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diff --git a/11051-h/11051-h.htm b/11051-h/11051-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c078849 --- /dev/null +++ b/11051-h/11051-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4705 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1"> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Cruise of the Dazzler, by Jack London.</title> +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + * {font-family: Times, serif; background: FFFFFF;} + p {font-size: 14pt; line-height: 1.2; text-indent: 1em; text-align: justify; margin-top: .75em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + p.sig1 {text-align: right;} + p.sig2 {font-family: "Comic Sans MS", cursive; font-style: italic; text-align: right; font-size: 18pt;} + p.toc {text-align: left;} + p.img {text-align: center;} + p.bq {text-align: justify; padding-left: 15%; padding-right: 15%;} + p.bq-h {text-indent: 0; text-align: center; padding-left: 15%; padding-right: 15%;} + p.bq-sig {text-indent: 0; text-align: right; padding-left: 15%; padding-right: 15%;} + p.title1 {font-size: 36pt; font-weight: 900; text-indent: 0; text-align: center; word-spacing: .5em;} + p.title2 {font-size: 24pt; font-weight: 900; text-indent: 0; text-align: center; word-spacing: .5em;} + p.title3 {font-size: 14pt; font-weight: 900; text-indent: 0; text-align: center; word-spacing: .5em;} + p.chapter-head {font-size: 20pt; font-weight: 900; text-indent: 0; text-align: center; word-spacing: 1em;} + p.chapter-sub {font-size: 16pt; font-weight: 900; text-indent: 0; text-align: center;} + span.i {font-style: italic; font-weight: 600;} + span.center {text-align: center;} + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 {text-align: center;} + HR.large {width: 50%} + HR.medium {width: 35%} + HR.small {width: 20%} + a:link {color: rgb(0,0,153); text-decoration:none;} + a:visited {color: rgb(0,0,153); text-decoration:none;} + a:hover {color: rgb(0,153,0); text-decoration:none;} + // --> +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Cruise of the Dazzler, by Jack London + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Cruise of the Dazzler + +Author: Jack London + +Release Date: February 12, 2004 [EBook #11051] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRUISE OF THE DAZZLER *** + + + + +Produced by Justin Gillbank and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + + +<HR class="large"> + +<p class="img"> +<img width="366" height="580" src="TCotD01.png" id="TCotD01.png" + title='The Cruse of the Dazzler, Jack London.' + alt="Cover of book; Two ships on choppy water with a man hanging from a mainsail."> +</p> + +<p class="title1">The Cruise of The Dazzler</p> + +<p class="title3">by</p> + +<p class="title2">Jack London</p> + +<p class="title3">1902</p> + +<HR class="large"> + +<br><br> + +<p class="chapter-head">FOREWORD</p> + +<br> + +<p>Tempting boys to be what they should be—giving them in wholesome form +what they want—that is the purpose and power of Scouting. To help parents +and leaders of youth secure <span class="i">books boys like best</span> that are also best for +boys, the Boy Scouts of America organized EVERY BOY'S LIBRARY. The books +included, formerly sold at prices ranging from $1.50 to $2.00 but, by +special arrangement with the several publishers interested, are now sold +in the EVERY BOY'S LIBRARY Edition at $1.00 per volume.</p> + +<p>The books of EVERY BOY'S LIBRARY were selected by the Library Commission +of the Boy Scouts of America, consisting of George F. Bowerman, Librarian, +Public Library of the District of Columbia; Harrison W. Craver, Director, +Engineering Societies Library, New York City; Claude G. Leland, +Superintendent, Bureau of Libraries, Board of Education, New York City; +Edward F. Stevens, Librarian, Pratt Institute Free Library, Brooklyn, N.Y., +and Franklin K. Mathiews, Chief Scout Librarian. Only such books were +chosen by the Commission as proved to be, by <span class="i">a nation wide canvas</span>, most +in demand by the boys themselves. Their popularity is further attested by +the fact that in the EVERY BOY'S LIBRARY Edition, more than a million and +a quarter copies of these books have already been sold.</p> + +<p>We know so well, are reminded so often of the worth of the good book and +great, that too often we fail to observe or understand the influence for +good of a boy's recreational reading. Such books may influence him for +good or ill as profoundly as his play activities, of which they are a +vital part. The needful thing is to find stories in which the heroes have +the characteristics boys so much admire—unquenchable courage, immense +resourcefulness, absolute fidelity, conspicuous greatness. We believe the +books of EVERY BOY'S LIBRARY measurably well meet this challenge.</p> + +<p class="sig1">BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA,</p> + +<p class="sig2">James E. West</p> + +<p class="sig1">Chief Scout Executive.</p> + +<HR class="medium"> + +<p class="chapter-head">CONTENTS</p> + +<p class="toc"><a href="#Chapter_I"> I — BROTHER AND SISTER</a></p> + +<p class="toc"><a href="#Chapter_II"> II — "THE DRACONIAN REFORMS"</a></p> + +<p class="toc"><a href="#Chapter_III"> III — "BRICK," "SORREL-TOP," AND "REDDY"</a></p> + +<p class="toc"><a href="#Chapter_IV"> IV — THE BITER BITTEN</a></p> + +<p class="toc"><a href="#Chapter_V"> V — HOME AGAIN</a></p> + +<p class="toc"><a href="#Chapter_VI"> VI — EXAMINATION DAY</a></p> + +<p class="toc"><a href="#Chapter_VII"> VII — FATHER AND SON</a></p> + +<p class="toc"><a href="#Chapter_VIII"> VIII — 'FRISCO KID AND THE NEW BOY</a></p> + +<p class="toc"><a href="#Chapter_IX"> IX — ABOARD THE DAZZLER</a></p> + +<p class="toc"><a href="#Chapter_X"> X — WITH THE BAY PIRATES</a></p> + +<p class="toc"><a href="#Chapter_XI"> XI — CAPTAIN AND CREW</a></p> + +<p class="toc"><a href="#Chapter_XII"> XII — JOE TRIES TO TAKE FRENCH LEAVE</a></p> + +<p class="toc"><a href="#Chapter_XIII"> XIII — BEFRIENDING EACH OTHER</a></p> + +<p class="toc"><a href="#Chapter_XIV"> XIV — AMONG THE OYSTER-BEDS</a></p> + +<p class="toc"><a href="#Chapter_XV"> XV — GOOD SAILORS IN A WILD ANCHORAGE</a></p> + +<p class="toc"><a href="#Chapter_XVI"> XVI — 'FRISCO KID'S DITTY-BOX</a></p> + +<p class="toc"><a href="#Chapter_XVII"> XVII — 'FRISCO KID TELLS HIS STORY</a></p> + +<p class="toc"><a href="#Chapter_XVIII"> XVIII — A NEW RESPONSIBILITY FOR JOE</a></p> + +<p class="toc"><a href="#Chapter_XIX"> XIX — THE BOYS PLAN AN ESCAPE</a></p> + +<p class="toc"><a href="#Chapter_XX"> XX — PERILOUS HOURS</a></p> + +<p class="toc"><a href="#Chapter_XXI"> XXI — JOE AND HIS FATHER</a></p> + +<HR class="small"> + +<p class="chapter-head">LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</p> + +<p><a href="#TCotD02.png">Joe eats his first meal on the "Dazzler".</a></p> + +<p><a href="#TCotD03.png">They sat side by side in the shelter of the cockpit.</a></p> + +<p><a href="#TCotD04.png">'Frisco Kid instantly named it as the "Reindeer".</a></p> + +<p><a href="#TCotD05.png">"Does she look like this?" he asked, turning it that the other might see.</a></p> + +<p><a href="#TCotD06.png">Pete luffed straight into it, and the "Dazzler" mounted the steep slope +with a rush.</a></p> + +<p><a href="#TCotD07.png">Pete clung on, working inboard every time he emerged, till he dropped into +the cockpit.</a></p> + +<HR class="medium"> + +<p class="chapter-head">PART I</p> + +<HR class="small"> + +<p class="chapter-head" id="Chapter_I">CHAPTER I</p> + +<p class="chapter-sub">BROTHER AND SISTER</p> + +<p>They ran across the shining sand, the Pacific thundering its long surge +at their backs, and when they gained the roadway leaped upon bicycles and +dived at faster pace into the green avenues of the park. There were three +of them, three boys, in as many bright-colored sweaters, and they +"scorched" along the cycle-path as dangerously near the speed-limit as is +the custom of boys in bright-colored sweaters to go. They may have exceeded +the speed-limit. A mounted park policeman thought so, but was not sure, +and contented himself with cautioning them as they flashed by. They +acknowledged the warning promptly, and on the next turn of the path as +promptly forgot it, which is also a custom of boys in bright-colored +sweaters.</p> + +<p>Shooting out through the entrance to Golden Gate Park, they turned into +San Francisco, and took the long sweep of the descending hills at a rate +that caused pedestrians to turn and watch them anxiously. Through the +city streets the bright sweaters flew, turning and twisting to escape +climbing the steeper hills, and, when the steep hills were unavoidable, +doing stunts to see which would first gain the top.</p> + +<p>The boy who more often hit up the pace, led the scorching, and instituted +the stunts was called Joe by his companions. It was "follow the leader," +and he led, the merriest and boldest in the bunch. But as they pedaled +into the Western Addition, among the large and comfortable residences, +his laughter became less loud and frequent, and he unconsciously lagged +in the rear. At Laguna and Vallejo streets his companions turned off to +the right.</p> + +<p>"So long, Fred," he called as he turned his wheel to the left. "So long, +Charley."</p> + +<p>"See you to-night!" they called back.</p> + +<p>"No—I can't come," he answered.</p> + +<p>"Aw, come on," they begged.</p> + +<p>"No, I've got to dig.—So long!"</p> + +<p>As he went on alone, his face grew grave and a vague worry came into his +eyes. He began resolutely to whistle, but this dwindled away till it was +a thin and very subdued little sound, which ceased altogether as he rode +up the driveway to a large two-storied house.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Joe!"</p> + +<p>He hesitated before the door to the library. Bessie was there, he knew, +studiously working up her lessons. She must be nearly through with them, +too, for she was always done before dinner, and dinner could not be many +minutes away. As for his lessons, they were as yet untouched. The thought +made him angry. It was bad enough to have one's sister—and two years +younger at that—in the same grade, but to have her continually head and +shoulders above him in scholarship was a most intolerable thing. Not that +he was dull. No one knew better than himself that he was not dull. But +somehow—he did not quite know how—his mind was on other things and he +was usually unprepared.</p> + +<p>"Joe—please come here." There was the slightest possible plaintive note +in her voice this time.</p> + +<p>"Well?" he said, thrusting aside the portière with an impetuous movement.</p> + +<p>He said it gruffly, but he was half sorry for it the next instant when he +saw a slender little girl regarding him with wistful eyes across the big +reading-table heaped with books. She was curled up, with pencil and pad, +in an easy-chair of such generous dimensions that it made her seem more +delicate and fragile than she really was.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Sis?" he asked more gently, crossing over to her side.</p> + +<p>She took his hand in hers and pressed it against her cheek, and as he +stood beside her came closer to him with a nestling movement.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter, Joe dear?" she asked softly. "Won't you tell me?"</p> + +<p>He remained silent. It struck him as ridiculous to confess his troubles +to a little sister, even if her reports <span class="i">were</span> higher than his. And the +little sister struck him as ridiculous to demand his troubles of him. +"What a soft cheek she has!" he thought as she pressed her face gently +against his hand. If he could but tear himself away—it was all so +foolish! Only he might hurt her feelings, and, in his experience, girls' +feelings were very easily hurt.</p> + +<p>She opened his fingers and kissed the palm of his hand. It was like a +rose-leaf falling; it was also her way of asking her question over again.</p> + +<p>"Nothing 's the matter," he said decisively. And then, quite +inconsistently, he blurted out, "Father!"</p> + +<p>His worry was now in her eyes. "But father is so good and kind, Joe," she +began. "Why don't you try to please him? He does n't ask much of you, and +it 's all for your own good. It 's not as though you were a fool, like some +boys. If you would only study a little bit—"</p> + +<p>"That 's it! Lecturing!" he exploded, tearing his hand roughly away. "Even +you are beginning to lecture me now. I suppose the cook and the stable-boy +will be at it next."</p> + +<p>He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked forward into a melancholy +and desolate future filled with interminable lectures and lecturers +innumerable.</p> + +<p>"Was that what you wanted me for?" he demanded, turning to go.</p> + +<p>She caught at his hand again. "No, it wasn't; only you looked so worried +that I thought—I—" Her voice broke, and she began again freshly. "What +I wanted to tell you was that we're planning a trip across the bay to +Oakland, next Saturday, for a tramp in the hills."