you?"

"All right," he replied; but the scene awed the boy and his voice
trembled a little with fear. Nothing could awe the Patchwork Girl, and
although the Woozy was somewhat uneasy in these splendid surroundings
the Glass Cat was delighted with the sumptuousness of the court and the
impressiveness of the occasion--pretty big words but quite expressive.

At a sign from Ozma the soldier removed Ojo's white robe and the boy
stood face to face with the girl who was to decide his punishment. He
saw at a glance how lovely and sweet she was, and his heart gave a bound
of joy, for he hoped she would be merciful.

Ozma sat looking at the prisoner a long time. Then she said gently:

"One of the Laws of Oz forbids anyone to pick a six-leaved clover. You
are accused of having broken this Law, even after you had been warned
not to do so."

[Illustration: "_I demand that you set this poor Munchkin Boy free_"]

Ojo hung his head and while he hesitated how to reply the Patchwork Girl
stepped forward and spoke for him.

"All this fuss is about nothing at all," she said, facing Ozma
unabashed. "You can't prove he picked the six-leaved clover, so you've
no right to accuse him of it. Search him, if you like, but you won't
find the clover; look in his basket and you'll find it's not there. He
hasn't got it, so I demand that you set this poor Munchkin boy free."

The people of Oz listened to this defiance in amazement and wondered at
the queer Patchwork Girl who dared talk so boldly to their Ruler. But
Ozma sat silent and motionless and it was the little Wizard who answered
Scraps.

"So the clover hasn't been picked, eh?" he said. "I think it has. I
think the boy hid it in his basket, and then gave the basket to you. I
also think you dropped the clover into this vase, which stood in
Princess Dorothy's room, hoping to get rid of it so it would not prove
the boy guilty. You're a stranger here, Miss Patches, and so you don't
know that nothing can be hidden from our powerful Ruler's Magic
Picture--nor from the watchful eyes of the humble Wizard of Oz. Look,
all of you!" With these words he waved his hands toward the vase on the
table, which Scraps now noticed for the first time.

From the mouth of the vase a plant sprouted, slowly growing before their
eyes until it became a beautiful bush, and on the topmost branch
appeared the six-leaved clover which Ojo had unfortunately picked.

The Patchwork Girl looked at the clover and said: