eir
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:

"Hank is a great fighter; perhaps _he_ could conquer the magician."

The Mule turned his head