"Come, come, mates," spoke up one of the men, Tompkins, who had
taken no part in the altercation, "shootin' off our bloomin' mugs
won't get us nothin'. As Spider 'ere said afore, we'll all bloody
well be picked up, anyway, sez 'e, so wot's the use o' squabblin'?
Let's eat, sez I."

"That's not a bad idea," said Monsieur Thuran, and then, turning
to the third sailor, Wilson, he said: "Pass one of those tins aft,
my good man."

"Fetch it yerself," retorted Wilson sullenly. "I ain't a-takin'
no orders from no--furriner--you ain't captain o' this ship yet."

The result was that Clayton himself had to get the tin, and then
another angry altercation ensued when one of the sailors accused
Clayton and Monsieur Thuran of conspiring to control the provisions
so that they could have the lion's share.

"Some one should take command of this boat," spoke up Jane Porter,
thoroughly disgusted with the disgraceful wrangling that had marked
the very opening of a forced companionship that might last for many
days. "It is terrible enough to be alone in a frail boat on the
Atlantic, without having the added misery and danger of constant
bickering and brawling among the members of our party. You
men should elect a leader, and then abide by his decisions in all
matters. There is greater need for strict discipline here than
there is upon a well-ordered ship."

She had hoped before she voiced her sentiments that it would not