</p> + +<p>"Who 's going?"</p> + +<p>"Myrtle Hayes—"</p> + +<p>"What! That little softy?" he interrupted.</p> + +<p>"I don't think she is a softy," Bessie answered with spirit. "She 's one +of the sweetest girls I know."</p> + +<p>"Which is n't saying much, considering the girls you know. But go on. Who +are the others?"</p> + +<p>"Pearl Sayther, and her sister Alice, and Jessie Hilborn, and Sadie French, +and Edna Crothers. That 's all the girls."</p> + +<p>Joe sniffed disdainfully. "Who are the fellows, then?"</p> + +<p>"Maurice and Felix Clement, Dick Schofield, Burt Layton, and—"</p> + +<p>"That 's enough. Milk-and-water chaps, all of them."</p> + +<p>"I—I wanted to ask you and Fred and Charley," she said in a quavering +voice. "That 's what I called you in for—to ask you to come."</p> + +<p>"And what are you going to do?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Walk, gather wild flowers,—the poppies are all out now,—eat luncheon +at some nice place, and—and—"</p> + +<p>"Come home," he finished for her.</p> + +<p>Bessie nodded her head. Joe put his hands in his pockets again, and +walked up and down.</p> + +<p>"A sissy outfit, that 's what it is," he said abruptly; "and a sissy +program. None of it in mine, please."</p> + +<p>She tightened her trembling lips and struggled on bravely. "What would +you rather do?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I 'd sooner take Fred and Charley and go off somewhere and do +something—well, anything."</p> + +<p>He paused and looked at her. She was waiting patiently for him to proceed. +He was aware of his inability to express in words what he felt and wanted, +and all his trouble and general dissatisfaction rose up and gripped hold +of him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you can't understand!" he burst out. "You can't understand. You 're +a girl. You like to be prim and neat, and to be good in deportment and +ahead in your studies. You don't care for danger and adventure and such +things, and you don't care for boys who are rough, and have life and go +in them, and all that. You like good little boys in white collars, with +clothes always clean and hair always combed, who like to stay in at +recess and be petted by the teacher and told how they're always up in +their studies; nice little boys who never get into scrapes—who are too +busy walking around and picking flowers and eating lunches with girls, +to get into scrapes. Oh, I know the kind—afraid of their own shadows, +and no more spunk in them than in so many sheep. That 's what they +are—sheep. Well, I 'm not a sheep, and there 's no more to be said. +And I don't want to go on your picnic, and, what 's more, I 'm not going."</p> + +<p>The tears welled up in Bessie's brown eyes, and her lips were trembling. +This angered him unreasonably. What were girls good for, anyway?—always +blubbering, and interfering, and carrying on. There was no sense in them.</p> + +<p>"A fellow can't say anything without making you cry," he began, trying to +appease her. "Why, I did n't mean anything, Sis. I did n't, sure. I—"</p> + +<p>He paused helplessly and looked down at her. She was sobbing, and at the +same time shaking with the effort to control her sobs, while big tears +were rolling down her cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you—you girls!" he cried, and strode wrathfully out of the room.</p> + +<HR class="medium"> + +<p class="chapter-head" id="Chapter_II">CHAPTER II</p> + +<p class="chapter-sub">"THE DRACONIAN REFORMS"</p> + +<p>A few minutes later, and still wrathful, Joe went in to dinner. He ate +silently, though his father and mother and Bessie kept up a genial flow +of conversation. There she was, he communed savagely with his plate, +crying one minute, and the next all smiles and laughter. Now that was +n't his way. If <span class="i">he</span> had anything sufficiently important to cry about, +rest assured he would n't get over it for days. Girls were hypocrites, +that was all there was to it. They did n't feel one hundredth part of all +that they said when they cried. It stood to reason that they did n't. It +must be that they just carried on because they enjoyed it. It made them +feel good to make other people miserable, especially boys. That was why +they were always interfering.</p> + +<p>Thus reflecting sagely, he kept his eyes on his plate and did justice +to the fare; for one cannot scorch from the Cliff House to the Western +Addition via the park without being guilty of a healthy appetite.</p> + +<p>Now and then his father directed a glance at him in a certain mildly +anxious way. Joe did not see these glances, but Bessie saw them, every +one. Mr. Bronson was a middle-aged man, well developed and of heavy +build, though not fat. His was a rugged face, square-jawed and +stern-featured, though his eyes were kindly and there were lines about +the mouth that betokened laughter rather than severity. A close +examination was not required to discover the resemblance between him +and Joe. The same broad forehead and strong jaw characterized them both, +and the eyes, taking into consideration the difference of age, were as +like as peas from one pod.</p> + +<p>"How are you getting on, Joe?" Mr. Bronson asked finally. Dinner was +over and they were about to leave the table.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know," Joe answered carelessly, and then added: "We have +examinations to-morrow. I'll know then."</p> + +<p>"Whither bound?" his mother questioned, as he turned to leave the room. +She was a slender, willowy woman, whose brown eyes Bessie's were, and +likewise her tender ways.</p> + +<p>"To my room," Joe answered. "To work," he supplemented.</p> + +<p>She rumpled his hair affectionately, and bent and kissed him. Mr. Bronson +smiled approval at him as he went out, and he hurried up the stairs, +resolved to dig hard and pass the examinations of the coming day.</p> + +<p>Entering his room, he locked the door and sat down at a desk most +comfortably arranged for a boy's study. He ran his eye over his +text-books. The history examination came the first thing in the morning, +so he would begin on that. He opened the book where a page was turned +down, and began to read:</p> + + <p class="bq">Shortly after the Draconian reforms, a war + broke out between Athens and Megara respecting + the island of Salamis, to which both cities + laid claim.</p> + +<p>That was easy; but what were the Draconian reforms? He must look them up. +He felt quite studious as he ran over the back pages, till he chanced to +raise his eyes above the top of the book and saw on a chair a baseball +mask and a catcher's glove. They should n't have lost that game last +Saturday, he thought, and they would n't have, either, if it had n't been +for Fred. He wished Fred would n't fumble so. He could hold a hundred +difficult balls in succession, but when a critical point came, he 'd let +go of even a dewdrop. He 'd have to send him out in the field and bring +in Jones to first base. Only Jones was so excitable. He could hold any +kind of a ball, no matter how critical the play was, but there was no +telling what he would do with the ball after he got it.</p> + +<p>Joe came to himself with a start. A pretty way of studying history! He +buried his head in his book and began:</p> + + <p class="bq">Shortly after the Draconian reforms—</p> + +<p>He read the sentence through three times, and then recollected that he +had not looked up the Draconian reforms.</p> + +<p>A knock came at the door. He turned the pages over with a noisy flutter, +but made no answer.</p> + +<p>The knock was repeated, and Bessie's "Joe, dear" came to his ears.</p> + +<p>"What do you want?" he demanded. But before she could answer he hurried +on: "No admittance. I 'm busy."</p> + +<p>"I came to see if I could help you," she pleaded. "I 'm all done, and I +thought—"</p> + +<p>"Of course you 're all done!" he shouted. "You always are!"</p> + +<p>He held his head in both his hands to keep his eyes on the book. But +the baseball mask bothered him. The more he attempted to keep his mind +on the history the more in his mind's eye he saw the mask resting on the +chair and all the games in which it had played its part.</p> + +<p>This would never do. He deliberately placed the book face downward on the +desk and walked over to the chair. With a swift sweep he sent both mask +and glove hurtling under the bed, and so violently that he heard the mask +rebound from the wall.</p> + + <p class="bq">Shortly after the Draconian reforms, a war + broke out between Athens and Megara—</p> + +<p>The mask had rolled back from the wall. He wondered if it had rolled back +far enough for him to see it. No, he would n't look. What did it matter if +it had rolled out? That was n't history. He wondered—</p> + +<p>He peered over the top of the book, and there was the mask peeping out at +him from under the edge of the bed. This was not to be borne. There was +no use attempting to study while that mask was around. He went over and +fished it out, crossed the room to the closet, and tossed it inside, then +locked the door. That was settled, thank goodness! Now he could do some +work.</p> + +<p>He sat down again.</p> + + <p class="bq">Shortly after the Draconian reforms, a war + broke out between Athens and Megara respecting + the island of Salamis, to which, both cities + laid claim.</p> + +<p>Which was all very well, if he had only found out what the Draconian +reforms were. A soft glow pervaded the room, and he suddenly became +aware of it. What could cause it? He looked out of the window. The +setting sun was slanting its long rays against low-hanging masses of +summer clouds, turning them to warm scarlet and rosy red; and it was +from them that the red light, mellow and glowing, was flung earthward.</p> + +<p>His gaze dropped from the clouds to the bay beneath. The sea-breeze was +dying down with the day, and off Fort Point a fishing-boat was creeping +into port before the last light breeze. A little beyond, a tug was +sending up a twisted pillar of smoke as it towed a three-masted schooner +to sea. His eyes wandered over toward the Marin County shore. The line +where land and water met was already in darkness, and long shadows were +creeping up the hills toward Mount Tamalpais, which was sharply +silhouetted against the western sky.</p> + +<p>Oh, if he, Joe Bronson, were only on that fishing-boat and sailing in +with a deep-sea catch! Or if he were on that schooner, heading out into +the sunset, into the world! That was life, that was living, doing +something and being something in the world. And, instead, here he was, +pent up in a close room, racking his brains about people dead and gone +thousands of years before he was born.</p> + +<p>He jerked himself away from the window as though held there by some +physical force, and resolutely carried his chair and history into the +farthest corner of the room, where he sat down with his back to the +window.</p> + +<p>An instant later, so it seemed to him, he found himself again staring +out of the window and dreaming. How he had got there he did not know. +His last recollection was the finding of a subheading on a page on the +right-hand side of the book which read: "The Laws and Constitution of +Draco." And then, evidently like walking in one's sleep, he had come +to the window. How long had he been there? he wondered. The fishing-boat +which he had seen off Fort Point was now crawling into Meiggs's Wharf. +This denoted nearly an hour's lapse of time. The sun had long since set; +a solemn grayness was brooding over the water, and the first faint stars +were beginning to twinkle over the crest of Mount Tamalpais.</p> + +<p>He turned, with a sigh, to go back into his corner, when a long whistle, +shrill and piercing, came to his ears. That was Fred. He sighed again. +The whistle repeated itself. Then another whistle joined it. That was +Charley. They were waiting on the corner—lucky fellows!</p> + +<p>Well, they would n't see him this night. Both whistles arose in duet. He +writhed in his chair and groaned. No, they would n't see him this night, +he reiterated, at the same time rising to his feet. It was certainly +impossible for him to join them when he had not yet learned about the +Draconian reforms. The same force which had held him to the window now +seemed drawing him across the room to the desk. It made him put the +history on top of his school-books, and he had the door unlocked and +was half-way into the hall before he realized it. He started to return, +but the thought came to him that he could go out for a little while and +then come back and do his work.</p> + +<p>A very little while, he promised himself, as he went down-stairs. He +went down faster and faster, till at the bottom he was going three +steps at a time. He popped his cap on his head and went out of the +side entrance in a rush; and ere he reached the corner the reforms of +Draco were as far away in the past as Draco himself, while the examinations +on the morrow were equally far away in the future.