t
with many of the party.

"We're a rough lot, and would need tight handlin'," whispered the little
man named Redding to Joe Binney, who sat on a bank beside him.

"The handlin' will be tight enough before long," returned Joe, with a
decided little nod. "Listen, the worst o' the lot's agoin' to spout."

This last remark had reference to Malines, who had just risen to reply
to a fiery little man named Buxley, a tailor by trade, who was possessed
not only of good reasoning power but great animal courage, as he had
proved on more than one occasion on the voyage out.

"Friends," said the mate, "it's all very well for Buxley to talk about
fair play, and equal rights, etcetera, but, I ask, would it be fair play
to give each of us an equal portion of land, when it's quite clear that
some--like Joe Binney there--could cultivate twice as much as his share,
while a creature like Buxley--"

"No more a creature than yourself!" shouted the little tailor.

"Could only work up half his lot--if even so much," continued the mate,
regardless of the interruption.

"Hear, hear!" from those who sympathised with Malines.

"An' what could _you_ do with land?" demanded Buxley in a tone of scorn,
"a man that's ploughed nothing but salt water all his life."

This was greeted with a laugh and "That's so." "He's only sowed wild
oats as yet." "Pitch into him, Buckie."

Malines was fast losing temper under the little man's caustic remarks,
but succeeded in restraining himself, and went on:--

"It's quite plain that the island is too small to let every man have an
equal bit of land, so I propose that it should be divided among those
who have strength and knowledge to work it, and--"

"_You_ ain't one o' them," shouted the irate tailor.

"Come, come, Buxley--let him speak," said Joe Binney, "fair play, ye
know. That's what you sticks up for, ain't it? Let 'im speak."

"Anyhow," continued Malines, sharply, "_I_ mean to keep the bit o'
ground I've staked off whether you like it or no--"

"An' so do I," cried Welsh, who was what may be styled a growly man.

"Sure, an' so does myself," said Teddy Malone, "for I've staked off a
bit about six feet long an' two broad, to plant mesilf in whin I give up
the ghost."

This mild pleasantry seemed to calm a little the rising wrath of
contending parties, much to Dominick's satisfaction, for he was
exceedingly anxious to keep in the background and avoid interference.
During the week that had