The green maiden hastened away, but presently returned and said: 

“The kitten will not come.  She threatened to scratch my eyes out if I touched her.”

“Where is she?” asked Dorothy.

“Under the bed in your own room,” was the reply.

So Dorothy ran to her room and found the kitten under the bed.

“Come here, Eureka!” she said.

“I won’t,” answered the kitten, in a surly voice.

“Oh, Eureka!  Why are you so bad?”

The kitten did not reply.

“If you don’t come to me, right away,” continued Dorothy, getting provoked, “I’ll take my Magic Belt and wish you in the Country of the Gurgles.”

“Why do you want me?” asked Eureka, disturbed by this threat.

“You must go to Princess Ozma.  She wants to talk to you.”

“All right,” returned the kitten, creeping out.  “I’m not afraid of Ozma—­or anyone else.”

Dorothy carried her in her arms back to where the others sat in grieved and thoughtful silence.

“Tell me, Eureka,” said the Princess, gently:  “did you eat my pretty piglet?”

“I won’t answer such a foolish question,” asserted Eureka, with a snarl.

“Oh, yes you will, dear,” Dorothy declared.  “The piglet is gone, and you ran out of the room when Jellia opened the door.  So, if you are innocent, Eureka, you must tell the Princess how you came to be in her room, and what has become of the piglet.”

“Who accuses me?” asked the kitten, defiantly.

“No one,” answered Ozma.  “Your actions alone accuse you.  The fact is that I left my little pet in my dressing-room lying asleep upon the table; and you must have stolen in without my knowing it.  When next the door was opened you ran out and hid yourself—­and the piglet was gone.”

“That’s none of my business,” growled the kitten.

“Don’t be impudent, Eureka,” admonished Dorothy.

“It is you who are impudent,” said Eureka, “for accusing me of such a crime when you can’t prove it except by guessing.”

Ozma was now greatly incensed by the kitten’s conduct.  She summoned her Captain-General, and when the long, lean officer appeared she said: 

“Carry this cat away to prison, and keep her in safe confinement until she is tried by law for the crime of murder.”

So the Captain-General took Eureka from the arms of the now weeping Dorothy and in spite of the kitten’s snarls and scratches carried it away to prison.

“What shall we do now?” asked the Scarecrow, with a sigh, for such a crime had cast a gloom over all the company.

“I will summon the Court to meet in the Throne Room at three o’clock,” replied Ozma.  “I myself will be the judge, and the kitten shall have a fair trial.”

“What will happen if she is guilty?” asked Dorothy.

“She must die,” answered the Princess.

“Nine times?” enquired the Scarecrow.