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Updated: May 27, 2025
Ray was able to turn about and get his feet in front of him; Yetsko had to crawl on until he had passed it, and then back into it after Ray had entered. Bracing one foot on either side, Ray inched his way down the forty-degree slope, hoping that the two hundred pound weight of Doug Yetsko wouldn't start sliding upon him. Ahead, he could hear voices.
He would have lent him his eyes if he could have found that coal-field the sooner. The turtle crawled slowly up, its head thrust out inquiringly, inched along the margin of the map, and backed carefully down again, pausing for such running commentaries as "Dis yer's de ribber;" "Dat's de road;" "Dis de ma'sh."
She'd never see us in a thousand years, and if she did she couldn't do us any good. Forget her!" The schooner inched her way imperceptibly under the horizon. The boys had eaten nothing for twenty-four hours; excitement had prevented them from feeling hungry. Now they came to a realization that they had stomachs, and they finished half the hard bread remaining in the bag.
Her chair inched steadily along the dull carpet, and once or twice she brought up just as she was about to make a gradual exit from the room. "They act so queer lately." She hitched the chair into place again. Edith had gone out. It was her idea of an evening call to serve cakes and coffee, and a strong and acrid odor was seeping through the doorway.
The chronometer in the suit was not working. But it seemed as if many hours had passed when he felt a faint shock pass through the hull beneath him. He felt a momentary elation. The ships had separated. The search for him if any had been abandoned. Slowly he inched his way around the hull to get a glimpse of the black ship. It was still there, standing off a few hundred yards but not moving.
It had laid a cold hand on him in the person of an officer of the law, it had inched him on further when a magistrate had examined him and Chatwourth and his jumpers had testified; and now, as he awaited his day in court, he wondered whither it was taking him. The magistrate had held him, the grand jury had indicted him would the judge and jury find him guilty?
"Do you suppose it's Miles and Brett?" "It isn't moving," commented Astro. "Well, since we're here we might as well find out as much as we can," Tom decided. "Let's go." The two cadets flattened themselves against the side of the shaft and inched forward.
It inched along on its stomach, its black head seeming round and minus a face, its body broad but flat a thing that looked to be a man but not a man. Then, pausing, it raised its head and peered toward the hammock of Knowlton. With that movement Tim's doubts vanished. The lifting of the head showed the face the face of Francisco, the face of murder. In its teeth was clamped a bare knife.
"Don't be stuffy any longer, Cap'n," he pleaded. "We've gone fur enough. I give up. You are deep-water, all right!" Cap'n Sproul made no reply. Suddenly catching a moment that seemed favorable, he lashed the wheel, and with mighty puffing and grunting "inched" in the main-sheet. "She ought to have a double reef," he muttered. "But them petrified sons of secos couldn't take in a week's wash."
The lounge was plunged in profound darkness. Chords from the organ were reverberating faintly. Captain Nemo was there. He didn't see me. Even in broad daylight I doubt that he would have noticed me, so completely was he immersed in his trance. I inched over the carpet, avoiding the tiniest bump whose noise might give me away.
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