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.

"I mistrust we're right over the nick o' Green Bank on old Sixty-Fifty." "Fifty!" roared Tom Platt.

They could scarcely see him through the fog.
"She's bu'st within a yard--like the shells at Fort Macon." "Bait up, Harve," said Dan, diving for a line on the reel.
The schooner seemed to be straying promiscuously through the smother, her head-sail banging wildly.