"Well, then, what'll we make him the ink out of?"

     "Many makes it out of iron-rust and tears; but that's the common sort and women; the best authorities uses their own blood. Jim can do that; and when he wants to send any little common ordinary mysterious message to let the world know where he's captivated, he can write it on the bottom of a tin plate with a fork and throw it out of the window. The Iron Mask always done that, and it's a blame' good way, too."

     "Jim ain't got no tin plates. They feed him in a pan."

     "That ain't nothing; we can get him some."

     "Can't nobody READ his plates."

     "That ain't got anything to DO with it, Huck Finn. All HE'S got to do is to write on the plate and throw it out. You don't HAVE to be able to read it. Why, half the time you can't read anything a prisoner writes on a tin plate, or anywhere else."

     "Well, then, what's the sense in wasting the plates?"

     "Why, blame it all, it ain't the PRISONER'S plates."

     "But it's SOMEBODY'S plates, ain't it?"