Then he went to his own cabin, and drawing his pocket knife, set to work cutting another notch in the table.
Frank entered while his chum was engaged in this operation, but he did not interrupt until Jack had finished his task.
“Well?” he asked, as Jack leaned back with a sigh of satisfaction.
Jack looked up.
“Well what?” he demanded.
“How reads the score card?” asked Frank with a smile.
“Score card?”
“Yes, score card. What’s the score; or, in the English of the British Isles, how many notches have you carved on that table?”
“Oh,” said Jack, “I see. Why didn’t you ask that in the first place?”
“Because,” was the reply, “I am giving you a course in plain American. How many?”