aft and stood beside
Mr. McGuffey, the while he looked aloft and thrilled to the whine of
the breeze through the rigging. "This is sailorizin'," he declared.
"It sure beats bumboatin'. Here, blast you, Bart. You're spillin'
the wind out o' that jib. First thing you know we'll have her in
irons an' then the fat _will_ be in the fire."

He took the wheel from McGuffey. When he was two miles off the
beach he brought her up into the wind and made the wheel fast, a
spoke to leeward. "Sheet home the fore-to'-gallan'-s'l," he
howled and dashed forward. "Leggo them buntlines an' clewlines,
my hearties, an' haul home that sheet."

The ship lay in the wind, shivering. Mr. Gibney was here, there,
everywhere. One minute he was dashing along the deck with a
leading line, the next he was laying out aloft. He ordered
himself to do a thing and then, with the pent-up energy of a
thousand devils, he did it. The years of degradation as
navigating officer of the _Maggie_ fell away from him, as he
sprang, agile and half-naked, into the shrouds; a great, hairy
demi-god or sea-goblin he lay out along the yards and sprang from
place to place with the old exultant thrill of youth and joy in
his work.

"Overhaul them buntlines an' clewlines," he bawled to an
imaginary crew. "Set that main-royal." With McGuffey's help the
sheets came home, the halyards were taken to, the yards
mast-headed, and the halyards belayed to their pin. The
main-royal was now set so they fell to on the fore-royal. A word,
a gesture, from Mr. Gibney, and McGuffey would pounce on a rope
like a bull-dog. With the fore-royal set, Mr. Gibney ran back to
the wheel and put it hard over. There being no after sail set the
bark swung off readily on to her course, slipping through the
water at a nice eight-knot speed. Ten miles off the coast, Mr.
Gibney hung her up in the wind again, braced his yards with the
aid of the winch and McGuffey, came about and headed north. At
three o'clock she cleared the lightship and wore around to come
in over the bar, steering east by south, half-south, for Point
Bonita. She drew the full advantage of the wind now and over the
bar she came, ramping full through the Gate with her yards
squared, on the last of the flood tide.

As they passed Lime Point, Mr. Gibney prepared to shorten sail
and like a clarion blast his voice rang through the ship.

"Clew up them royals." He lashed the wheel and they brought the
clewlines again to the winch head.