Percy pulled out his wrappers and tobacco. Spurling nipped his preparations in the bud.
"Can't I smoke just one?"
"Not inside this cabin. It's too close. We might as well make that a permanent rule."
"All right! You're the doctor! But I thought it might help kill this smell of tarred rope."
"I like the tarred rope better than I do the cigarettes."
Percy went outside and burned his coffin-nail unsociably. When he came back the cabin was shipshape for the night. Jim was setting the alarm-clock. Percy, watching him, thought he detected a mistake.
"You've got the V on the wrong side of the I," he said. "IV doesn't stand for six."
"But I didn't mean six," retorted Spurling. "I meant four. Now you see why we haven't any time for card-playing. And as soon as we're really at work we'll be getting up a good deal earlier than that. Turn in, fellows!"
He extinguished one of the small lamps.