</p> + +<HR class="medium"> + +<p class="chapter-head" id="Chapter_III">CHAPTER III</p> + +<p class="chapter-sub">"BRICK," "SORREL-TOP," AND "REDDY"</p> + +<p>"What 's up?" Joe asked, as he joined Fred and Charley.</p> + +<p>"Kites," Charley answered. "Come on. We 're tired out waiting for you."</p> + +<p>The three set off down the street to the brow of the hill, where they +looked down upon Union Street, far below and almost under their feet. +This they called the Pit, and it was well named. Themselves they called +the Hill-dwellers, and a descent into the Pit by the Hill-dwellers was +looked upon by them as a great adventure.</p> + +<p>Scientific kite-flying was one of the keenest pleasures of these three +particular Hill-dwellers, and six or eight kites strung out on a mile +of twine and soaring into the clouds was an ordinary achievement for +them. They were compelled to replenish their kite-supply often; for +whenever an accident occurred, and the string broke, or a ducking kite +dragged down the rest, or the wind suddenly died out, their kites fell +into the Pit, from which place they were unrecoverable. The reason for +this was the young people of the Pit were a piratical and robber race +with peculiar ideas of ownership and property rights.</p> + +<p>On a day following an accident to a kite of one of the Hill-dwellers, +the self-same kite could be seen riding the air attached to a string +which led down into the Pit to the lairs of the Pit People. So it came +about that the Pit People, who were a poor folk and unable to afford +scientific kite-flying, developed great proficiency in the art when +their neighbors the Hill-dwellers took it up.</p> + +<p>There was also an old sailorman who profited by this recreation of the +Hill-dwellers; for he was learned in sails and air-currents, and being +deft of hand and cunning, he fashioned the best-flying kites that could +be obtained. He lived in a rattletrap shanty close to the water, where +he could still watch with dim eyes the ebb and flow of the tide, and the +ships pass out and in, and where he could revive old memories of the days +when he, too, went down to the sea in ships.</p> + +<p>To reach his shanty from the Hill one had to pass through the Pit, and +thither the three boys were bound. They had often gone for kites in the +daytime, but this was their first trip after dark, and they felt it to +be, as it indeed was, a hazardous adventure.</p> + +<p>In simple words, the Pit was merely the cramped and narrow quarters +of the poor, where many nationalities crowded together in cosmopolitan +confusion, and lived as best they could, amid much dirt and squalor. +It was still early evening when the boys passed through on their way +to the sailorman's shanty, and no mishap befell them, though some of +the Pit boys stared at them savagely and hurled a taunting remark after +them, now and then.</p> + +<p>The sailorman made kites which were not only splendid fliers but which +folded up and were very convenient to carry. Each of the boys bought a +few, and, with them wrapped in compact bundles and under their arms, +started back on the return journey.</p> + +<p>"Keep a sharp lookout for the b'ys," the kite-maker cautioned them. +"They 're like to be cruisin' round after dark."</p> + +<p>"We 're not afraid," Charley assured him; "and we know how to take care +of ourselves."</p> + +<p>Used to the broad and quiet streets of the Hill, the boys were shocked +and stunned by the life that teemed in the close-packed quarter. It +seemed some thick and monstrous growth of vegetation, and that they +were wading through it. They shrank closely together in the tangle of +narrow streets as though for protection, conscious of the strangeness +of it all, and how unrelated they were to it.</p> + +<p>Children and babies sprawled on the sidewalk and under their feet. +Bareheaded and unkempt women gossiped in the doorways or passed back +and forth with scant marketings in their arms. There was a general +odor of decaying fruit and fish, a smell of staleness and putridity. +Big hulking men slouched by, and ragged little girls walked gingerly +through the confusion with foaming buckets of beer in their hands. +There was a clatter and garble of foreign tongues and brogues, shrill +cries, quarrels and wrangles, and the Pit pulsed with a great and +steady murmur, like the hum of the human hive that it was.</p> + +<p>"Phew! I 'll be glad when we 're out of it," Fred said.</p> + +<p>He spoke in a whisper, and Joe and Charley nodded grimly that they agreed +with him. They were not inclined to speech, and they walked as rapidly as +the crowd permitted, with much the same feelings as those of travelers in +a dangerous and hostile jungle.</p> + +<p>And danger and hostility stalked in the Pit. The inhabitants seemed to +resent the presence of these strangers from the Hill. Dirty little urchins +abused them as they passed, snarling with assumed bravery, and prepared +to run away at the first sign of attack. And still other little urchins +formed a noisy parade at the heels of the boys, and grew bolder with +increasing numbers.</p> + +<p>"Don't mind them," Joe cautioned. "Take no notice, but keep right on. +We 'll soon be out of it."</p> + +<p>"No; we 're in for it," said Fred, in an undertone. "Look there!"</p> + +<p>On the corner they were approaching, four or five boys of about their +own age were standing. The light from a street-lamp fell upon them and +disclosed one with vivid red hair. It could be no other than "Brick" +Simpson, the redoubtable leader of a redoubtable gang. Twice within +their memory he had led his gang up the Hill and spread panic and +terror among the Hill-dwelling young folk, who fled wildly to their +homes, while their fathers and mothers hurriedly telephoned for the +police.</p> + +<p>At sight of the group on the corner, the rabble at the heels of the +three boys melted away on the instant with like manifestations of +fear. This but increased the anxiety of the boys, though they held +boldly on their way.</p> + +<p>The red-haired boy detached himself from the group, and stepped before +them, blocking their path. They essayed to go around him, but he stretched +out his arm.</p> + +<p>"Wot yer doin' here?" he snarled. "Why don't yer stay where yer b'long?"</p> + +<p>"We 're just going home," Fred said mildly.</p> + +<p>Brick looked at Joe. "Wot yer got under yer arm?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>Joe contained himself and took no heed of him. "Come on," he said to Fred +and Charley, at the same time starting to brush past the gang-leader.</p> + +<p>But with a quick blow Brick Simpson struck him in the face, and with +equal quickness snatched the bundle of kites from under his arm.</p> + +<p>Joe uttered an inarticulate cry of rage, and, all caution flung to the +winds, sprang at his assailant.</p> + +<p>This was evidently a surprise to the gang-leader, who expected least of +all to be attacked in his own territory. He retreated backward, still +clutching the kites, and divided between desire to fight and desire to +retain his capture.</p> + +<p>The latter desire dominated him, and he turned and fled swiftly down +the narrow side-street into a labyrinth of streets and alleys. Joe knew +that he was plunging into the wilderness of the enemy's country, but +his sense of both property and pride had been offended, and he took up +the pursuit hot-footed.</p> + +<p>Fred and Charley followed after, though he outdistanced them, and behind +came the three other members of the gang, emitting a whistling call while +they ran which was evidently intended for the assembling of the rest of +the band. As the chase proceeded, these whistles were answered from many +different directions, and soon a score of dark figures were tagging at +the heels of Fred and Charley, who, in turn, were straining every muscle +to keep the swifter-footed Joe in sight.</p> + +<p>Brick Simpson darted into a vacant lot, aiming for a "slip," as such +things are called which are prearranged passages through fences and +over sheds and houses and around dark holes and corners, where the +unfamiliar pursuer must go more carefully and where the chances are +many that he will soon lose the track.</p> + +<p>But Joe caught Brick before he could attain his end, and together they +rolled over and over in the dirt, locked in each other's arms. By the +time Fred and Charley and the gang had come up, they were on their feet, +facing each other.</p> + +<p>"Wot d' ye want, eh?" the red-headed gang-leader was saying in a bullying +tone. "Wot d' ye want? That 's wot I wanter know."</p> + +<p>"I want my kites," Joe answered.</p> + +<p>Brick Simpson's eyes sparkled at the intelligence. Kites were something +he stood in need of himself.</p> + +<p>"Then you 've got to fight fer 'em," he announced.</p> + +<p>"Why should I fight for them?" Joe demanded indignantly. "They 're mine." +Which went to show how ignorant he was of the ideas of ownership and +property rights which obtained among the People of the Pit.</p> + +<p>A chorus of jeers and catcalls went up from the gang, which clustered +behind its leader like a pack of wolves.</p> + +<p>"Why should I fight for them?" Joe reiterated.</p> + +<p>"'Cos I say so," Simpson replied. "An' wot I say goes. Understand?"</p> + +<p>But Joe did not understand. He refused to understand that Brick Simpson's +word was law in San Francisco, or any part of San Francisco. His love of +honesty and right dealing was offended, and all his fighting blood was up.</p> + +<p>"You give those kites to me, right here and now," he threatened, reaching +out his hand for them.</p> + +<p>But Simpson jerked them away. "D' ye know who I am?" he demanded. "I +'m Brick Simpson, an' I don't 'low no one to talk to me in that tone +of voice."</p> + +<p>"Better leave him alone," Charley whispered in Joe's ear. "What are a +few kites? Leave him alone and let 's get out of this."</p> + +<p>"They 're my kites," Joe said slowly in a dogged manner. "They 're my +kites, and I 'm going to have them."</p> + +<p>"You can't fight the crowd," Fred interfered; "and if you do get the +best of him they 'll all pile on you."</p> + +<p>The gang, observing this whispered colloquy, and mistaking it for +hesitancy on the part of Joe, set up its wolf-like howling again.</p> + +<p>"Afraid! afraid!" the young roughs jeered and taunted. "He 's too +high-toned, he is! Mebbe he 'll spoil his nice clean shirt, and then +what 'll mama say?"</p> + +<p>"Shut up!" their leader snapped authoritatively, and the noise obediently +died away.</p> + +<p>"Will you give me those kites?" Joe demanded, advancing determinedly.</p> + +<p>"Will you fight for 'em?" was Simpson's counter-demand.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Joe answered.</p> + +<p>"Fight! fight!" the gang began to howl again.</p> + +<p>"And it 's me that 'll see fair play," said a man's heavy voice.</p> + +<p>All eyes were instantly turned upon the man who had approached unseen and +made this announcement. By the electric light, shining brightly on them +from the corner, they made him out to be a big, muscular fellow, clad in +a working-man's garments. His feet were incased in heavy brogans, a narrow +strap of black leather held his overalls about his waist, and a black and +greasy cap was on his head. His face was grimed with coal-dust, and a +coarse blue shirt, open at the neck, revealed a wide throat and massive +chest.</p> + +<p>"An' who 're you?" Simpson snarled, angry at the interruption.</p> + +<p>"None of yer business," the newcomer retorted tartly. "But, if it 'll +do you any good, I 'm a fireman on the China steamers, and, as I said, +I 'm goin' to see fair play. That 's my business. Your business is to +give fair play. So pitch in, and don't be all night about it."</p> + +<p>The three boys were as pleased by the appearance of the fireman as Simpson +and his followers were displeased. They conferred together for several +minutes, when Simpson deposited the bundle of kites in the arms of one +of his gang and stepped forward.</p> + +<p>"Come on, then," he said, at the same time pulling off his coat.</p> + +<p>Joe handed his to Fred, and sprang toward Brick. They put up their fists +and faced each other. Almost instantly Simpson drove in a fierce blow and +ducked cleverly away and out of reach of the blow which Joe returned. Joe +felt a sudden respect for the abilities of his antagonist, but the only +effect upon him was to arouse all the doggedness of his nature and make +him utterly determined to win.</p> + +<p>Awed by the presence of the fireman, Simpson's followers confined +themselves to cheering Brick and jeering Joe. The two boys circled +round and round, attacking, feinting, and guarding, and now one and +then the other getting in a telling blow. Their positions were in marked +contrast. Joe stood erect, planted solidly on his feet, with legs wide +apart and head up. On the other hand, Simpson crouched till his head was +nearly lost between his shoulders, and all the while he was in constant +motion, leaping and springing and manoeuvering in the execution of a +score or more of tricks quite new and strange to Joe.