“But where’s your coat, man? Oh, I remember. Wait and I’ll fetch you one of mine.”
In a short time the missing garment was made good, and I was falling to with avidity:—
“How do you manage your meals and service here? Have you cooks or servants?”
“Of course not. We are anarchists, and everything depends on private initiative. Every man is as good as another, and every man is a volunteer. Later on you will be expected to bestir yourself also.”
“But how do you avoid chaos?”
“There is no chaos to avoid. Outside the engine-room and conning-tower there is little a man cannot quickly learn to do at need. We are very simple in our wants—that is part of our creed—and, consequently, have a deal of leisure. The watches are the worst part, for the captain is very particular.”
“Ah, wait a minute. What authority has he?”
“The authority of the soul of this enterprise, and its best man. We would voluntarily support him in a crisis. Five days ago a couple of Italians turned rusty. He shot both where they stood, and the men in their hearts approved of it. But he is an iron man. Wait till you see him?”
“Is any one on the Attila free to go where he likes?”
“Yes, except into the captain’s quarters. To pass there a permit is required to all except myself, Schwartz, and Thomas. The engine-room watchers pass through every three hours, and a passage runs from it to the conning-tower and magazine below. You may guess what the latter contains.”