His arms like knotted oak in cords of strain.
He slowly shook his head
And to the Chief he said,
"If all break ship, we'll not see Earth again."
"I know—" began McNeer,
But Bill roared out, "Stand clear!"
His arms upon the wheel were like a vise.
"Break ship and wait outside,
I'll make this baby ride!
I'll hold 'er till the devil skates on ice!"