"Both of 'em? M-m"--Johnnie was taking deep breaths now--"why, then I'd have to put sail to her----" "What sail?" "Why, jib, jumbo, fore and main." "And the wind blowing eighty mile an hour?" "Why, yes, if she'd stand it." "My, but she'd have to be an able vessel that--all four lowers and the wind blowing eighty mile an hour. Man, but you're a dog! Suppose she couldn't stand it?" "Then I'd reef the mains'l." "And if that was too much--what then?" "Reef it again." "And too much yet?" "Balance-reef it--maybe take it in altogether--and the jib with it, and get out the riding-sail." "And would you do nothing to the fores'l?" "M-m--I dunno--with some vessels maybe I'd reef that, too--maybe take it in altogether." "My, but you're cert'nly a dog. And what then?" "Why, then I'd try to work her out." "And would you be doing anything with the lead?" "Oh, we'd be keeping the lead going all the time, for banging her across and back like that you wouldn't know where you were just." "And would you come clear, d'y' think?" "Yes, sir--if the gear held and with an able vessel we ought to." "If the gear held--that's it. Be sure, Johnnie-boy, you see that the gear is all right before ever you leave port. And with an able vessel, you say? With that new one of your gran'pa's--would you come clear with her?" "Oh, she'd come clear--built to go fresh halibuting next winter, that one." "Yes--and seining this spring. But suppose now you were haddocking--trawling--eight or ten dories, and you just arrived on the grounds, picked out a good spot, and there you are--you're all baited up and ready?" "Winter time?" "Winter time, yes." "First I'd single-reef the mains'l. Then I'd hold her up a little--not too much--me being skipper would be to the wheel myself--and then I'd give the order, 'Dories to the rail!' and then, when everything was all right--when I'd be satisfied we wouldn't foul the next vessel's trawls--I'd call out, 'Over with your wind'ard dory!'" "Loud and clear you'd holler, because the wind might be high." "Loud and clear, yes--'Let go your wind'ard dory!'--like that. And 'Set to the west'ard,' or the east'ard, whatever it was--according to the tide, you know. I'd call that out to the dory as it went sliding by the quarter--the vessel, of course, 'd be sailing all the time--and next, 'Wind'ard dory to the rail!' And then, when we'd gone ahead enough, again, 'Let go your looard dory!' and then, 'Looard dory to the rail! Let go your wind'ard dory! Let go your looard dory!' and so till they were all over the side." "And supposing, they being all out, it came on thick, or snowing, and some of them went astray, and it was time to go home, having filled her with eighty or ninety or a hundred thousand of fresh fish, a fair wind, and every prospect of a good market--what then?" "Oh, I'd have to wait, of course--cruise around and stand by." "And suppose you couldn't find them again?"