"Well, never mind," said Doc Madison reassuringly. "Maybe you are
blessed above most people--you can pick one out for yourself. What'll it
be?"

The Flopper's thumb and forefinger scratched desperately for a moment,
then his face lighted with inspiration.

"Swipe me!" said he excitedly. "I got it--Jimmy de Squirm."

Doc Madison shook his head gravely.

"No, Flopper, I'm afraid not," he said gently. "That's another weak
point in your interpretation of the rôle, that I'll come to in a minute.
We'll give you an Irish name by way of charity--it'll help to make your
classical English sound like brogue. We'll call you Coogan--Michael
Coogan--that lets you off with plain Mike in times of stress."

"Swipe me!" said the Flopper, with perfect complacence.

"Glad it pleases you," smiled Doc Madison, "Here's your lay, then.
You've got to remember that you were born crooked and--"

Helena giggled.

"I didn't mean it"--Doc Madison's gray eyes twinkled. "You are waking
up, too, Helena. I mean, Flopper, you've got to remember that you were
born twisted up into the same shape you are in when you hit Needley. You
come from--let's see--we'll have to have a big city where the next door
neighbors pass each other with a vacant stare. Ever been in Chicago?"