Not another sign of the wreck was seen by the schooner.
The castaways filled the little schooner to overflowing, hindering her management, and getting in the way at every step.

The pilot crew hustled them about without ceremony, and after dinner one had to intervene to prevent a fight between one of them and a sailor from the _Mazatlan_ over the question of a broken pipe.

The women of the _Mazatlan_ kept in their berths continually, rolled in hot blankets, dosed with steaming whisky punches.

In the afternoon, however, Vandover saw two of them in the lee of the house attempting to dry their hair; one of them was the woman he had particularly noticed in the lifeboat clad in a night-dress, and he wondered vaguely where the dress had come from she now was wearing.
About three o'clock of the afternoon of the following day Vandover was sitting on the deck near the stern, fastening on his shoes with a length of tarred rope, the laces which he had left trailing having long before broken and pulled out.

By that time the wind was blowing squally out of the northeast.