“Well, we must get her out of it,” said the Wizard. “That is what we came for and of course we must rescue Ozma. But—how?”

Each one looked at some other one for an answer and all shook their heads in a grave and dismal manner. All but Scraps, who danced around them gleefully.

“You’re afraid,” said the Patchwork Girl, “because so many things can hurt your meat bodies. Why don’t you give it up and go home? How can you fight a great magician when you have nothing to fight with?”

Dorothy looked at her reflectively.

“Scraps,” said she, “you know that Ugu couldn’t hurt you, a bit, whatever he did; nor could he hurt me, ’cause I wear the Nome King’s Magic Belt. S’pose just we two go on together, and leave the others here to wait for us?”

“No, no!” said the Wizard positively. “That won’t do at all. Ozma is more powerful than either of you, yet she could not defeat the wicked Ugu, who has shut her up in a dungeon. We must go to the Shoemaker in one mighty band, for only in union is there strength.”

“That is excellent advice,” said the Lavender Bear, approvingly.

“But what can we do, when we get to Ugu?” inquired the Cookie Cook anxiously.

“Do not expect a prompt answer to that important question,” replied the Wizard, “for we must first plan our line of conduct. Ugu knows, of course, that we are after him, for he has seen our approach in the Magic Picture, and he has read of all we have done up to the present moment in the Great Book of Records. Therefore we cannot expect to take him by surprise.”

“Don’t you suppose Ugu would listen to reason?” asked Betsy. “If we explained to him how wicked he has been, don’t you think he’d let poor Ozma go?”

“And give me back my dishpan?” added the Cookie Cook eagerly.

“Yes, yes; won’t he say he’s sorry and get on his knees and beg our pardon?” cried Scraps, turning a flip-flop to show her scorn of the suggestion. “When Ugu the Shoemaker does that, please knock at the front door and let me know.”

The Wizard sighed and rubbed his bald head with a puzzled air.

“I’m quite sure Ugu will not be polite to us,” said he, “so we must conquer this cruel magician by force, much as we dislike to be rude to anyone. But none of you has yet suggested a way to do that. Couldn’t the Little Pink Bear tell us how?” he asked, turning to the Bear King.

“No, for that is something that is going to happen,” replied the Lavender Bear. “He can only tell us what already has happened.”

Again they were grave and thoughtful. But after a time Betsy said in a hesitating voice: