and forced the busy workmen to abandon their tasks.

Although this tremendous army consisted of rock-colored Nomes, all squat
and fat, they were clothed in glittering armor of polished steel, inlaid
with beautiful gems. Upon his brow each wore a brilliant electric light,
and they bore sharp spears and swords and battle-axes of solid bronze.
It was evident they were perfectly trained, for they stood in straight
rows, rank after rank, with their weapons held erect and true, as if
awaiting but the word of command to level them upon their foes.

"This," said the Nome King, "is but a small part of my army. No ruler
upon Earth has ever dared to fight me, and no ruler ever will, for I am
too powerful to oppose."

He whistled again, and at once the martial array filed through the
silver and gold doorways and disappeared, after which the workmen again
resumed their labors at the furnaces.

Then, sad and discouraged, Ozma of Oz turned to her friends, and the
Nome King calmly reseated himself on his rock throne.

[Illustration: "THIS IS BUT A SMALL PART OF MY ARMY"]

"It would be foolish for us to fight," the girl said to the Tin Woodman.
"For our brave Twenty-Seven would be quickly destroyed. I'm sure I do
no