"'Yes, I know, Doctor,' he said quietly. 'You're calculating how much there is of it, and how you may have to use it before we're through. . . . What about Swainson?' "'He'll pull around,' said I. 'The vaseline will ease three-fourths of his trouble within ten minutes.' "'Keep your voice low,' said the skipper, 'as I'm keeping mine.' He bent forward, pretending to consult the compass. 'I've sent all these fellows forward, though they put her down by the head so that it's like steering a monkey by the tail. . . . Now I reckon that you'll be wishful to go back to-morrow, or as soon as may be, and join your party. That's so?' "'That's so,' said I, as I finished the injection and turned to deal with the stoker. "'Well, I'd like to have you here aboard,' said the skipper. 'But so's best. We want some brains in No. 2 boat; and, between ourselves, Grimalson hasn't the brains of a hare. He's a second-cousin-twice-removed of one of our directors. He's no seaman at all; and his navigation's all a pretence. . . . I suppose, now, _you_ can't navigate?' "'Good Lord, no, sir!' said I. 'I just understand the principles of it--that's all.' "'It's a damned sight more than Grimalson understands, I'll bet,' responded Captain Macnaughten, studying the binnacle and speaking as though we were discussing the weather and the crops. 'You may push your finger into that man anywhere, he's that soft and boggy--no better'n slush--_and_ pink. . . . Don't you despise a pink-coloured man? Still, I want you to understand, Doctor, that he's the superior officer on No. 2, for the time being.' "'I understand,' said I, looking up from my business of unguenting the stoker, who was not badly burnt. "'But if Grimalson should turn rotten. . . . Well, now, I've had an eye on you, sir, and I judge I can share off on you a bit of trouble I wouldn't share off on most. . . . _You_ must know as well as I do that the chance is pretty thin for us all, even if this weather holds. I reckon there's no nearer land than Easter Island, four hundred good miles norr'ard, and a beat in light winds. . . . I've heard too much about long beats in open boats--heard enough to make the flesh creep. Anyways, I'm responsible. I've turned it over in my head: and I'm giving orders--you take me? We're not steering for any land at all. We're steering the shortest way, due south--what wind there is drawing behind us--on the chance to hit in with the way of traffic--Sydney ships making round the Horn. . . . You'll not argue that, I hope?" he demanded. "'On the contrary, sir,' I agreed, 'I just know enough to be sure that you are doing the wisest thing.'