"Inquisitive" was a word Sailor had not heard before, and he could only guess at its meaning. But he thought Klondyke so little inquisitive that he said at once quite simply and frankly, "Dunno." He then added by way of an afterthought, although Klondyke was a new chum and rated the same as himself, "Mister."
"No, I expect not," said Klondyke, "but I've been wondering a bit lately"—there was something very pleasant in Klondyke's tone—"how you come to be aboard this hell ship. One would have thought you'd have done better ashore."
Sailor was not able to offer an opinion upon that.
"In some kind of a store or an office?"
"Can't read, can't write."
"No?" Klondyke's eyebrows went up for a fraction of an instant, then they came down as if a bit ashamed of themselves for having gone up at all. "But it's quite easy to learn, you know."
Sailor gasped in astonishment. He had always been led to believe that to learn to read and write was a task of superhuman difficulty. Some of his friends at Blackhampton had attended a night school now and again, but none of them had been able to make much of the racket of reading and writing, except one, Nick Price, who had a gift that way and was good for nothing else. Besides, as soon as he really took to the game a change came over him. Finally, he left the town.
"I'd never be able to read an' write," said Sailor.
"Why not?" said Klondyke. "Why not, like anybody else ... if you stuck it? Of course, you'd have to stick it, you know. It mightn't come very kind at first."
This idea was so entirely new that Sailor rose with quite a feeling of excitement from the upturned bucket on which he sat.