“Then it’s got lost,” Jimmie continued. “Ever stand behind the scenes in a theatre and hold a moon up on a stick?”
“Never did.”
“Well, I did, on the Bowery, once, and I got so interested in what was goin’ on in front that the moon set in the east. That’s what’s the matter with this moon. Some—”
“There ain’t no supe holding up this moon on a stick.”
“Then they’ve moved the Panama canal,” insisted Jimmie. “If they hadn’t, we would have come to the cut a long time ago. That moon is supposed to be in the south. It ought to be.”
“Perhaps a little west of south.”
“Well, we crossed over the ditch down here, didn’t we, and struck into the jungle from the west side of the Culebra cut?”
“Of course we did.”
“Then if we keep the moon in the south, on our right, we’ll come back to the cut?”
“Sure. Anyway, we ought to.”