"You shall have twenty pipes, my good goose!" promised the dummy. "Everybody shall have a pipe!"
Dorothy and Snip giggled a little at this. Then, as Kabumpo stepped upon the broad portico, Pajuka, remembering Mombi's past threats, began to scream hoarsely, "The witch—don't let her go, don't let her go, whatever you do! She'll steal Ozma's magic and destroy us all. Hold on to Mombi!"
Kabumpo had been on the point of dropping the old woman so he could pull the jewelled bell rope, but at Pajuka's warning he tightened his grip.
"Pray alight, Dorothy, and announce his Majesty!" puffed the Elegant Elephant, forgetting that not more than an hour ago he had called the King a piece of a night shirt. Dorothy and Snip slid down together and, both seizing the rope, set it to jingling merrily.
"Won't they be surprised," murmured Dorothy, looking over her shoulder at Kabumpo and his strange passengers. "Won't they be surprised when they see who is here? But why don't they come to the door?"
Why indeed? For the very simple reason, that there was no one to come—not even the cook's boy. For that morning, Jellia Jamb, Ozma's small serving maid, looking from the castle window, had seen her mistress and the little group who were with her in the garden vanish before her eyes. Rushing frantically through the palace, she spread the dire news, and immediately the entire household had set out to find the lost ones—the entire household from the tallest courtier to the tiniest page. Tik Tok might have enlightened them, but the machine man had run down. No one thought to wind him up and even Tik Tok did not know that Ozma and her friends had gone to Morrow.
In puzzled dismay, Dorothy pressed her nose to the diamond panes in the door. Then, seeing that the great hall was empty, she tried the knob. In their excitement the searchers had left the door unlocked and, with a little exclamation of surprise, Dorothy opened it and motioned for Kabumpo to follow with his passengers.