“But we ought to save her as quick as we can,” ventured Peg. “Couldn’t we hurry back to the Emerald City again?”
“It might be too late,” wheezed Kabumpo. “Let—me—see!”
“Hello!” cried the Scarecrow. “Here comes Glinda.” As he spoke the swan chariot of the good Sorceress floated down beside the little party.
“Bother!” groaned Kabumpo, as Glinda stepped out.
“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.”