</p> + +<p>At the end of a quarter of an hour, both were very tired, though Joe was +much fresher. Tobacco, ill food, and unhealthy living were telling on +the gang-leader, who was panting and sobbing for breath. Though at first +(and because of superior skill) he had severely punished Joe, he was now +weak and his blows were without force. Growing desperate, he adopted +what might be called not an unfair but a mean method of attack: he would +manoeuver, leap in and strike swiftly, and then, ducking forward, fall +to the ground at Joe's feet. Joe could not strike him while he was down, +and so would step back until he could get on his feet again, when the +thing would be repeated.</p> + +<p>But Joe grew tired of this, and prepared for him. Timing his blow with +Simpson's attack, he delivered it just as Simpson was ducking forward +to fall. Simpson fell, but he fell over on one side, whither he had +been driven by the impact of Joe's fist upon his head. He rolled over +and got half-way to his feet, where he remained, crying and gasping. +His followers called upon him to get up, and he tried once or twice, +but was too exhausted and stunned.</p> + +<p>"I give in," he said. "I 'm licked."</p> + +<p>The gang had become silent and depressed at its leader's defeat.</p> + +<p>Joe stepped forward.</p> + +<p>"I 'll trouble you for those kites," he said to the boy who was +holding them.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I dunno," said another member of the gang, shoving in between +Joe and his property. His hair was also a vivid red. "You 've got +to lick me before you kin have 'em."</p> + +<p>"I don't see that," Joe said bluntly. "I 've fought and I 've won, +and there 's nothing more to it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, there is," said the other. "I 'm 'Sorrel-top' Simpson. +Brick 's my brother. See?"</p> + +<p>And so, in this fashion, Joe learned another custom of the Pit People +of which he had been ignorant.</p> + +<p>"All right," he said, his fighting blood more fully aroused than ever +by the unjustness of the proceeding. "Come on."</p> + +<p>Sorrel-top Simpson, a year younger than his brother, proved to be a +most unfair fighter, and the good-natured fireman was compelled to +interfere several times before the second of the Simpson clan lay on +the ground and acknowledged defeat.</p> + +<p>This time Joe reached for his kites without the slightest doubt that +he was to get them. But still another lad stepped in between him and +his property. The telltale hair, vividly red, sprouted likewise on +this lad's head, and Joe knew him at once for what he was, another +member of the Simpson clan. He was a younger edition of his brothers, +somewhat less heavily built, with a face covered with a vast quantity +of freckles, which showed plainly under the electric light.</p> + +<p>"You don't git them there kites till you git me," he challenged in +a piping little voice. "I 'm 'Reddy' Simpson, an' you ain't licked +the fambly till you 've licked me."</p> + +<p>The gang cheered admiringly, and Reddy stripped a tattered jacket +preparatory for the fray.</p> + +<p>"Git ready," he said to Joe.</p> + +<p>Joe's knuckles were torn, his nose was bleeding, his lip was cut and +swollen, while his shirt had been ripped down from throat to waist. +Further, he was tired, and breathing hard.</p> + +<p>"How many more are there of you Simpsons?" he asked. "I 've got to +get home, and if your family 's much larger this thing is liable +to keep on all night."</p> + +<p>"I 'm the last an' the best," Reddy replied. "You gits me an' you +gits the kites. Sure."</p> + +<p>"All right," Joe sighed. "Come on."</p> + +<p>While the youngest of the clan lacked the strength and skill of his +elders, he made up for it by a wildcat manner of fighting that taxed +Joe severely. Time and again it seemed to him that he must give in +to the little whirlwind; but each time he pulled himself together +and went doggedly on. For he felt that he was fighting for principle, +as his forefathers had fought for principle; also, it seemed to him that +the honor of the Hill was at stake, and that he, as its representative, +could do nothing less than his very best.</p> + +<p>So he held on and managed to endure his opponent's swift and continuous +rushes till that young and less experienced person at last wore himself +out with his own exertions, and from the ground confessed that, for the +first time in its history, the "Simpson fambly was beat."</p> + +<HR class="medium"> + +<p class="chapter-head" id="Chapter_IV">CHAPTER IV</p> + +<p class="chapter-sub">THE BITER BITTEN</p> + +<p>But life in the Pit at best was a precarious affair, as the three +Hill-dwellers were quickly to learn. Before Joe could even possess +himself of his kites, his astonished eyes were greeted with the +spectacle of all his enemies, the fireman included, taking to their +heels in wild flight. As the little girls and urchins had melted away +before the Simpson gang, so was melting away the Simpson gang before +some new and correspondingly awe-inspiring group of predatory creatures.</p> + +<p>Joe heard terrified cries of "Fish gang!" "Fish gang!" from those who +fled, and he would have fled himself from this new danger, only he was +breathless from his last encounter, and knew the impossibility of +escaping whatever threatened. Fred and Charley felt mighty longings +to run away from a danger great enough to frighten the redoubtable +Simpson gang and the valorous fireman, but they could not desert +their comrade.</p> + +<p>Dark forms broke into the vacant lot, some surrounding the boys and +others dashing after the fugitives. That the laggards were overtaken +was evidenced by the cries of distress that went up, and when later +the pursuers returned, they brought with them the luckless and snarling +Brick, still clinging fast to the bundle of kites.</p> + +<p>Joe looked curiously at this latest band of marauders. They were young +men of from seventeen and eighteen to twenty-three and -four years of +age, and bore the unmistakable stamp of the hoodlum class. There were +vicious faces among them—faces so vicious as to make Joe's flesh creep +as he looked at them. A couple grasped him tightly by the arms, and +Fred and Charley were similarly held captive.</p> + +<p>"Look here, you," said one who spoke with the authority of leader, +"we 've got to inquire into this. Wot 's be'n goin' on here? Wot 're +you up to, Red-head? Wot you be'n doin'?"</p> + +<p>"Ain't be'n doin' nothin'," Simpson whined.</p> + +<p>"Looks like it." The leader turned up Brick's face to the electric +light. "Who 's been paintin' you up like that?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>Brick pointed at Joe, who was forthwith dragged to the front.</p> + +<p>"Wot was you scrappin' about?"</p> + +<p>"Kites—my kites," Joe spoke up boldly. "That fellow tried to take them +away from me. He 's got them under his arm now."</p> + +<p>"Oh, he has, has he? Look here, you Brick, we don't put up with stealin' +in this territory. See? You never rightly owned nothin'. Come, fork over +the kites. Last call."</p> + +<p>The leader tightened his grasp threateningly, and Simpson, weeping tears +of rage, surrendered the plunder.</p> + +<p>"Wot yer got under yer arm?" the leader demanded abruptly of Fred, at the +same time jerking out the bundle. "More kites, eh? Reg'lar kite-factory +gone and got itself lost," he remarked finally, when he had appropriated +Charley's bundle. "Now, wot I wants to know is wot we 're goin' to do to +you t'ree chaps?" he continued in a judicial tone.</p> + +<p>"What for?" Joe demanded hotly. "For being robbed of our kites?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all, not at all," the leader responded politely; "but for luggin' +kites round these quarters an' causin' all this unseemly disturbance. +It 's disgraceful; that 's wot it is—disgraceful."</p> + +<p>At this juncture, when the Hill-dwellers were the center of attraction, +Brick suddenly wormed out of his jacket, squirmed away from his captors, +and dashed across the lot to the slip for which he had been originally +headed when overtaken by Joe. Two or three of the gang shot over the +fence after him in noisy pursuit. There was much barking and howling of +back-yard dogs and clattering of shoes over sheds and boxes. Then there +came a splashing of water, as though a barrel of it had been precipitated +to the ground. Several minutes later the pursuers returned, very sheepish +and very wet from the deluge presented them by the wily Brick, whose +voice, high up in the air from some friendly housetop, could be heard +defiantly jeering them.</p> + +<p>This event apparently disconcerted the leader of the gang, and just as +he turned to Joe and Fred and Charley, a long and peculiar whistle came +to their ears from the street—the warning signal, evidently, of a scout +posted to keep a lookout. The next moment the scout himself came flying +back to the main body, which was already beginning to retreat.</p> + +<p>"Cops!" he panted.</p> + +<p>Joe looked, and he saw two helmeted policemen approaching, with bright +stars shining on their breasts.</p> + +<p>"Let 's get out of this," he whispered to Fred and Charley.</p> + +<p>The gang had already taken to flight, and they blocked the boys' retreat +in one quarter, and in another they saw the policemen advancing. So they +took to their heels in the direction of Brick Simpson's slip, the policemen +hot after them and yelling bravely for them to halt.</p> + +<p>But young feet are nimble, and young feet when frightened become something +more than nimble, and the boys were first over the fence and plunging +wildly through a maze of back yards. They soon found that the policemen +were discreet. Evidently they had had experiences in slips, and they were +satisfied to give over the chase at the first fence.</p> + +<p>No street-lamps shed their light here, and the boys blundered along +through the blackness with their hearts in their mouths. In one yard, +filled with mountains of crates and fruit-boxes, they were lost for a +quarter of an hour. Feel and quest about as they would, they encountered +nothing but endless heaps of boxes. From this wilderness they finally +emerged by way of a shed roof, only to fall into another yard, cumbered +with countless empty chicken-coops.</p> + +<p>Farther on they came upon the contrivance which had soaked Brick Simpson's +pursuers with water. It was a cunning arrangement. Where the slip led +through a fence with a board missing, a long slat was so arranged that +the ignorant wayfarer could not fail to strike against it. This slat +was the spring of the trap. A light touch upon it was sufficient to +disconnect a heavy stone from a barrel perched overhead and nicely +balanced. The disconnecting of the stone permitted the barrel to turn +over and spill its contents on the one beneath who touched the slat.</p> + +<p>The boys examined the arrangement with keen appreciation. Luckily for +them, the barrel was overturned, or they too would have received a +ducking, for Joe, who was in advance, had blundered against the slat.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if this is Simpson's back yard?" he queried softly.</p> + +<p>"It must be," Fred concluded, "or else the back yard of some member +of his gang."</p> + +<p>Charley put his hands warningly on both their arms.</p> + +<p>"Hist! What 's that?" he whispered.</p> + +<p>They crouched down on the ground. Not far away was the sound of some +one moving about. Then they heard a noise of falling water, as from +a faucet into a bucket. This was followed by steps boldly approaching. +They crouched lower, breathless with apprehension.</p> + +<p>A dark form passed by within arm's reach and mounted on a box to the +fence. It was Brick himself, resetting the trap. They heard him arrange +the slat and stone, then right the barrel and empty into it a couple of +buckets of water. As he came down from the box to go after more water, +Joe sprang upon him, tripped him up, and held him to the ground.</p> + +<p>"Don't make any noise," he said. "I want you to listen to me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it 's you, is it?" Simpson replied, with such obvious relief in +his voice as to make them feel relieved also. "Wot d' ye want here?"</p> + +<p>"We want to get out of here," Joe said, "and the shortest way 's the +best. There 's three of us, and you 're only one—"</p> + +<p>"That 's all right, that 's all right," the gang-leader interrupted. +"I 'd just as soon show you the way out as not. I ain't got nothin' +'gainst you. Come on an' follow me, an' don't step to the side, an' +I 'll have you out in no time."</p> + +<p>Several minutes later they dropped from the top of a high fence into +a dark alley.</p> + +<p>"Follow this to the street," Simpson directed; "turn to the right two +blocks, turn to the right again for three, an' yer on Union. Tra-la-loo."</p> + +<p>They said good-by, and as they started down the alley received the +following advice:</p> + +<p>"Nex' time you bring kites along, you 'd best leave 'em to home."