"Do about learnin' what you've forgot?"
"Come again, pardner. I'm not Old Moore. Manchester City and Birmingham no goals half time."
"Do about learnin' a bit o' figurin' what you ought to ha' knowed afore you went to sea?"
"Do you think I'm Datas?" The flash of scorn seared the soul of Henry Harper like the live end of an electric wire. "It's a silly juggins question. How the hell should I know?"
No, Ginger was not helpful.
But tonight the Sailor was in the seventh heaven, he was walking on air, therefore with a courage not his as a rule he would not own defeat.
"Suppose you'd almost forgot how to read the news. What'd you do about it?"
"Do about it? Why, I'd pleadin' well go and drown meself."
The Sailor drew in his breath in a little gasp. But the matter was so tragic that he must go on. And it was no more than Klondyke had foreseen.
"Perhaps there's someone as would learn me," said the Sailor half to himself. And then his pluck gave out.