“Hurrah!” cried the Scarecrow, throwing up his hat. “Peggy, put the kettle on and we’ll all have some tea! But where’d you get all this magic stuff?” he asked immediately after. “Out of a box of Mixed Magic,” puffed Kabumpo, his little eyes twinkling with anticipation as he watched Peg. First she filled the tiny kettle at a near-by brook; then she lit the little lamp and dropped some of the Trick Tea into the kettle. Bright pink clouds arose from the kettle, as soon as Peg had set it over the flame, and while they waited for it to boil Pompa put another question. “Has Pumperdink disappeared?” asked the Prince, in a trembling voice. “N-o,” spelled the Question Box slowly, and Kabumpo settled back with a great sigh of relief. “I told you everything would be all right if you followed my advice,” said the Elegant Elephant. “Stand up now and try to forget your black eye. You are the Prince of Pumperdink and I am the Elegant Elephant of Oz.” “But why all the ceremony?” asked the Scarecrow, looking mystified. Kabumpo only chuckled to himself and, as the Trick Tea was now ready, Peg took the little kettle and began to tip-toe toward Ruggedo. “I hope it’s red hot,” grumbled Wag resentfully. “He’s getting off easy, the old scrabble-scratch! Getting off! Say, look here!” He gestured violently to Kabumpo. “If Ruggedo returns to the Emerald City with the palace on his head, where does Pompa come in?” He pointed a trembling paw at the Prince, his nose twitching so fast it made the Scarecrow blink. “Stop!” trumpeted the Elegant Elephant, plunging after Peg Amy. He reached her just in time. “I’m no better than Pumper,” grunted Kabumpo, mopping his brow with the tail of his robe. “Suppose, after all our hardships, I had allowed Ozma and the palace to get away without giving Pompa a chance to ask her—” “But we ought to save her as quick as we can,” ventured Peg. “Couldn’t we hurry back to the Emerald City again?” “It might be too late,” wheezed Kabumpo. “Let—me—see!” [Illustration: (unlabelled)] “Hello!” cried the Scarecrow. “Here comes Glinda.” As he spoke the swan chariot of the good Sorceress floated down beside the little party. “Bother!” groaned Kabumpo, as Glinda stepped out. “Some strangers,” called the Scarecrow, gleefully running toward Glinda, “some strangers with a box of Mixed Magic trying to help.” “If we could have a few words with Ozma,” put in the Elegant Elephant hastily, “everything would be all right.” Glinda looked at Kabumpo gravely. “It’s unlawful to practice magic. You must know that,” said the Sorceress sternly. “But it’s not our magic, your Highness,” explained Peg Amy, setting down the little kettle. “We found it, and we’re only trying to help Ozma.” “Well, in that case,” Glinda could not help smiling at the Wooden Doll’s quaint appearance, “I shall be glad to assist you, as all of my magic has proved useless.”