</p> + +<HR class="medium"> + +<p class="chapter-head" id="Chapter_V">CHAPTER V</p> + +<p class="chapter-sub">HOME AGAIN</p> + +<p>Following Brick Simpson's directions, they came into Union Street, and +without further mishap gained the Hill. From the brow they looked down +into the Pit, whence arose that steady, indefinable hum which comes +from crowded human places.</p> + +<p>"I 'll never go down there again, not as long as I live," Fred said +with a great deal of savagery in his voice. "I wonder what became of +the fireman."</p> + +<p>"We 're lucky to get back with whole skins," Joe cheered them +philosophically.</p> + +<p>"I guess we left our share, and you more than yours," laughed Charley.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Joe answered. "And I 've got more trouble to face when I get +home. Good night, fellows."</p> + +<p>As he expected, the door on the side porch was locked, and he went +around to the dining-room and entered like a burglar through a window. +As he crossed the wide hall, walking softly toward the stairs, his +father came out of the library. The surprise was mutual, and each +halted aghast.</p> + +<p>Joe felt a hysterical desire to laugh, for he thought that he knew +precisely how he looked. In reality he looked far worse than he +imagined. What Mr. Bronson saw was a boy with hat and coat covered +with dirt, his whole face smeared with the stains of conflict, and, +in particular, a badly swollen nose, a bruised eyebrow, a cut and +swollen lip, a scratched cheek, knuckles still bleeding, and a shirt +torn open from throat to waist.</p> + +<p>"What does this mean, sir?" Mr. Bronson finally managed to articulate.</p> + +<p>Joe stood speechless. How could he tell, in one brief sentence, all +the whole night's happenings?—for all that must be included in the +explanation of what his luckless disarray meant.</p> + +<p>"Have you lost your tongue?" Mr. Bronson demanded with an appearance +of impatience.</p> + +<p>"I 've—I 've—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," his father encouraged.</p> + +<p>"I 've—well, I 've been down in the Pit," Joe succeeded in blurting out.</p> + +<p>"I must confess that you look like it—very much like it indeed." +Mr. Bronson spoke severely, but if ever by great effort he conquered +a smile, that was the time. "I presume," he went on, "that you do not +refer to the abiding-place of sinners, but rather to some definite +locality in San Francisco. Am I right?"</p> + +<p>Joe swept his arm in a descending gesture toward Union Street, and said: +"Down there, sir."</p> + +<p>"And who gave it that name?"</p> + +<p>"I did," Joe answered, as though confessing to a specified crime.</p> + +<p>"It 's most appropriate, I 'm sure, and denotes imagination. It could n't +really be bettered. You must do well at school, sir, with your English."</p> + +<p>This did not increase Joe's happiness, for English was the only study of +which he did not have to feel ashamed.</p> + +<p>And, while he stood thus a silent picture of misery and disgrace, +Mr. Bronson looked upon him through the eyes of his own boyhood with +an understanding which Joe could not have believed possible.</p> + +<p>"However, what you need just now is not a discourse, but a bath and +court-plaster and witch-hazel and cold-water bandages," Mr. Bronson +said; "so to bed with you. You 'll need all the sleep you can get, +and you 'll feel stiff and sore to-morrow morning, I promise you."</p> + +<p>The clock struck one as Joe pulled the bedclothes around him; and the +next he knew he was being worried by a soft, insistent rapping, which +seemed to continue through several centuries, until at last, unable to +endure it longer, he opened his eyes and sat up.</p> + +<p>The day was streaming in through the window—bright and sunshiny day. +He stretched his arms to yawn; but a shooting pain darted through all +the muscles, and his arms came down more rapidly than they had gone up. +He looked at them with a bewildered stare, till suddenly the events of +the night rushed in upon him, and he groaned.</p> + +<p>The rapping still persisted, and he cried: "Yes, I hear. What time is it?"</p> + +<p>"Eight o'clock," Bessie's voice came to him through the door. "Eight +o'clock, and you 'll have to hurry if you don't want to be late for +school."</p> + +<p>"Goodness!" He sprang out of bed precipitately, groaned with the pain +from all his stiff muscles, and collapsed slowly and carefully on a +chair. "Why did n't you call me sooner?" he growled.</p> + +<p>"Father said to let you sleep."</p> + +<p>Joe groaned again, in another fashion Then his history-book caught his +eye, and he groaned yet again and in still another fashion.</p> + +<p>"All right," he called. "Go on. I 'll be down in a jiffy."</p> + +<p>He did come down in fairly brief order; but if Bessie had watched him +descend the stairs she would have been astounded at the remarkable +caution he observed and at the twinges of pain that every now and then +contorted his face. As it was, when she came upon him in the dining-room +she uttered a frightened cry and ran over to him.</p> + +<p>"What 's the matter, Joe?" she asked tremulously. "What has happened?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," he grunted, putting sugar on his porridge.</p> + +<p>"But surely—" she began.</p> + +<p>"Please don't bother me," he interrupted. "I 'm late, and I want to +eat my breakfast."</p> + +<p>And just then Mrs. Bronson caught Bessie's eye, and that young lady, +still mystified, made haste to withdraw herself.</p> + +<p>Joe was thankful to his mother for that, and thankful that she refrained +from remarking upon his appearance. Father had told her; that was one +thing sure. He could trust her not to worry him; it was never her way.</p> + +<p>And, meditating in this way, he hurried through with his solitary +breakfast, vaguely conscious in an uncomfortable way that his mother +was fluttering anxiously about him. Tender as she always was, he noticed +that she kissed him with unusual tenderness as he started out with his +books swinging at the end of a strap; and he also noticed, as he turned +the corner, that she was still looking after him through the window.</p> + +<p>But of more vital importance than that, to him, was his stiffness and +soreness. As he walked along, each step was an effort and a torment. +Severely as the reflected sunlight from the cement sidewalk hurt his +bruised eye, and severely as his various wounds pained him, still more +severely did he suffer from his muscles and joints. He had never imagined +such stiffness. Each individual muscle in his whole body protested when +called upon to move. His fingers were badly swollen, and it was agony to +clasp and unclasp them; while his arms were sore from wrist to elbow. +This, he said to himself, was caused by the many blows which he had +warded off from his face and body. He wondered if Brick Simpson was in +similar plight, and the thought of their mutual misery made him feel a +certain kinship for that redoubtable young ruffian.</p> + +<p>When he entered the school-yard he quickly became aware that he was +the center of attraction for all eyes. The boys crowded around in an +awe-stricken way, and even his classmates and those with whom he was +well acquainted looked at him with a certain respect he had never +seen before.</p> + +<HR class="medium"> + +<p class="chapter-head" id="Chapter_VI">CHAPTER VI</p> + +<p class="chapter-sub">EXAMINATION DAY</p> + +<p>It was plain that Fred and Charley had spread the news of their descent +into the Pit, and of their battle with the Simpson clan and the Fishes. +He heard the nine-o'clock bell with feelings of relief, and passed into +the school, a mark for admiring glances from all the boys. The girls, +too, looked at him in a timid and fearful way—as they might have looked +at Daniel when he came out of the lions' den, Joe thought, or at David +after his battle with Goliath. It made him uncomfortable and painfully +self-conscious, this hero-worshiping, and he wished heartily that they +would look in some other direction for a change.</p> + +<p>Soon they did look in another direction. While big sheets of foolscap +were being distributed to every desk, Miss Wilson, the teacher (an +austere-looking young woman who went through the world as though it +were a refrigerator, and who, even on the warmest days in the classroom, +was to be found with a shawl or cape about her shoulders), arose, and +on the blackboard where all could see wrote the Roman numeral "I." Every +eye, and there were fifty pairs of them, hung with expectancy upon her +hand, and in the pause that followed the room was quiet as the grave.</p> + +<p>Underneath the Roman numeral "I" she wrote: "<span class="i">(a) What were the laws +of Draco? (b) Why did an Athenian orator say that they were written +'not in ink, but in blood'?</span>"</p> + +<p>Forty-nine heads bent down and forty-nine pens scratched lustily across +as many sheets of foolscap. Joe's head alone remained up, and he regarded +the blackboard with so blank a stare that Miss Wilson, glancing over her +shoulder after having written "II," stopped to look at him. Then she +wrote:</p> + +<p>"<span class="i">(a) How did the war between Athens and Megara, respecting the island +of Salamis, bring about the reforms of Solon? (b) In what way did they +differ from the laws of Draco?</span>"</p> + +<p>She turned to look at Joe again. He was staring as blankly as ever.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter, Joe?" she asked. "Have you no paper?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have, thank you," he answered, and began moodily to sharpen +a lead-pencil.</p> + +<p>He made a fine point to it. Then he made a very fine point. Then, and +with infinite patience, he proceeded to make it very much finer. Several +of his classmates raised their heads inquiringly at the noise. But he +did not notice. He was too absorbed in his pencil-sharpening and in +thinking thoughts far away from both pencil-sharpening and Greek history.</p> + +<p>"Of course you all understand that the examination papers are to be +written with ink."</p> + +<p>Miss Wilson addressed the class in general, but her eyes rested on Joe.</p> + +<p>Just as it was about as fine as it could possibly be the point broke, +and Joe began over again.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid, Joe, that you annoy the class," Miss Wilson said in final +desperation.</p> + +<p>He put the pencil down, closed the knife with a snap, and returned to +his blank staring at the blackboard. What did he know about Draco? or +Solon? or the rest of the Greeks? It was a flunk, and that was all there +was to it. No need for him to look at the rest of the questions, and even +if he did know the answers to two or three, there was no use in writing +them down. It would not prevent the flunk. Besides, his arm hurt him too +much to write. It hurt his eyes to look at the blackboard, and his eyes +hurt even when they were closed; and it seemed positively to hurt him +to think.</p> + +<p>So the forty-nine pens scratched on in a race after Miss Wilson, who was +covering the blackboard with question after question; and he listened to +the scratching, and watched the questions growing under her chalk, and +was very miserable indeed. His head seemed whirling around. It ached +inside and was sore outside, and he did not seem to have any control +of it at all.</p> + +<p>He was beset with memories of the Pit, like scenes from some monstrous +nightmare, and, try as he would, he could not dispel them. He would fix +his mind and eyes on Miss Wilson's face, who was now sitting at her desk, +and even as he looked at her the face of Brick Simpson, impudent and +pugnacious, would arise before him. It was of no use. He felt sick and +sore and tired and worthless. There was nothing to be done but flunk. +And when, after an age of waiting, the papers were collected, his went +in a blank, save for his name, the name of the examination, and the date, +which were written across the top.</p> + +<p>After a brief interval, more papers were given out, and the examination +in arithmetic began. He did not trouble himself to look at the questions. +Ordinarily he might have pulled through such an examination, but in his +present state of mind and body he knew it was impossible. He contented +himself with burying his face in his hands and hoping for the noon hour. +Once, lifting his eyes to the clock, he caught Bessie looking anxiously at +him across the room from the girls' side. This but added to his discomfort. +Why was she bothering him? No need for her to trouble. She was bound to +pass. Then why could n't she leave him alone? So he gave her a particularly +glowering look and buried his face in his hands again. Nor did he lift it +till the twelve-o'clock gong rang, when he handed in a second blank paper +and passed out with the boys.