"How long do you think you can eat salt horse, without any water to wash it down?"
"I can stand it till I die!"
"I don't think it is worth while to stand it quite so long as that."
"I do! What right has the principal to deny us even a drop of water?"
"What right have we to stand out, and refuse to do our duty? Howe's fellows started the water tanks, and—"
"We didn't do it!" interrupted Raymond, savagely. "I won't stand it."
Rushing out into the steerage, he went to the water jar, in one corner. It was empty, though there was a breaker of water on deck for the use of the Faithful, who were thirsty. He was mad, and ready for desperate steps. He hastened to the mess-room of Howe, and entered just as that worthy was taking a draught from the bottle he had filled at the tanks the evening before.
"What's that?" demanded he.
"Water," replied Howe, good-naturedly.
"Give us a drink—will you? I'm almost choked," asked Raymond, glad to see that there was still an alternative.