"Y—yes."
Craig sat in silence for a moment. Dark thoughts were in his mind but his face showed nothing. "I have a gun," he said, "the only gun in the boat. That makes me the boss. Why don't I keep all the water for myself and let the rest of you die of thirst?"
"Oh, you wouldn't do that!" Fright showed on her face.
"Why wouldn't I?" Craig challenged.
"Because—oh, because—"
"What have you got to offer me that is worth a cup of water?" he demanded.
"What have I got that you want?" she answered. Her eyes were fixed hungrily on Craig's face.
"What have you got that I want! Oh, damn it, girl—" The big man twisted uncomfortably. He avoided her gaze, looking instead at the glassy sea.
"Is it time to wake up?" a new voice asked. It was the voice of Mrs. Miller, who had been lying in the middle of the boat. She raised herself to her knees, looked around at the glassy sea. "I thought—" she whispered. "For a moment I thought I was home again. I guess I must have been—dreaming." She pressed her hands against her eyes to shut out the sight of the sea.