</p> + +<p>Fred and Charley and he usually ate lunch in a corner of the yard which +they had arrogated to themselves; but this day, by some remarkable +coincidence, a score of other boys had elected to eat their lunches on +the same spot. Joe surveyed them with disgust. In his present condition +he did not feel inclined to receive hero-worship. His head ached too +much, and he was troubled over his failure in the examinations; and +there were more to come in the afternoon.</p> + +<p>He was angry with Fred and Charley. They were chattering like magpies +over the adventures of the night (in which, however, they did not fail +to give him chief credit), and they conducted themselves in quite a +patronizing fashion toward their awed and admiring schoolmates. But +every attempt to make Joe talk was a failure. He grunted and gave short +answers, and said "yes" and "no" to questions asked with the intention +of drawing him out.</p> + +<p>He was longing to get away somewhere by himself, to throw himself down +some place on the green grass and forget his aches and pains and troubles. +He got up to go and find such a place, and found half a dozen of his +following tagging after him. He wanted to turn around and scream at them +to leave him alone, but his pride restrained him. A great wave of disgust +and despair swept over him, and then an idea flashed through his mind. +Since he was sure to flunk in his examinations, why endure the afternoon's +torture, which could not but be worse than the morning's? And on the +impulse of the moment he made up his mind.</p> + +<p>He walked straight on to the schoolyard gate and passed out. Here his +worshipers halted in wonderment, but he kept on to the corner and out of +sight. For some time he wandered along aimlessly, till he came to the +tracks of a cable road. A down-town car happening to stop to let off +passengers, he stepped aboard and ensconced himself in an outside corner +seat. The next thing he was aware of, the car was swinging around on its +turn-table and he was hastily scrambling off. The big ferry building stood +before him. Seeing and hearing nothing, he had been carried through the +heart of the business section of San Francisco.</p> + +<p>He glanced up at the tower clock on top of the ferry building. It was +ten minutes after one—time enough to catch the quarter-past-one boat. +That decided him, and without the least idea in the world as to where he +was going, he paid ten cents for a ticket, passed through the gate, and +was soon speeding across the bay to the pretty city of Oakland.</p> + +<p>In the same aimless and unwitting fashion, he found himself, an hour +later, sitting on the string-piece of the Oakland city wharf and leaning +his aching head against a friendly timber. From where he sat he could +look down upon the decks of a number of small sailing-craft. Quite a +crowd of curious idlers had collected to look at them, and Joe found +himself growing interested.</p> + +<p>There were four boats, and from where he sat he could make out their +names. The one directly beneath him had the name <span class="i">Ghost</span> painted in large +green letters on its stern. The other three, which lay beyond, were called +respectively <span class="i">La Caprice</span>, the <span class="i">Oyster Queen</span>, and the <span class="i">Flying Dutchman</span>.</p> + +<p>Each of these boats had cabins built amidships, with short stovepipes +projecting through the roofs, and from the pipe of the <span class="i">Ghost</span> smoke +was ascending. The cabin doors were open and the roof-slide pulled +back, so that Joe could look inside and observe the inmate, a young +fellow of nineteen or twenty who was engaged just then in cooking. He +was clad in long sea-boots which reached the hips, blue overalls, and +dark woolen shirt. The sleeves, rolled back to the elbows, disclosed +sturdy, sun-bronzed arms, and when the young fellow looked up his face +proved to be equally bronzed and tanned.</p> + +<p>The aroma of coffee arose to Joe's nose, and from a light iron pot came +the unmistakable smell of beans nearly done. The cook placed a frying-pan +on the stove, wiped it around with a piece of suet when it had heated, +and tossed in a thick chunk of beefsteak. While he worked he talked with +a companion on deck, who was busily engaged in filling a bucket overside +and flinging the salt water over heaps of oysters that lay on the deck. +This completed, he covered the oysters with wet sacks, and went into the +cabin, where a place was set for him on a tiny table, and where the cook +served the dinner and joined him in eating it.</p> + +<p>All the romance of Joe's nature stirred at the sight. That was life. They +were living, and gaining their living, out in the free open, under the sun +and sky, with the sea rocking beneath them, and the wind blowing on them, +or the rain falling on them, as the chance might be. Each day and every +day he sat in a room, pent up with fifty more of his kind, racking his +brains and cramming dry husks of knowledge, while they were doing all +this, living glad and careless and happy, rowing boats and sailing, and +cooking their own food, and certainly meeting with adventures such as one +only dreams of in the crowded school-room.</p> + +<p>Joe sighed. He felt that he was made for this sort of life and not for +the life of a scholar. As a scholar he was undeniably a failure. He had +flunked in his examinations, while at that very moment, he knew, Bessie +was going triumphantly home, her last examination over and done, and with +credit. Oh, it was not to be borne! His father was wrong in sending him +to school. That might be well enough for boys who were inclined to study, +but it was manifest that he was not so inclined. There were more careers +in life than that of the schools. Men had gone down to the sea in the +lowest capacity, and risen in greatness, and owned great fleets, and done +great deeds, and left their names on the pages of time. And why not he, +Joe Bronson?</p> + +<p>He closed his eyes and felt immensely sorry for himself; and when he +opened his eyes again he found that he had been asleep, and that the +sun was sinking fast.</p> + +<p>It was after dark when he arrived home, and he went straight to his room +and to bed without meeting any one. He sank down between the cool sheets +with a sigh of satisfaction at the thought that, come what would, he need +no longer worry about his history. Then another and unwelcome thought +obtruded itself, and he knew that the next school term would come, and +that six months thereafter, another examination in the same history +awaited him.</p> + +<HR class="medium"> + +<p class="chapter-head" id="Chapter_VII">CHAPTER VII</p> + +<p class="chapter-sub">FATHER AND SON</p> + +<p>On the following morning, after breakfast, Joe was summoned to the +library by his father, and he went in almost with a feeling of gladness +that the suspense of waiting was over. Mr. Bronson was standing by the +window. A great chattering of sparrows outside seemed to have attracted +his attention. Joe joined him in looking out, and saw a fledgeling sparrow +on the grass, tumbling ridiculously about in its efforts to stand on its +feeble baby legs. It had fallen from the nest in the rose-bush that climbed +over the window, and the two parent sparrows were wild with anxiety over +its plight.</p> + +<p>"It 's a way young birds have," Mr. Bronson remarked, turning to Joe +with a serious smile; "and I dare say you are on the verge of a somewhat +similar predicament, my boy," he went on. "I am afraid things have +reached a crisis, Joe. I have watched it coming on for a year now—your +poor scholarship, your carelessness and inattention, your constant +desire to be out of the house and away in search of adventures of one +sort or another."</p> + +<p>He paused, as though expecting a reply; but Joe remained silent.</p> + +<p>"I have given you plenty of liberty. I believe in liberty. The finest +souls grow in such soil. So I have not hedged you in with endless rules +and irksome restrictions. I have asked little of you, and you have come +and gone pretty much as you pleased. In a way, I have put you on your +honor, made you largely your own master, trusting to your sense of right +to restrain you from going wrong and at least to keep you up in your +studies. And you have failed me. What do you want me to do? Set you +certain bounds and time-limits? Keep a watch over you? Compel you by +main strength to go through your books?</p> + +<p>"I have here a note," Mr. Bronson said after another pause, in which he +picked up an envelop from the table and drew forth a written sheet.</p> + +<p>Joe recognized the stiff and uncompromising scrawl of Miss Wilson, and +his heart sank.</p> + +<p>His father began to read:</p> + + <p class="bq">"Listlessness and carelessness have characterized + his term's work, so that when the examinations + came he was wholly unprepared. In neither history + nor arithmetic did he attempt to answer a question, + passing in his papers perfectly blank. These + examinations took place in the morning. In the + afternoon he did not take the trouble even to + appear for the remainder."</p> + +<p>Mr. Bronson ceased reading and looked up.</p> + +<p>"Where were you in the afternoon?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I went across on the ferry to Oakland," Joe answered, not caring to offer +his aching head and body in extenuation.</p> + +<p>"That is what is called 'playing hooky,' is it not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," Joe answered.</p> + +<p>"The night before the examinations, instead of studying, you saw fit to +wander away and involve yourself in a disgraceful fight with hoodlums. +I did not say anything at the time. In my heart I think I might almost +have forgiven you that, if you had done well in your school-work."</p> + +<p>Joe had nothing to say. He knew that there was his side to the story, but +he felt that his father did not understand, and that there was little use +of telling him.</p> + +<p>"The trouble with you, Joe, is carelessness and lack of concentration. +What you need is what I have not given you, and that is rigid discipline. +I have been debating for some time upon the advisability of sending you +to some military school, where your tasks will be set for you, and what +you do every moment in the twenty-four hours will be determined for you—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, father, you don't understand, you can't understand!" Joe broke forth +at last. "I try to study—I honestly try to study; but somehow—I don't +know how—I can't study. Perhaps I am a failure. Perhaps I am not made +for study. I want to go out into the world. I want to see life—to live. +I don't want any military academy; I 'd sooner go to sea—anywhere where +I can do something and be something."</p> + +<p>Mr. Bronson looked at him kindly. "It is only through study that you can +hope to do something and be something in the world," he said.</p> + +<p>Joe threw up his hand with a gesture of despair.</p> + +<p>"I know how you feel about it," Mr. Bronson went on; "but you are only a +boy, very much like that young sparrow we were watching. If at home you +have not sufficient control over yourself to study, then away from home, +out in the world which you think is calling to you, you will likewise +not have sufficient control over yourself to do the work of that world.</p> + +<p>"But I am willing, Joe, I am willing, after you have finished high school +and before you go into the university, to let you out into the world for +a time."</p> + +<p>"Let me go now?" Joe asked impulsively.</p> + +<p>"No; it is too early. You have n't your wings yet. You are too unformed, +and your ideals and standards are not yet thoroughly fixed."</p> + +<p>"But I shall not be able to study," Joe threatened. "I know I shall not +be able to study."</p> + +<p>Mr. Bronson consulted his watch and arose to go. "I have not made up my +mind yet," he said. "I do not know what I shall do—whether I shall give +you another trial at the public school or send you to a military academy."</p> + +<p>He stopped a moment at the door and looked back. "But remember this, Joe," +he said. "I am not angry with you; I am more grieved and hurt. Think it +over, and tell me this evening what you intend to do."</p> + +<p>His father passed out, and Joe heard the front door close after him. He +leaned back in the big easy-chair and closed his eyes. A military school! +He feared such an institution as the animal fears a trap. No, he would +certainly never go to such a place. And as for public school—He sighed +deeply at the thought of it. He was given till evening to make up his +mind as to what he intended to do. Well, he knew what he would do, and +he did not have to wait till evening to find it out.</p> + +<p>He got up with a determined look on his face, put on his hat, and went +out the front door. He would show his father that he could do his share +of the world's work, he thought as he walked along—he would show him.</p> + +<p>By the time he reached the school he had his whole plan worked out +definitely. Nothing remained but to put it through. It was the noon +hour, and he passed in to his room and packed up his books unnoticed. +Coming out through the yard, he encountered Fred and Charley.