He came bearing a large gourd, and he knelt before Kate so that she might look into it. She cried out at what she saw, for he had washed the inside of the gourd and filled it with cool water from the spring. "Look!" said she to Harrigan. "It's water--and my throat is fairly burning." "Humph," growled Harrigan, and he avoided the eye of McTee. The gourd was too heavy and clumsy for her to handle. The captain had to raise and tip it so that she might drink, and as she drank, her eyes went up to his with gratitude. Harrigan set his teeth and commenced raking the roasted eggs from the hot ashes. When her thirst was quenched, she looked in amazement at Harrigan; even his back showed anger. In some mysterious manner it was plain that she had displeased the big Irishman. He turned now and offered her an egg, after removing the clay mold. But when she thanked him with the most flattering of smiles, she became aware that McTee in turn was vexed, while the Irishman seemed perfectly happy again. "Have an egg, McTee," he offered, and rolled a couple toward the big captain. "I will not. I never had a taste for eggs." "Why, captain," murmured Kate, "you can't live on shellfish?" "Humph! Can't I? Very nutritious, Kate, and very healthful. Have to be careful what you eat in this climate. Those eggs, for instance. Can you tell, Harrigan, whether or not they're fresh?" Harrigan, his mouth full of egg, paused and glared at the captain. "For the captain of a ship, McTee," he said coldly, "your head is packed with fool ideas. Eat your fish an' don't spoil the appetites of others." He turned to Kate. "These eggs are new-laid--they're--they're not more than twenty-four hours old." His glance dared McTee to doubt the statement. The captain accepted the challenge. "I suppose you watched 'em being laid, Harrigan?" Harrigan sneered. "I can tell by the taste partly and partly"--here he cracked the shell of another egg and, stripping it off, held up the little white oval to the light--"and partly by the color. It's dead white, isn't it?" "Yes." "That shows it's fresh. If there was a bit of blue in it, it'd be stale." McTee breathed hard. "You win," he said. "You ought to be on the stage, Harrigan." But Harrigan was deep in another egg. Kate watched the two with covert glances, amazed, wondering. They had saved each other from death at sea, and now they were quarreling bitterly over the qualities of eggs. And not eggs alone, for McTee, not to be outdone in courtesy, passed a handful of his shellfish to Harrigan. The Irishman regarded the fish and then McTee with cold disgust. "D'you really think I'm crazy enough to eat one of these?" he queried. Black McTee was black indeed as he glowered at the big Irishman. "Open up; let's hear what you got to say about these shellfish," he demanded. Harrigan announced laconically: "Scurvy." "What?" This from Kate and McTee at one breath.