By this time Peter had thrown everything in reach. Feeling desperately in his pocket he sent a top, a baseball and a box of fish hooks whizzing through the air. Then, as his fingers closed on the sorcerer’s stone, he flung that, too, at the invisible gnome. Instantly there was a complete and utter silence. The patch still fluttered wildly before their eyes and, as the stunned company eyed it in horrified suspense, the hand of Kuma descended and closed roughly on the invisible shoulder of Ruggedo. “Hold him! Hold him!” panted the Wizard, rushing forward with his black bag. “I remember now the magic to make him visible.” The little Wizard of Oz seldom uses chants and, instead of the verse Wumbo had employed, sprinkled a black and white powder over the Gnome King. Even years afterward Peter could remember the distorted and furious face of Ruggedo, as the spell of the magic cloak was broken and he stood revealed to his enemies. Struggling to shake off the clutch of Kuma’s hand, he was desperately trying to speak to the magic belt. But, though his mouth moved, not a sound issued from his lips. “Struck dumb!” cried the Scarecrow, unclasping his arms from the Knight’s neck, where he had flung them in his extreme agitation. “But how! And why?” “I have it! I have it!” exclaimed the Wizard, pouncing upon the emerald that Peter, as a last resort, had hurled at the Gnome King. “This is the famous Silence Stone, used by the ancient Emperors of Oz to keep their wives quiet in times of war. How it came into the possession of Soob I cannot imagine, but see, here written in magic on the emerald itself is the whole story: ‘Whom this stone touches on the head shall remain silent for seven years’.” “Yon honest lad hath saved the realm!” boomed Sir Hokus, slapping Peter on the back and beaming joyfully upon the still trembling company. “I wish I could have read that before,” puffed Peter. “Well, it’s lucky you threw it when you did,” answered the Wizard. “One more word and we’d have been at the bottom of the sea. As it is--” Calmly the wizard unclasped the belt from the scowling Gnome King and, snatching the box of mixed magic and the wishing pills, handed them back to Ozma--“As it is, Ruggedo is perfectly harmless.” “Three cheers for Peter!” cried the Scarecrow, waving his hat over his head. “His aim and arm have saved the day.” “That’s because he’s such a good pitcher,” mumbled the little bear, and the cheers were given with such a will all the dishes on the table skipped. Ozwold, who had buried his head in a flower pot at the first of the Gnome King’s threats, now reared it cautiously and, with mud still sticking to his bill, approached the Queen. “If Your Highness will excuse me,” quavered the oztrich hoarsely, “I must be going. This excitement is very bad for my child.”