"She's a-comin'!" gasped some one, and with a last great effort they got the sail on the yard.
"I'll sit down on the footrope, whilst you swing the gasket to me," Jack called to the cowpuncher, leaning over and putting his lips close to the other's ear.
"I surmise as how a diamond-hitch ain't needful in these heavenly regions," grunted Broncho to himself as he passed the gasket.
"Don't haul on it with both hands," suddenly cried the rover from the footrope below him. "Keep fast hold of the jackstay with one hand. Never trust a gasket, or one day you'll take a header to the deck."
"You can bet your moccasins I'll be a heap regyardful of what you-alls advises. I'm none anxious to come flutterin' from my perch that-away," observed Broncho, as he took Jack's advice.
Hardly was the main course fast before the wind shifted suddenly into the west-south-west, and began to blow harder than ever.
The men were trooping off to man the fore and mizzen upper-topsail spilling-lines, and Black Davis and the bosun were at the halliards; but as the wind came astern, the old man thundered out:
"Hold all fast there! Weather crojjick brace!"
"Weather crojjick brace!" echoed the mate. "Let go o' that gear!" and he crossed the deck to slack away the lee braces.
As the helm was put up and the ship went off, a heavy westerly sea came up on each quarter, and soon converted the maindeck into a raging flood, which made squaring the yards no child's play.