"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.
Pages:
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76