“What are we to do with this one?” Simon asked, lifting the remaining dish.
“I reckon we had better divide what is in it, for it seems much as if we had been forgotten this day.”
“But surely they count on relieving us for a time.”
“They haven’t done so as yet, and whoever brought the grub was in a tremendous hurry.”
“What do you suppose can be happening on deck?” the lad asked, in a whisper, and I, rendered irritable because a similar question was in my own mind, causing me decided fear, replied, sharply:
“What good can come of our speculating about matters on deck? We have been set to this work, and should be men enough to take what comes, or get along on what fails us, without grumbling.”
“It must be they have sighted a Britisher, and are giving chase,” the lad said, as if trying by thus speaking to persuade himself such was the case, while I, now become a prey to gloomy fears, said, without believing what I spoke:
“That must be the reason why whoever brought the grub was in such a hurry to get on deck again.”
This reply appeared to satisfy Simon; but I was very near to believing that the America’s crew had broken forth in open mutiny.