“Can’t say I do,” said Cap’n Bill, much bewildered.  “It’s a reg’lar mix-up.”

“That’s what it’s meant to be,” explained the young officer.

“An’ seein’ as we’re Earth folks, an’ not natives of Sky Island, I’ve an idea the slicing machine would about end us, without bein’ patched,” continued the sailor.

“Oh,” said Button-Bright, “so it would.”

“While you are in this country, you can’t die till you’ve lived six hundred years,” declared the officer.

“Oh,” said Button-Bright.  “That’s different, of course.  But who are you, please?”

“My name is Ghip-Ghi-siz-zle.  Can you remember it?”

“I can ’member the ‘sizzle,’” said the boy, “but I’m ’fraid the Gwip—­Grip—­Glip—­”

“Ghip-Ghi-siz-zle” repeated the officer slowly.  “I want you to remember my name, because if you are going to live here, you are sure to hear of me a great many times.  Can you keep a secret?”

“I can try,” said Button-Bright.

“I’ve kep’ secrets—­once in a while,” asserted Cap’n Bill.

“Well, try to keep this one.  I’m to be the next Boolooroo of Sky Island.”

“Good for you!” cried the sailor.  “I wish you was the Boolooroo now, sir.  But it seems you’ve got to wait a hundred years or more afore you can take his place.”

Ghip-Ghisizzle rose to his feet and paced up and down the room for a time, a frown upon his face.  Then he halted and faced Cap’n Bill.  “Sir,” said he, “there lies all my trouble.  I’m quite sure the present Boolooroo has reigned three hundred years next Thursday, but he claims it is only two hundred years, and as he holds the Royal Book of Records under lock and key in the Royal Treasury, there is no way for us to prove he is wrong.”

“Oh,” said Button-Bright.  “How old is the Boolooroo?”

“He was two hundred years old when he was elected,” replied Ghip-Ghisizzle.  “If he has already reigned three hundred years as I suspect, then he is now five hundred years old.  You see, he is trying to steal another hundred years of rule so as to remain a tyrant all his life.”

“He don’t seem as old as that,” observed Cap’n Bill thoughtfully.  “Why, I’m only sixty myself, an’ I guess I look twice as old as your king does.”

“We do not show our age in looks,” the officer answered.  “I am just about your age, sir—­sixty-two my next birthday—­but I’m sure I don’t look as old as that.”

“That’s a fact,” agreed Cap’n Bill.  Then he turned to Button-Bright and added, “Don’t that prove Sky Island is a fairy country as I said?”

“Oh, I’ve known that all along,” said the boy.  “The slicing and patching proves it, and so do lots of other things.”

“Now then,” said Ghip-Ghisizzle, “let us talk over your duties.  It seems you must mix the royal nectar, Cap’n Bill.  Do you know how to do that?”

“I’m free to say as I don’t, friend Sizzle.”