This was not going very well, and the little Queen was already feeling nauseated by the stench. She would not be able to take much time explaining her situation before she became physically ill. This proposed a problem, as she had never known illness to exist in Oz. Still, it was a matter that would require a bit of research. "I bust see your President," she sniffled uneasily. "Can you take be to himb?" "Of course," said the boy simply, taking a handful of the stinkweeds and eating it. "I can take you to his mansion, anyway. I don't know if he'll want to talk. He is preparing to fight the Sniffers for control of the fertile lands, and is very busy with that right now." "That's just the thing," said Ozma. "I need to discuss that batter with himb." "Well," said the boy, "you are the Queen. Follow me." Ozma followed the lad as quickly as she could under the circumstances. The smell only grew more pungent with each step. It was overpowering. But she knew that she had to help the two rivals to come to an arrangement quickly, as the Forest Monster could be doing nearly anything at this point, and she was losing valuable time. She wished that she had sent the forest animals on to speak to the Saber-Toothed Light Bulbs without her, but she knew in her heart that such an act might well have endangered her new friends. If she were not with the animals, the Light Bulbs might well have attacked them. No, this was all she could do. She only hoped that she had not chosen the wrong skirmish to settle first. When she came to the mansion of President Stinky McFoot, she saw that it was expansive. It was a good sixteen acres wide, and had more rooms than any one man could possibly make use of. She hurriedly knocked on the heavy oak door. Her knock was answered by a Stinkfoot who was dressed as a butler. "Yes?" he said to her. "I amb Queen Ozba of Oz," she explained. "I amb here to speak to the President." "Queen Ozba of Oz?" replied the butler. "But you are just a child. How can you be the queen of anything? Except possibly a toy box." "I amb Queen Ozba!" she said. "I amb serious! I bean it!" "Okay," chuckled the Stinkfoot. "I'll play along for a moment. If you are the Queen of Oz, what is it you wish to speak to President McFoot about?" "He is planning a war with the Sniffer Nation," said the Queen. "I want to try to find a better way for your people to solve your differences." "That is very touching," laughed the butler. "But if you were really the Queen of Oz, you would surely know that the matter is already settled. The Sniffer-snuffers will have to let us have the land we need to survive, and that is all there is to it. Now, go home little girl. We have a lot to attend to, and there really isn't any time for your games." "But I amb really the Queen!" objected she. "Yes," said the butler, "and I am Charles Dickens. My wife is the Queen of England. Now do run along." He shut the door before Ozma had a chance to say anything more.