"You mean eggs belong to the finder," corrected Phil.
"Yes, I guess so. Any way, so you say it. I'm going to eat this egg, even if it does give me indigestion all the rest of my life. How do you cook ostrich eggs?"
"I never cooked any, my boy. You will have to consult the cook on that point. Perhaps he may consent to cook it for you."
"I'll give you a slice off the white when it's cooked."
"Thank you. You are welcome to the whole egg. Better go up and locate yourselves, boys."
"What number is our room, Mr. Sparling?" asked Phil.
"Number twenty-four, on the upper deck. I have given you a nice, roomy, light and airy cabin that I think will please you. It is one of the best on the ship and you should be very comfortable there."
"I am sure we shall be, and thank you very much," said Phil.
"Come along, Teddy."
Together they made their way to the boat and through the crowded, bustling lower deck, where the big canvas-covered wagons were being warped into place, a sort of orderly confusion reigning over everything, the scene lighted by lanterns swinging from hooks all about the deck.
The lads found their cabin, and after lighting the lamp, uttered exclamations of surprise. Instead of the narrow berths they had expected to see, there were white enameled iron bedsteads, a washstand with the same neat finish, and several pictures on the walls.