There's no trick to ut." "Don't be jealous, Galway." The released lead plopped into the sea far ahead as the schooner surged slowly forward.
"Soundin' is a trick, though," said Dan, "when your dipsey lead's all the eye you're like to hev for a week.

What d'you make it, Dad ?" Disko's face relaxed.

His skill and honour were involved in the march he had stolen on the rest of the Fleet, and he had his reputation as a master artist who knew the Banks blindfold.

"Sixty, mebbe--ef I'm any judge," he replied, with a glance at the tiny compass in the window of the house.
"Sixty," sung out Tom Platt, hauling in great wet coils.
The schooner gathered way once more.

"Heave!" said Disko, after a quarter of an hour.
"What d'you make it ?" Dan whispered, and he looked at Harvey proudly.
But Harvey was too proud of his own performances to be impressed just then.
"Fifty," said the father.