XVIII. A Ship Divided against ItselfAs we left the dining-saloon a wireless message was handed to Mme. Storey. She took it down to our cabin to decode it. When she returned on deck she did not tell me what was in it. I judged from her face that it was serious, though as long as the crowd was around she appeared as rattle-brained as ever.
Horace, Martin, Mme. Storey, and I went up to the chart-room to consult with Captain Farman. Horace brought Martin into it as a matter of course. To do Martin justice, I must say that his suggestions on the whole showed better judgment than those of his employer.
Old Jim was still at the wheel. The door into the wheelhouse was closed, of course. Les told us of the arrangements he had made.
“I know the crew pretty well,” he said, grinning, “because I’ve
