"This is somewhere, isn't it?" asked the
Patchwork Girl, laughing at the bewildered
looks of the others.
"The path is locked, the way is blocked,
Yet here we've innocently flocked;
And now we're here it's rather queer
There's no front door that can be knocked."
"Please don't, Scraps," said Ojo. "You make me nervous."
"Well," said Dorothy, "I'm glad of a little
rest, for that's a drea'ful steep path."
As she spoke she leaned against the edge of
the big rock that stood in their way. To her
surprise it slowly swung backward and showed
behind it a dark hole that looked like the mouth
of a tunnel.
"Why, here's where the path goes to!" she
exclaimed.
"So it is," answered the Scarecrow. "But the
question is, do we want to go where the path
does?"
"It's underground; right inside the mountain,"
said Ojo, peering into the dark hole. "Perhaps
there's a well there; and, if there is, it's sure
to be a dark one."
"Why, that's true enough!" cried Dorothy
with eagerness. "Let's go in, Scarecrow; 'cause,
if others have gone, we're pretty safe to go, too."
Toto looked in and barked, but he did not
venture to enter until the Scarecrow had bravely
gone first.
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