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"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."

"Aren't you the Prince of Pumperdink?" she asked, nodding toward Pompa. The Prince bowed in his most princely fashion and assured her that he was and, after a few hasty explanations, Glinda promised to bring Ozma down in her chariot.

"Tell her," trumpeted Kabumpo impressively, as the chariot rose in the air, "tell her that a young Prince waits below!"

While Pompa was still looking after Glinda's