a brain! It's responsive and sensitive
to conditions of its environment, especially when coming up against
something new and unexpected."

"You mean they don't have bubble gum on Planet X?" Chow asked with a
grin.

Tom smiled as Bud said, "This means we should be able to communicate
with it."

"And the brain will probably be able to communicate back to us!" Tom
went on excitedly. "We may even be able to learn about Planet X!"

As he spoke, Ole Think Box's whirling became slower and slower. Finally
it came to rest close to the three humans.

"What do you suppose happened to the gum?" Bud asked. "Did he chew it
all up?"

"It's probably unchanged," Tom replied. "Our visitor is used to it now."

Chow was still wide-eyed with awe. He stared at the strange creature as
if expecting it to snap at him in revenge for the gum.

"Don't worry, old-timer. Think Box won't bite," Bud teased. "With that
gum spree, he's just been initiated into our American tribal customs!"
The pilot grinned. "Hey! We haven't given him a proper name."

"You're right." Tom looked at his pal and chuckled. "Got any ideas?"

"Hmm. Let me see." Bud scowled and paced about with his hands clasped
behind his back. "Firetop--John Q. Pyro--"

"But it ain't on fire now," Chow pointed out.

"Maybe not, but he sure blazed a trail getting here," Bud argued.

Tom and Chow countered with several ideas of their own, but nothing
seemed suitable until Bud suddenly stopped short and snapped his
fingers.

"I have it! He's a visitor from Planet X, so let's call him _Exman!_"
Bud spelled it out.

"Perfect!" Tom was delighted and Chow agreed that it seemed "a right
good monicker." The Texan insisted seriously that if the creature were
going to be named, he should also have a proper christening.

"Why not?" Tom agreed, as both boys broke into laughter. Bud also liked
the idea.

Chow had a troublesome afterthought. He shoved back his sombrero,
squinted frowningly at the brain container, and scratched his bald head.
"For boat christenings and statues and what not, you break bottles on
'em or cut ribbons or pull a sheet off 'em," the cook said. "But how in
tarnation do you christen a buckaroo from space?"

"Nothing to it, Chow," Tom assured him. "We'll do the job up nice and
fancy with a display of electricity. But first let's get Exman over to
the lab."

The three loaded the energy container into the pickup truck which had
brought it to the hillside spot.