“Never mind.  It’s no disgrace to be patched in a country ruled by such a cruel Boolooroo as we have.  Let the boy look at me if he wants to.  I’m not pretty, but that’s not my fault.  Blame the Boolooroo.”

“I—­I’m glad to meet you, sir,” stammered Button-Bright.  “What is your name, please?”

“I’m now named Jimfred Jonesjinks, and my partner is called Fredjim Jinksjones.  He’s busy at present guarding the Treasure Chamber, but I’ll introduce you to him when he comes back.  We’ve had the misfortune to be patched, you know.”

“What is being patched?” asked the boy.

“They cut two of us in halves and mismatch the halves—­half of one to half of the other, you know—­and then the other two halves are patched together.  It destroys our individuality and makes us complex creatures, so it’s the worst punishment than can be inflicted in Sky Island.”

“Oh,” said Button-Bright, alarmed at such dreadful butchery.  “Doesn’t it hurt?”

“No, it doesn’t hurt,” replied Jimfred.  “But it makes one frightfully nervous.  They stand you under a big knife, which drops and slices you neatly in two, exactly in the middle.  Then they match half of you to another person who has likewise been sliced, and there you are, patched to someone you don’t care about and haven’t much interest in.  If your half wants to do something, the other half is likely to want to do something different, and the funny part of it is you don’t quite know which is your half and which is the other half.  It’s a terrible punishment, and in a country where one can’t die or be killed until he has lived his six hundred years, to be patched is a great misfortune.”

“I’m sure it is,” said Button-Bright earnestly.  “But can’t you ever get—­get—­UNpatched again?”

“If the Boolooroo would consent, I think it could be done,” Jimfred replied, “but he never will consent.  This is about the meanest Boolooroo who ever ruled this land, and he was the first to invent patching people as a punishment.  I think we will all be glad when his three hundred years of rule are ended.”

“When will that be?” inquired the boy.

“Hush-sh-sh!” cried everyone in a chorus, and they all looked over their shoulders as if frightened by the question.  The officer with the blue-gold chain pulled Button-Bright’s sleeve and whispered, “Follow me, please.”  And then he beckoned to Cap’n Bill and led the two slaves to another room where they were alone.

“I must instruct you in your duties,” said he when they were all comfortably seated in cozy chairs with blue cushions.  “You must learn how to obey the Boolooroo’s commands, so he won’t become angry and have you patched.”

“How could he patch us?” asked the sailorman curiously.

“Oh, he’d just slice you all in halves and then patch half of the boy to half of the girl, and the other half to half of you, and the other half of you to the other half of the girl.  See?”