"That's all right. You're guyin' me. But say, where did you get your education?"
"I stole that, too. Did you ever hear of a French marquise that ran stage lines and shot fellows out West? Well, I robbed his ranch, and carried off a cook-book. That's how I learned to boil salt pork."
"That's where you learned how to feed a fellow on guff. I'm givin' it to you straight. I want to know, for they say that a fellow never gets too old to learn, and I'd like to have education enough to get out of hard work."
"You don't see me out of it, do you?"
"No, but I guess you could do somethin' else if you wanted to. Did you go to school much when you was a boy?"
"I saw the worn doorsteps in the old part of Yale, for two days, and then I turned away and went West. My father died, and I didn't want to be a tax on mother, so I decided to shift for myself."
"Was it a good shift?"
"I can't say it was. Are you going to bed?" Milford asked, as Mitchell got up from the table.
"No, not now. I've got an engagement to take the Dutch girl out in a boat."
"She'll upset your craft and drown you."