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Updated: June 1, 2025
Captain Dinshaw went into the cabin, and looking down, Trask could see him bent over the table, sucking a stub of a pencil and studying a sheet of paper. "What's the bearin' and distance of Point Luzon?" he called up the companion. Jarrow looked at Locke and smiled. "Northwest, five miles," called Jarrow, after a look at the compass and the land. "What course ye steerin'?" "Nor'wes'bywes'."
"Did you hear the long man speak after that, Vince?" "Yes, mars'r. I heerd de long man tell Mars Dennis dat if he didn't steer de boat an' shet his mouf, he'd shoot him. I heerd de pistol go off, but Mars Dennis wasn't killed, fur I saw him steerin' afterwards." "Thank God!" spoke the sailor, kissing the child. "Ellenory's boy was innocent, by smoke!
In particular, Muggins who was becoming fatigued, owing partly to the weight of his club as well as to the weight of his body and the shortness of his legs at last broke out on him and declared that he would follow no further. "Why," said he gruffly, "it's as plain as the nose on yer nutmeg face, that ye're steerin' a wrong coorse. You'll never make the coast on this tack."
"For marcy's sake, lad, lay hold on the steerin' oar. Try to tack round, or we're lost one an' all o' us!"
To reach Magellan we'd hev to work out seaward ag'in, an' back past the `Furies, whar thar's all sorts o' cross-currents to contend wi'. Whereas goin' east'ard through the Beagle, we'll hev both wind and tide a'most allers in our favour. 'Sides, there'd be no bother 'bout the coorse. 'Tair jest like steerin' in a river, an' along the coast ag'in. I'm wall acquaint' wi' every inch o' 't."
Steve's eyes were like bits of polished steel, so bright they were. It was a struggle for him to take them, even for a moment, from the engine before him. "I cal'late I kin," he quavered. "Well, thin, we'll see." McLean looked up and winked at the engineer in the diminutive cab. "It's car-reful you'll be, Misther engineer," he cautioned, "an' watch your steerin' on the cur-rves!"
Miss Sally, it was this-a-way, simlike: that ole man writtend Mist' Madeira he wuz goin' to die an' he tol' Mist' Madeira to give the hills to Mist' Steerin'. But I don't reckon your father believed ole Grierson, Miss Sally." The girl on the bench under the crab-apple tree was beginning to draw herself up proudly. "There is some mistake somewhere, I can see that, Piney, dear.
But it worked. After that she snuggled in her own corner, and when we lands at the house she's treatin' me with cold disdain, almost as if I'd been a reg'lar brother. There's no knowin', either, what report Marjorie got. Must have been something interestin', for when she finally comes down after steerin' Miss Buell to her room, she gives me the knowin' wink. Ella May gets even, though.
Bruce got to his feet, too. When he caught Piney's flaming eye at last, they stood and faced each other a great moment, then Bruce put his hand out. "Piney," he said, "I wish I were half the man that you are." "Oh, Mist' Steerin'! Mist' Steerin'!" On Bruce's shoulder, he sobbed like a child until the terrific strain that he had been on for hours slackened, and he could talk again.
"You little idiot," he said, "when your Uncle Jack's brains get ossified, just give the sad news to the press. You're jest itchin' to get in a muss and get plugged. I ain't. I figure to ride down the Moonstone Trail, steerin' the Guzzuh with one hand and smellin' a bunch of roses in the other. Watch my smoke. Now, beat it!" Louise, coming blithely from the living-room, nodded to Overland.
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