"And I only remembered them because you sat on my back," confessed the pig, twitching his nose thoughtfully. "It was my thought-reading gift that did the trick, and I am more than ever convinced that we are under some mischievous spell or enchantment. What I don't understand, my dear, is how you yourself escaped or chanced to remember things as they were. You know, before I came out here, it seemed perfectly right and natural for that roly poly pudding of an Emperor to be sitting at the head of the table. I knew no more about Ozma, or Glinda, or my former master Jinnicky than a new-born baby. By the way, Jinnicky's gone too, isn't he?" "Yes," Dorothy shook her head sorrowfully, "and without him or the Wizard to help we'll have a hard time, I guess. What shall we do first, Piggins?" "How about having a try at some of the Wizard's magic?" proposed the pink pig, daringly, "then we might look in Ozma's magic picture and ask it to show us where all of our missing friends are now." "Now, why didn't I think of that myself?" cried Dorothy, and springing up she started off on a run. "Wait! Wait!" grunted Pigasus, pattering breathlessly after her. "Remember, we must be very careful, my dear. No questions about Ozma, no remarks that will arouse the anger of this scalawag Emperor, or we'll both be clapped in a dungeon. We must pretend that we have forgotten, too, and get away quietly later tonight." This seemed so sensible a plan, Dorothy readily agreed to it, and without attracting any attention at all they re-entered the palace and hurried immediately to Ozma's small sitting room. But if they expected the magic picture to solve their problem they were soon doomed to disappointment. The picture was gone from its accustomed place and the safe where Ozma kept her magic treasures and other valuables was wide open and quite empty. A quick search of the Wizard's laboratory proved equally discouraging. The Wizard's famous black bag was nowhere in sight, the little hanging closet where he stored his transformation powders and wishing pills was bare as the cupboard of old Mother Hubbard. "Whoever planned this thought of everything," wheezed Pigasus, sitting heavily back on his haunches. "There is nothing here for us, Dorothy. If I were you, I'd get a few things together and we'll leave right away before anyone misses you." From the cheers, shouts, and hilarious singing coming from the banquet hall it seemed probable that the celebration would go on for hours. No one in that gay and foolish company even thought of or missed the little girl and the pink pig stealing so quietly through the dim halls of the palace. "Ozma's palace," reflected Dorothy, looking resentfully over her shoulder; but now it seemed strange, alien and completely unfriendly. With a little shiver Dorothy drew her cloak more closely about her and stepped resolutely out into the night. Pigasus pattered on ahead, snorting a bit from sheer nervousness.