“Very well, then, begin with the ‘Wreck of the Grosvenor.’ We’ve got all his works on board, and pretty soon you’ll know what to do with a mutiny, how to conduct yourself when marooned, the proper etiquette to adopt if tackled by a cyclone, what to say when you and a nice girl are left alone on a wreck. Of course I admit that W. W. Jacobs is excellent, and that he puts forth most admirable text-books on navigation, but he is only good below-bridge, as you might put it; for rivers and other inland waters, and perhaps a bit of the coast. When you take to deep-sea navigation you must study Clark Russell, my boy. Take the advice of a tarry old salt like myself, and study Clark Russell. Do not be deluded by my white apparel; I am tar to the finger ends, and full of salt junk, because I’m three quarter way through his latest book.” “I suppose it would be useless for me to say, sir, that I believe you are running into a trap?” “Oh, quite. Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof. You refer, of course, to our being bottled up in that unpronounceable river, and ordinarily I should give some attention to the matter, but I cannot now, as I am in the middle of the most exciting chapter in this most exciting book. Once we are inside the trap, Mackeller, we’ll study its construction, and find a way out. There seems to me little practical use in studying an imaginary trap which may not be there when we arrive. That leads to disappointment. Let us first get into the trap if we can; then if there’s no way out, we will console ourselves by the knowledge that there are plenty of provisions and books to read on board. If the worst comes to the worst, we will get our wireless telegraphy at work until we pick up a liner similarly equipped, and thus get into communication with Clark Russell, relate our position, and ask him what to do. I’ll bet you a fiver he’ll send a solution of the problem.” Mackeller compressed his lips, and turned on his heel without a word. “Oh, very well,” laughed Stranleigh, “have it your own way. Try Jacobs if you like, but I bank on Russell,” and with that parting remark his lordship resumed his reading. Mackeller grimly resolved to make no further attempt to instill common sense into an empty head, neither did he take to the reading of freshwater or salt-water authors. He devoted what time remained to him in poring over certain scientific works he had discovered in the library.