</p> + +<p>"What 's up?" Charley asked.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," Joe grunted.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing there?"</p> + +<p>"Taking my books home, of course. What did you suppose I was doing?"</p> + +<p>"Come, come," Fred interposed. "Don't be so mysterious. I don't see why +you can't tell us what has happened."</p> + +<p>"You 'll find out soon enough," Joe said significantly—more significantly +than he had intended.</p> + +<p>And, for fear that he might say more, he turned his back on his astonished +chums and hurried away. He went straight home and to his room, where he +busied himself at once with putting everything in order. His clothes +he hung carefully away, changing the suit he had on for an older one. +From his bureau he selected a couple of changes of underclothing, a +couple of cotton shirts, and half a dozen pairs of socks. To these he +added as many handkerchiefs, a comb, and a tooth-brush.</p> + +<p>When he had bound the bundle in stout wrapping-paper he contemplated it +with satisfaction. Then he went over to his desk and took from a small +inner compartment his savings for some months, which amounted to several +dollars. This sum he had been keeping for the Fourth of July, but he thrust +it into his pocket with hardly a regret. Then he pulled a writing-pad over +to him, sat down and wrote:<p> + + <p class="bq">Don't look for me. I am a failure and I am + going away to sea. Don't worry about me. I + am all right and able to take care of myself. + I shall come back some day, and then you will + all be proud of me. Good-by, papa, and mama, + and Bessie.</p> + <p class="bq-sig">JOE.</p> + +<p>This he left lying on his desk where it could easily be seen. He tucked +the bundle under his arm, and, with a last farewell look at the room, +stole out.</p> + +<HR class="medium"> + +<p class="chapter-head">PART II</p> + +<HR class="small"> + +<p class="chapter-head" id="Chapter_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</p> + +<p class="chapter-sub">'FRISCO KID AND THE NEW BOY</p> + +<p>'Frisco Kid was discontented—discontented and disgusted. This would have +seemed impossible to the boys who fished from the dock above and envied +him greatly. True, they wore cleaner and better clothes, and were blessed +with fathers and mothers; but his was the free floating life of the bay, +the domain of moving adventure, and the companionship of men—theirs the +rigid discipline and dreary sameness of home life. They did not dream that +'Frisco Kid ever looked up at them from the cockpit of the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> +and in turn envied them just those things which sometimes were the most +distasteful to them and from which they suffered to repletion. Just as the +romance of adventure sang its siren song in their ears and whispered vague +messages of strange lands and lusty deeds, so the delicious mysteries of +home enticed 'Frisco Kid's roving fancies, and his brightest day-dreams +were of the thing's he knew not—brothers, sisters, a father's counsel, +a mother's kiss.</p> + +<p>He frowned, got up from where he had been sunning himself on top of +the <span class="i">Dazzler's</span> cabin, and kicked off his heavy rubber boots. Then +he stretched himself on the narrow side-deck and dangled his feet in +the cool salt water.</p> + +<p>"Now that 's freedom," thought the boys who watched him. Besides, those +long sea-boots, reaching to the hips and buckled to the leather strap +about the waist, held a strange and wonderful fascination for them. They +did not know that 'Frisco Kid did not possess such things as shoes—that +the boots were an old pair of Pete Le Maire's and were three sizes too +large for him. Nor could they guess how uncomfortable they were to wear +on a hot summer day.</p> + +<p>The cause of 'Frisco Kid's discontent was those very boys who sat on +the string-piece and admired him; but his disgust was the result of +quite another event. The <span class="i">Dazzler</span> was short one in its crew, and he +had to do more work than was justly his share. He did not mind the +cooking, nor the washing down of the decks and the pumping; but when +it came to the paint-scrubbing and dishwashing he rebelled. He felt +that he had earned the right to be exempt from such scullion work. +That was all the green boys were fit for, while he could make or take +in sail, lift anchor, steer, and make landings.</p> + +<p>"Stan' from un'er!" Pete Le Maire or "French Pete," captain of the +<span class="i">Dazzler</span> and lord and master of 'Frisco Kid, threw a bundle into the +cockpit and came aboard by the starboard rigging.</p> + +<p>"Come! Queeck!" he shouted to the boy who owned the bundle and who now +hesitated on the dock. It was a good fifteen feet to the deck of the +sloop, and he could not reach the steel stay by which he must descend.</p> + +<p>"Now! One, two, three!" the Frenchman counted good-naturedly, after the +manner of captains when their crews are short-handed.</p> + +<p>The boy swung his body into space and gripped the rigging. A moment later +he struck the deck, his hands tingling warmly from the friction.</p> + +<p>"Kid, dis is ze new sailor. I make your acquaintance." French Pete +smirked and bowed, and stood aside. "Mistaire Sho Bronson," he added +as an afterthought.</p> + +<p>The two boys regarded each other silently for a moment. They were evidently +about the same age, though the stranger looked the heartier and stronger +of the two. 'Frisco Kid put out his hand, and they shook.</p> + +<p>"So you 're thinking of tackling the water, eh?" he said.</p> + +<p>Joe Bronson nodded and glanced curiously about him before answering: +"Yes; I think the bay life will suit me for a while, and then, when I 've +got used to it, I 'm going to sea in the forecastle."</p> + +<p>"In the what?"</p> + +<p>"In the forecastle—the place where the sailors live," he explained, +flushing and feeling doubtful of his pronunciation.</p> + +<p>"Oh, the fo'c'sle. Know anything about going to sea?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—no; that is, except what I 've read."</p> + +<p>'Frisco Kid whistled, turned on his heel in a lordly manner, and went +into the cabin.</p> + +<p>"Going to sea," he chuckled to himself as he built the fire and set about +cooking supper; "in the 'forecastle,' too; and thinks he 'll like it."</p> + +<p>In the meanwhile French Pete was showing the newcomer about the sloop +as though he were a guest. Such affability and charm did he display +that 'Frisco Kid, popping his head up through the scuttle to call them +to supper, nearly choked in his effort to suppress a grin.</p> + +<p>Joe Bronson enjoyed that supper. The food was rough but good, and the +smack of the salt air and the sea-fittings around him gave zest to his +appetite. The cabin was clean and snug, and, though not large, the +accommodations surprised him. Every bit of space was utilized. The table +swung to the centerboard-case on hinges, so that when not in use it +actually occupied no room at all. On either side and partly under the +deck were two bunks. The blankets were rolled back, and the boys sat on +the well-scrubbed bunk boards while they ate. A swinging sea-lamp of +brightly polished brass gave them light, which in the daytime could be +obtained through the four deadeyes, or small round panes of heavy glass +which were fitted into the walls of the cabin. On one side of the door +was the stove and wood-box, on the other the cupboard. The front end +of the cabin was ornamented with a couple of rifles and a shot-gun, +while exposed by the rolled-back blankets of French Pete's bunk was a +cartridge-lined belt carrying a brace of revolvers.</p> + +<p class="img"> +<img width="578" height="383" src="TCotD02.png" id="TCotD02.png" + title='Joe eats his first meal on the "Dazzler".' + alt="Three men sitting at a table talking below decks on a ship."> +</p> + +<p>It all seemed like a dream to Joe. Countless times he had imagined scenes +somewhat similar to this; but here he was right in the midst of it, and +already it seemed as though he had known his two companions for years. +French Pete was smiling genially at him across the board. It really was a +villainous countenance, but to Joe it seemed only weather-beaten. 'Frisco +Kid was describing to him, between mouthfuls, the last sou'easter the +<span class="i">Dazzler</span> had weathered, and Joe experienced an increasing awe for this +boy who had lived so long upon the water and knew so much about it.</p> + +<p>The captain, however, drank a glass of wine, and topped it off with a +second and a third, and then, a vicious flush lighting his swarthy face, +stretched out on top of his blankets, where he soon was snoring loudly.</p> + +<p>"Better turn in and get a couple of hours' sleep," 'Frisco Kid said +kindly, pointing Joe's bunk out to him. "We 'll most likely be up the +rest of the night."</p> + +<p>Joe obeyed, but he could not fall asleep so readily as the others. He +lay with his eyes wide open, watching the hands of the alarm-clock that +hung in the cabin, and thinking how quickly event had followed event in +the last twelve hours. Only that very morning he had been a school-boy, +and now he was a sailor, shipped on the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> and bound he knew not +whither. His fifteen years increased to twenty at the thought of it, and +he felt every inch a man—a sailorman at that. He wished Charley and +Fred could see him now. Well, they would hear of it soon enough. He could +see them talking it over, and the other boys crowding around. "Who?" "Oh, +Joe Bronson; he 's gone to sea. Used to chum with us."</p> + +<p>Joe pictured the scene proudly. Then he softened at the thought of his +mother worrying, but hardened again at the recollection of his father. +Not that his father was not good and kind; but he did not understand boys, +Joe thought. That was where the trouble lay. Only that morning he had +said that the world was n't a play-ground, and that the boys who thought +it was were liable to make sore mistakes and be glad to get home again. +Well, <span class="i">he</span> knew that there was plenty of hard work and rough experience +in the world; but <span class="i">he</span> also thought boys had some rights. He 'd show him +he could take care of himself; and, anyway, he could write home after he +got settled down to his new life.</p> + +<HR class="medium"> + +<p class="chapter-head" id="Chapter_IX">CHAPTER IX</p> + +<p class="chapter-sub">ABOARD THE DAZZLER</p> + +<p>A skiff grazed the side of the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> softly and interrupted Joe's +reveries. He wondered why he had not heard the sound of the oars in +the rowlocks. Then two men jumped over the cockpit-rail and came into +the cabin.</p> + +<p>"Bli' me, if 'ere they ain't snoozin'," said the first of the newcomers, +deftly rolling 'Frisco Kid out of his blankets with one hand and reaching +for the wine-bottle with the other.</p> + +<p>French Pete put his head up on the other side of the centerboard, his eyes +heavy with sleep, and made them welcome.</p> + +<p>"'Oo 's this?" asked the Cockney, as he was called, smacking his lips over +the wine and rolling Joe out upon the floor. "Passenger?"</p> + +<p>"No, no," French Pete made haste to answer. "Ze new sailorman. Vaire +good boy."</p> + +<p>"Good boy or not, he 's got to keep his tongue atween his teeth," growled +the second newcomer, who had not yet spoken, glaring fiercely at Joe.</p> + +<p>"I say," queried the other man, "'ow does 'e whack up on the loot? I 'ope +as me and Bill 'ave a square deal."</p> + +<p>"Ze <span class="i">Dazzler</span> she take one share—what you call—one third; den we split +ze rest in five shares. Five men, five shares. Vaire good."</p> + +<p>French Pete insisted in excited gibberish that the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> had the +right to have three men in its crew, and appealed to 'Frisco Kid to +bear him out. But the latter left them to fight it over by themselves, +and proceeded to make hot coffee.</p> + +<p>It was all Greek to Joe, except he knew that he was in some way the cause +of the quarrel. In the end French Pete had his way, and the newcomers gave +in after much grumbling. After they had drunk their coffee, all hands went +on deck.</p> + +<p>"Just stay in the cockpit and keep out of their way," 'Frisco Kid whispered +to Joe. "I 'll teach you about the ropes and everything when we ain't in a +hurry."</p> + +<p>Joe's heart went out to him in sudden gratitude, for the strange feeling +came to him that of those on board, to 'Frisco Kid, and to 'Frisco Kid +only, could he look for help in time of need. Already a dislike for +French Pete was growing up within him. Why, he could not say; he just +simply felt it.