"Writin'? Say, if I lived t' be a hundred years old I might learn t' scribble me own name, but dat's all."
"Oh, no. I am sure you could learn to read and write. If you like I will teach you both."
"Start in den!" exclaimed Jimmy with the air of a martyr. "De sooner de quicker. Say, tell ye what I'll do," he added as he put back in the box the cigarette he had not lighted. "If youse kin teach me t' read an' write I'll—I'll stop smokin'."
"Really?" asked Dick, much delighted.
"Sure. I guess I kin, but I'd like a cigarette awful jest now. Maybe if I smoke one now I kin quit easier."
"If you are going to stop, you might as well stop at once," said Dick firmly, for he wanted to reform his partner if he could.
"All right," agreed Jimmy with a sigh, and he put the box of cigarettes back in his pocket.
"What are you going to do with them?" asked Dick.
"I'll give 'em t' Dutchy. He smokes."
"Throw them away. It isn't good for Sam to smoke, and you shouldn't give him the chance."