"Keep one turn round the
bitt, and heave in on it when the painter slacks."
It was ticklish work for a greenhorn. Joe threw off all the turns save
the last, which he held with one hand, while with the other he attempted
to bring in on the painter. But at that instant it tightened with a
tremendous jerk, the boat sheering sharply into the crest of a heavy
sea. The rope slipped from his hands and began to fly out over the stern.
He clutched it frantically, and was dragged after it over the sloping deck.
"Let her go! Let her go!" 'Frisco Kid shouted.
Joe let go just as he was on the verge of going overboard, and the skiff
dropped rapidly astern. He glanced in a shamefaced way at his companion,
expecting to be sharply reprimanded for his awkwardness. But 'Frisco Kid
smiled good-naturedly.
"That 's all right," he said. "No bones broke and nobody overboard.
Better to lose a boat than a man any day; that 's what I say. Besides,
I should n't have sent you out there. And there 's no harm done. We can
pick it up all right. Go in and drop some more centerboard,--a couple of
feet,--and then come out and do what I tell you. But don't be in a hurry.
Take it easy and sure."
Joe dropped the centerboard and returned, to be stationed at the jib-sheet.
"Hard a-lee!" 'Frisco Kid cried, throwing the tiller down, and following
it with his body.
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