"Oh, what a shame!" burst out Kerry.
"Bubbled off? What do you mean by that?" The Goat Girl reached out with all her arms to pull the Silver King's little Minister closer.
"I mean, bubbled off," repeated Nifflepok, struggling to release himself from Handy's clutches. "He blew a quicksilver bubble and he and Ruggedo sailed away in it, if that's any plainer."
"Oh, then we had better go right after them," snorted the Ox in an anxious voice. "Show us out of this mountain, you little pudding, or I'll toss you higher than a kite."
"Oh, do let's do something!" begged Kerry, who, being young, was quite daring and absolutely foolhardy. "We aren't going to let those dreadful Kings conquer the country, are we, and not lift a hand?"
"Well, I'm sure I'd lift all seven if it would do any good," mused Handy Mandy in a depressed voice. "But how can we stop them? Wutz and Rug have probably stolen all the magic in Ozma's palace by this time, the thieving rascals!"
"But surely YOU have some magic?" ventured Nifflepok, who had finally jerked himself free. "Or you could never have disenchanted that gnome or found the wizard's Lower and rescued this boy; and if you have—" he warned, backing rapidly away, "if you have, you'd better use it QUICK. When Wutz finishes conquering Oz, he's sure to remember you and turn you to rocks and rubble. He's going to turn everyone to rocks and rubble!" wailed Nifflepok, dashing out of the workshop.
"Great Gazoo, what shall we do? I don't want to be a rock," snorted Nox.
"And I won't be a rock!" stormed the little King. "It was bad enough being shut up in a bubble and missing two whole years—oh, you won't let him turn us to rocks, will you, Handy? And do let's help poor Ozma, before it's too late!"