“I don’t know,” responded Jamie, and was at once caught up with “Forfeit! forfeit!”
“Oh, by Jimminy, there am I, too, in the same box. Take your swig, Commander, and pass to me.”
“But what am I to call you?” asked the puzzle-headed boy.
“Mate, or captain, or boatswain, or admiral.”
“I can’t remember all that.”
“Mate will do. Always say mate, whatever you ask or answer. Do you understand, General!”
“Yes.”
“Forfeit! forfeit! You should have said ‘Yes, mate.’” Mr. Scantlebray put his hands to his sides and laughed. “Oh, Jimminy! there am I again. The instructor as bad as the pupil. I’m a bad fellow as instructor, that I am, Field-Marshal. So—your Aunt Dionysia has come in for some thousands of pounds—how many do you think! Have you heard?”
“I think I’ve heard——”
“Mate! Mate!”