“You’d better sign it ‘B. A.,’ meaning blooming ass,” replied Hal. “Here! What are you doing? Trying to upset us?”
“No, sir, I was swinging her around. She—er—swung a trifle abruptly, so to speak.”
“She certainly did,” grumbled Hal. “That wave went all the way down my back. Ugh!”
“I’m sorry, old Hal, but the Coarse Hair is inclined to be a bit kittenish today. She’s feeling her oats—I mean her gasoline.”
“By Jove!” exclaimed Hal. “I wonder—”
“What?” asked Jack as the other paused.
“How much she’s got.”
“How much what? Gasoline?”
“Yes. She didn’t have very much yesterday. I—I guess I’d better look and see.”
He made for the bow, but Bee was already unscrewing the cap in the deck. “Find the stick underneath there, Hal.”