"Let's all sit down in a circle and think," proposed the Scarecrow, taking Ozma's hand, for he could see the little fairy was ready to cry with disappointment. "The goose feather said the King was in the castle, so he must be here," he insisted cheerfully. "Let Dorothy tell her story and we'll tell ours and then perhaps we can find out what's wrong with our magic." "Now you're talking sense," approved Scraps, plumping down beside the straw man. "Have Dorothy explain this old goose, this button-button-who's-got-the-button boy and the fellow with the fluttering ears." "I guess that _would_ be best," sighed Dorothy. So in less than a wink that whole strange company, with Humpy in the center, dropped down in a circle upon the floor. Kabumpo, holding Mombi fast in his trunk, stood just behind Dorothy, putting in a word now and then or giving Mombi a shake when she objected to any part of the story. Ozma and her friends could scarcely repress their astonishment and surprise as Dorothy recounted her wonderful adventures with the dummy and told of Snip's exciting journey with the goose and the old witch. Indeed, as the story proceeded, they began to regard Snip and Pajuka with growing admiration and respect, for certainly these two had played an unforgettable part in the history of Oz. When Dorothy told how Snip had raised the castle with Mombi's baking powder, the company burst into such loud cheers and cries of approval that the little button boy tried to hide behind the tailor. Tora, himself, came in for a goodly share of the interest too, and he smiled pleasantly as Dorothy explained his singular ears and described his escape from the Blanks. When Dorothy had finished, Ozma quickly related all that had happened in the Emerald City and in Morrow. She told of the deserted castle and the mysterious messages, and the Scarecrow gravely passed around the golden quill. "I seem to remember this," puffed Pajuka when it had come to him. "Ah, I know! It is the magic quill the King gave me on my last birthday in the castle. It always warned one or the other when either was in danger and I had it in my pocket when Mombi turned me to a goose." "And I pulled it out when I fell down the well!" cried Snip excitedly. "And it returned to the spot where the old castle had stood," put in the Wizard, leaning forward sagely. "Well, that explains the feather, but who will explain the King?" demanded the Scarecrow, looking at the dummy with his head on one side. "I'm about tired of being explained," mumbled Humpy sulkily. "If you don't pretty soon decide something, I'll go back to America. I've fallen and I've risen and now I want to sit still." "Perhaps," suggested the tired tailor timidly, for he felt shy in the presence of so many celebrities, "perhaps Humpy is not the lost King at all! The feather said the King was in the palace, but it did not say the dummy was King."