"Then bring a live coal from the furnace!" commanded the King.

"The tobacco is lighted, and your Majesty is already smoking your
pipe," answered the Steward.

"Why, so I am!" said the King, who had forgotten this fact; "but you
are very rude to remind me of it."

"I am a lowborn, miserable villain," declared the Chief Steward, humbly.

The Nome King could think of nothing to say next, so he puffed away at
his pipe and paced up and down the room. Finally, he remembered how
angry he was, and cried out:

"What do you mean, Kaliko, by being so contented when your monarch
is unhappy?"

"What makes you unhappy?" asked the Steward.

"I've lost my Magic Belt. A little girl named Dorothy, who was here
with Ozma of Oz, stole my Belt and carried it away with her," said the
King, grinding his teeth with rage.

"She captured it in a fair fight," Kaliko ventured to say.

"But I want it! I must have it! Half my power is gone with that
Belt!" roared the King.

"You will have to go to the Land of Oz to recover it, and your Majesty