"A cattle stampede is low down an' ornery compared to this here fatiguin' disturbance," returned Broncho in disgust.
"It bogs down as plumb dull an' no account before this impulsive whirlwind, which I states emphatic is a whole team an' jest raises Almighty discord from the heavenly vaults to the bottomless pit as easy as winnin' a Jack-pot with four aces."
"Douse that glim," growled a voice, and soon the foc's'le resounded with the deep, heavy breathing of tired men asleep in a foul atmosphere.
CHAPTER XII
"A CALL FOR NERVE"
At midnight it was Jack's wheel and Broncho's look-out.
"How's she steering?" asked Jack, as he took the wheel from Hank.
"Oh, not so dusty. They've got the relievin' tackles rigged, an' she only wants watching. Ain't yew got no lee-wheel with yew, though?"
"No, I guess I can manage."