People began to come out of the glass doors to look at the new arrivals, and pretty soon quite a crowd had assembled.  There were men and women, but no children at all, and the folks were all beautifully formed and attractively dressed and had wonderfully handsome faces.  There was not an ugly person in all the throng, yet Dorothy was not especially pleased by the appearance of these people because their features had no more expression than the faces of dolls.  They did not smile nor did they frown, or show either fear or surprise or curiosity or friendliness.  They simply started at the strangers, paying most attention to Jim and Eureka, for they had never before seen either a horse or a cat and the children bore an outward resemblance to themselves.

Pretty soon a man joined the group who wore a glistening star in the dark hair just over his forehead.  He seemed to be a person of authority, for the others pressed back to give him room.  After turning his composed eyes first upon the animals and then upon the children he said to Zeb, who was a little taller than Dorothy: 

“Tell me, intruder, was it you who caused the Rain of Stones?”

For a moment the boy did not know what he meant by this question.  Then, remembering the stones that had fallen with them and passed them long before they had reached this place, he answered: 

“No, sir; we didn’t cause anything.  It was the earthquake.”

The man with the star stood for a time quietly thinking over this speech.  Then he asked: 

“What is an earthquake?”

“I don’t know,” said Zeb, who was still confused.  But Dorothy, seeing his perplexity, answered: 

“It’s a shaking of the earth.  In this quake a big crack opened and we fell through—­horse and buggy, and all—­and the stones got loose and came down with us.”

The man with the star regarded her with his calm, expressionless eyes.

“The Rain of Stones has done much damage to our city,” he said; “and we shall hold you responsible for it unless you can prove your innocence.”

“How can we do that?” asked the girl.

“That I am not prepared to say.  It is your affair, not mine.  You must go to the House of the Sorcerer, who will soon discover the truth.”

“Where is the House of the Sorcerer?” the girl enquired.

“I will lead you to it.  Come!”

He turned and walked down the street, and after a moment’s hesitation Dorothy caught Eureka in her arms and climbed into the buggy.  The boy took his seat beside her and said:  “Gid-dap Jim.”

As the horse ambled along, drawing the buggy, the people of the glass city made way for them and formed a procession in their rear.  Slowly they moved down one street and up another, turning first this way and then that, until they came to an open square in the center of which was a big glass palace having a central dome and four tall spires on each corner.