"Lots of nothing?" inquired the Bo'sun patiently. "Why?"
"Why, to see who eats the other," was the reply.
"We have only one more meal for you and me and none for the crew, so we must Cast Lots, and the one who wins is eaten by the rest—unless of course anybody is decent enough to offer himself."
"A lot of himself?" asked the Bo'sun, and added, "Perhaps the Crew would," as he turned and patted the Crew's head.
Venus was the Crew, and was understood to decline to play the rôle of Universal Provider in addition. Certainly he shook his head violently when invited to have his throat cut.
"Anyhow," said the Captain, "we can Cast the Lot on him, so he might just as well have been a sport and died to save us, with a smile."
"How could he save us with a smile?" inquired the Bo'sun.
"You've been drinking salt water, my lad," was the unkind reply. "I told you you'd go mad if you did that."
