“Yes, I would,” said Bruce, firmly; “of course I would. I would hire them to tow our ship and cargo into port, and pay them liberally, of course; but as to recognizing them as being owners, so long as we, the salvors, were on board, I would do nothing of the kind. The moment the captain and crew deserted the Petrel, that moment they lost all claims to her, on their own account and on account of their employers. The owners after that must look to the insurance companies, while we gain the benefits of good fortune and our own boldness.” Bruce spoke all this in the most cool and confident manner in the world, and in the same tone as though the Petrel was lying in some safe harbor, and he and the boys were contemplating her, and considering her from a cosy nook on the wharf. Yet all the time the ship was pitching, and tossing, and straining, and the waves boiled around, and the seas rolled in foam over her deck. The conversation was at length interrupted by Solomon. His head and shoulders were projecting from the skylight. He was standing on the cabin table. “Ise ben a tryin, chilen,” said he, “an a deav-orin to git up some kine ob a fire down heah, but I ben an made it six or seben times, an ebery time de water hab stinguished it. Don know dat dar’s any sort o’ use in tryin to kin’l it agin, specially as all de kinlin wood’s used up, an de res ob it is soaked through an through. Pears to me we’ll hab to do widout de tea an coffee, an drink cole water dis time, unless we can manage to hist dis yer stove on deck. Only, if we do, it might turn out to be a leetle mite tottlish.” “Well, boys,” said Bart, “what do you say? Shall we try and get the stove on deck, or drink cold water?” “The stove on deck? O, nonsense!” said Arthur. “What’s the odds if we don’t have tea and coffee? We’ve got enough to eat; we’ve got a precious sight better supply than we ever had on board the Antelope--cold boiled ham, mustard, biscuit, butter, cheese, potted meats, and no end of things. Bother the stove, I say. Let it slide. What do we want with it up here? We never could fix it in a tight place.” This was the decision of all. In fact all saw that any attempt to hoist up the stove would have been absurd. The ship was pitching and tossing too much to make such a task practicable. So Solomon came forth, having been driven from the cabin, as he had formerly been driven from the cook’s galley; but not for this did he lose any of his equanimity. He proceeded to lay out the breakfast as well as he could upon the skylight, piling up the mattresses in a dry place, and laying the table with a regard rather to use than to show. He tacitly assumed that under the circumstances the breakfast would be somewhat informal, and did not think it necessary to risk plates and cups by putting them where they would be certain to be flung off by the motion of the ship. The table was therefore rudely spread, but the eatables were all that could be desired.