“What business of yours is that?” snapped Mr. Skeel, with a return of his old, overbearing classroom manner.
“Nothing, of course. But I’ve got a right to make a remark, and whoever you are, I’d remind you that we’ve saved your life.”
“And what’s more,” went on Abe, “we’re all equal here. We’re not on board a ship now, and there’s no captain, unless we elect Tom here, which I vote we do.”
“Second the motion,” came from Joe. “How’s that, Captain Tom?”
“I—I’ll not serve under him!” muttered Burton Skeel. “I won’t take orders from him.”
“Then you can go adrift again, and shift for yourself if you like,” spoke Joe sharply. “The majority rules here, and Abe and I vote for Captain Tom.”
“Oh, I don’t know enough about a ship to be captain,” spoke our hero.
“You don’t have to know much about a ship to navigate this water-logged craft,” said Joe. “Captain we’ve voted you, and captain you’ll be. There has to be some one to give orders, and you’re him. If this Professor Skeel, as you call him, or Mr. Trendell, as we knew him, doesn’t like it he can go elsewhere.”
“Oh, I suppose I must give in,” said the new passenger bitterly.
“That’s all that need be said,” commented Abe, “and if you’ve got a secret you can keep it. We won’t ask any questions, will we mate?”