The place in his mind for _one_ beer, and _two_, is wiped out, like a wave on the beach wipes out the writing in the sand." "I guess he ain't goin' to forget arithmetic no matter how much noise you shouts," Daughtry argued aloud against his sinking spirits.

"An' I ain't goin' to butt in," he added hopefully.

"You just watch 'm for himself." The tall, schooner-glass of beer was placed before the captain, who laid a swift, containing hand around it.

And Michael, strung as a taut string, knowing that something was expected of him, on his toes to serve, remembered his ancient lessons on the _Makambo_, vainly looked into the impassive face of Steward for a sign, then looked about and saw, not _two_ glasses, but _one_ glass.

So well had he learned the difference between one and two that it came to him--how the profoundest psychologist can no more state than can he state what thought is in itself--that there was one glass only when two glasses had been commanded.