“For my disappearance,” said Kabumpo, sweeping the door knob and mirror into his pocket. “I’m getting ready to disappear. How do I look?”

Before the Prime Pumper had time to answer, the Elegant Elephant was gone.

Back in his own room, Kabumpo paced impatiently up and down, waiting for night. “I do not see how she could refuse us,” he mumbled every now and then to himself.

That was an anxious afternoon and evening in the palace of Pumperdink. Every few minutes the Courtiers felt themselves nervously to see if they were still there. The servants went about on tip-toe, looking fearfully over their shoulders for the first signs of disappearance. As it grew darker the gates and windows were securely barred and not a candle was lighted. “The less the castle shows, the less likely it is to disappear,” reasoned the King.

The darkness suited Kabumpo. He waited until everyone in the palace had retired, and a full hour longer. Then he stepped softly down the passage to the Prince’s apartment. Pompadore, without undressing had flung himself upon a couch and fallen into an uneasy slumber.

Without making a sound, Kabumpo took the Prince’s crown from a dressing cabinet, slipped it carefully into the pocket of his robe, and then carefully lifted the sleeping Prince in his curling trunk and started cautiously down the great hall. Setting him gently on the floor as he reached the palace doors, he pushed back the golden bolts and stepped out into the garden.

The voices of the watchmen calling to each other from the great wall came faintly through the darkness, but the Elegant Elephant hurried to a secre