before him. He murmured, Well, well, with abstraction. His companions found seats and Major Ayers stared at his plate. He murmured Well, well, also. Mrs. Maurier chewed her lip nervously, putting her hand on Mr. Talliaferro’s sleeve. Major Ayers murmured:
“It does look familiar, doesn’t it?” and Fairchild said:
“Why, it’s grapefruit: I can tell every time.” He looked at Major Ayers. “I’m not going to eat mine, now. I’m going to put it away and save it.”
“Right you are,” agreed Major Ayers readily. “Save ’em by all means.” He set his grapefruit carefully to one side. “Advise you people to do the same,” he added at large.
“Save them?” Mrs. Maurier repeated in astonishment. “Why, there are more of them. We have several crates.”
Fairchild wagged his head at her. “I can’t risk it. They might be lost overboard or something, and us miles from land. I’m going to save mine.”
Major Ayers offered a suggestion. “Save the rinds, anyway. Might need ’em. Never can tell what might happen at sea, y’know,”” he said owlishly.
“Sure,” Fairchild agreed. “Might need ’em in a pinch to prevent constipation.” Mrs. Maurier clasped Mr. Talliaferro’s arm again.
“Mr. Talliaferro!”? she whispered imploringly. Mr. Talliaferro sprang to the breach.
“Now that we are all together at last,” he began, clearing his throat, “the Commodore wishes us to choose our first port of call. In other words, people, where shall we go to-morrow?” He looked from face to face about the table.
“Why, nowhere,” answered Fairchild with surprise. “We just came from somewhere yesterday, didn’t we?”
“You mean to-day,” Mrs. Wiseman told him. “We left New Orleans this morning.”