</p> + +<p>A creaking of blocks for'ard, and the huge mainsail loomed above him +in the night. Bill cast off the bowline, the Cockney followed suit with +the stern, 'Frisco Kid gave her the jib as French Pete jammed up the +tiller, and the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> caught the breeze, heeling over for mid-channel. +Joe heard talk of not putting up the side-lights, and of keeping a sharp +lookout, though all he could comprehend was that some law of navigation +was being violated.</p> + +<p>The water-front lights of Oakland began to slip past. Soon the stretches +of docks and the shadowy ships began to be broken by dim sweeps of +marshland, and Joe knew that they were heading out for San Francisco Bay. +The wind was blowing from the north in mild squalls, and the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> cut +noiselessly through the landlocked water.</p> + +<p>"Where are we going?" Joe asked the Cockney, in an endeavor to be friendly +and at the same time satisfy his curiosity.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my pardner 'ere, Bill, we 're goin' to take a cargo from 'is factory," +that worthy airily replied.</p> + +<p>Joe thought he was rather a funny-looking individual to own a factory; +but, conscious that even stranger things might be found in this new +world he was entering, he said nothing. He had already exposed himself +to 'Frisco Kid in the matter of his pronunciation of "fo'c'sle," and +he had no desire further to advertise his ignorance.</p> + +<p>A little after that he was sent in to blow out the cabin lamp. The +<span class="i">Dazzler</span> tacked about and began to work in toward the north shore. +Everybody kept silent, save for occasional whispered questions and +answers which passed between Bill and the captain. Finally the sloop +was run into the wind, and the jib and mainsail lowered cautiously.</p> + +<p>"Short hawse," French Pete whispered to 'Frisco Kid, who went for'ard +and dropped the anchor, paying out the slightest quantity of slack.</p> + +<p>The <span class="i">Dazzler's</span> skiff was brought alongside, as was also the small boat +in which the two strangers had come aboard.</p> + +<p>"See that that cub don't make a fuss," Bill commanded in an undertone, +as he joined his partner in his own boat.</p> + +<p>"Can you row?" 'Frisco Kid asked as they got into the other boat.</p> + +<p>Joe nodded his head.</p> + +<p>"Then take these oars, and don't make a racket."</p> + +<p>'Frisco Kid took the second pair, while French Pete steered. Joe noticed +that the oars were muffled with sennit, and that even the rowlock sockets +were protected with leather. It was impossible to make a noise except by +a mis-stroke, and Joe had learned to row on Lake Merrit well enough to +avoid that. They followed in the wake of the first boat, and, glancing +aside, he saw they were running along the length of a pier which jutted +out from the land. A couple of ships, with riding-lanterns burning +brightly, were moored to it, but they kept just beyond the edge of the +light. He stopped rowing at the whispered command of 'Frisco Kid. Then +the boats grounded like ghosts on a tiny beach, and they clambered out.</p> + +<p>Joe followed the men, who picked their way carefully up a twenty-foot +bank. At the top he found himself on a narrow railway track which ran +between huge piles of rusty scrap-iron. These piles, separated by tracks, +extended in every direction he could not tell how far, though in the +distance he could see the vague outlines of some great factory-like +building. The men began to carry loads of the iron down to the beach, +and French Pete, gripping him by the arm and again warning him not to +make any noise, told him to do likewise. At the beach they turned their +burdens over to 'Frisco Kid, who loaded them, first in the one skiff and +then in the other. As the boats settled under the weight, he kept pushing +them farther and farther out, in order that they should keep clear of +the bottom.</p> + +<p>Joe worked away steadily, though he could not help marveling at the +queerness of the whole business. Why should there be such a mystery +about it? and why such care taken to maintain silence? He had just +begun to ask himself these questions, and a horrible suspicion was +forming itself in his mind, when he heard the hoot of an owl from the +direction of the beach. Wondering at an owl being in so unlikely a +place, he stooped to gather a fresh load of iron. But suddenly a man +sprang out of the gloom, flashing a dark lantern full upon him. Blinded +by the light, he staggered back. Then a revolver in the man's hand went +off like the roar of a cannon. All Joe realized was that he was being +shot at, while his legs manifested an overwhelming desire to get away. +Even if he had so wished, he could not very well have stayed to explain +to the excited man with the smoking revolver. So he took to his heels +for the beach, colliding with another man with a dark lantern who came +running around the end of one of the piles of iron. This second man +quickly regained his feet, and peppered away at Joe as he flew down +the bank.</p> + +<p>He dashed out into the water for the boat. French Pete at the bow-oars and +'Frisco Kid at the stroke had the skiff's nose pointed seaward and were +calmly awaiting his arrival. They had their oars ready for the start, but +they held them quietly at rest, for all that both men on the bank had begun +to fire at them. The other skiff lay closer inshore, partially aground. +Bill was trying to shove it off, and was calling on the Cockney to lend a +hand; but that gentleman had lost his head completely, and came floundering +through the water hard after Joe. No sooner had Joe climbed in over the +stern than he followed him. This extra weight on the stern of the heavily +loaded craft nearly swamped them. As it was, a dangerous quantity of water +was shipped. In the meantime the men on the bank had reloaded their pistols +and opened fire again, this time with better aim. The alarm had spread. +Voices and cries could be heard from the ships on the pier, along which +men were running. In the distance a police whistle was being frantically +blown.</p> + +<p>"Get out!" 'Frisco Kid shouted. "You ain't a-going to sink us if I know +it. Go and help your pardner."</p> + +<p>But the Cockney's teeth were chattering with fright, and he was too +unnerved to move or speak.</p> + +<p>"T'row ze crazy man out!" French Pete ordered from the bow. At this moment +a bullet shattered an oar in his hand, and he coolly proceeded to ship a +spare one.</p> + +<p>"Give us a hand, Joe," 'Frisco Kid commanded.</p> + +<p>Joe understood, and together they seized the terror-stricken creature +and flung him overboard. Two or three bullets splashed about him as he +came to the surface, just in time to be picked up by Bill, who had at +last succeeded in getting clear.</p> + +<p>"Now!" French Pete called, and a few strokes into the darkness quickly +took them out of the zone of fire.</p> + +<p>So much water had been shipped that the light skiff was in danger of +sinking at any moment. While the other two rowed, and by the Frenchman's +orders, Joe began to throw out the iron. This saved them for the time +being. But just as they swept alongside the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> the skiff lurched, +shoved a side under, and turned turtle, sending the remainder of the iron +to bottom. Joe and 'Frisco Kid came up side by side, and together they +clambered aboard with the skiff's painter in tow. French Pete had already +arrived, and now helped them out.</p> + +<p>By the time they had canted the water out of the swamped boat, Bill and +his partner appeared on the scene. All hands worked rapidly, and, almost +before Joe could realize, the mainsail and jib had been hoisted, the +anchor broken out, and the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> was leaping down the channel. Off +a bleak piece of marshland Bill and the Cockney said good-by and cast +loose in their skiff. French Pete, in the cabin, bewailed their bad luck +in various languages, and sought consolation in the wine-bottle.</p> + +<HR class="medium"> + +<p class="chapter-head" id="Chapter_X">CHAPTER X</p> + +<p class="chapter-sub">WITH THE BAY PIRATES</p> + +<p>The wind freshened as they got clear of the land, and soon the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> +was heeling it with her lee deck buried and the water churning by, +half-way up the cockpit-rail. Side-lights had been hung out. 'Frisco +Kid was steering, and by his side sat Joe, pondering over the events +of the night.</p> + +<p>He could no longer blind himself to the facts. His mind was in a whirl +of apprehension. If he had done wrong, he reasoned, he had done it +through ignorance; and he did not feel shame for the past so much as +he did fear for the future. His companions were thieves and robbers—the +bay pirates, of whose wild deeds he had heard vague tales. And here he +was, right in the midst of them, already possessing information which +could send them to State's prison. This very fact, he knew, would force +them to keep a sharp watch upon him and so lessen his chances of escape. +But escape he would, at the very first opportunity.</p> + +<p>At this point his thoughts were interrupted by a sharp squall, which +hurled the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> over till the sea rushed inboard. 'Frisco Kid +luffed quickly, at the same time slacking off the main-sheet. Then, +single-handed,—for French Pete remained below,—and with Joe looking +idly on, he proceeded to reef down.</p> + +<p>The squall which had so nearly capsized the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> was of short +duration, but it marked the rising of the wind, and soon puff after +puff was shrieking down upon them out of the north. The mainsail was +spilling the wind, and slapping and thrashing about till it seemed it +would tear itself to pieces. The sloop was rolling wildly in the quick +sea which had come up. Everything was in confusion; but even Joe's +untrained eye showed him that it was an orderly confusion. He could +see that 'Frisco Kid knew just what to do and just how to do it. As +he watched him he learned a lesson, the lack of which has made failures +of the lives of many men—<span class="i">the value of knowledge of one's own capacities</span>. +'Frisco Kid knew what he was able to do, and because of this he had +confidence in himself. He was cool and self-possessed, working hurriedly +but not carelessly. There was no bungling. Every reef-point was drawn +down to stay. Other accidents might occur, but the next squall, or the +next forty squalls, would not carry one of those reef-knots away.</p> + +<p>He called Joe for'ard to help stretch the mainsail by means of swinging +on the peak and throat-halyards. To lay out on the long bowsprit and put +a single reef in the jib was a slight task compared with what had been +already accomplished; so a few moments later they were again in the +cockpit. Under the other lad's directions, Joe flattened down the +jib-sheet, and, going into the cabin, let down a foot or so of centerboard. +The excitement of the struggle had chased all unpleasant thoughts from +his mind. Patterning after the other boy, he had retained his coolness. +He had executed his orders without fumbling, and at the same time without +undue slowness. Together they had exerted their puny strength in the face +of violent nature, and together they had outwitted her.</p> + +<p>He came back to where his companion stood at the tiller steering, and he +felt proud of him and of himself; and when he read the unspoken praise +in 'Frisco Kid's eyes he blushed like a girl at her first compliment. But +the next instant the thought flashed across him that this boy was a thief, +a common thief; and he instinctively recoiled. His whole life had been +sheltered from the harsher things of the world. His reading, which had +been of the best, had laid a premium upon honesty and uprightness, and he +had learned to look with abhorrence upon the criminal classes. So he drew +a little away from 'Frisco Kid and remained silent. But 'Frisco Kid, +devoting all his energies to the handling of the sloop, had no time in +which to remark this sudden change of feeling on the part of his companion.</p> + +<p>But there was one thing Joe found in himself that surprised him. While the +thought of 'Frisco Kid being a thief was repulsive to him, 'Frisco Kid +himself was not. Instead of feeling an honest desire to shun him, he felt +drawn toward him. He could not help liking him, though he knew not why. +Had he been a little older he would have understood that it was the lad's +good qualities which appealed to him—his coolness and self-reliance, his +manliness and bravery, and a certain kindliness and sympathy in his nature. +As it was, he thought it his own natural badness which prevented him from +disliking 'Frisco Kid; but, while he felt shame at his own weakness, he +could not smother the warm regard which he felt growing up for this +particular bay pirate.</p> + +<p>"Take in two or three feet on the skiff's painter," commanded 'Frisco Kid, +who had an eye for everything.</p> + +<p>The skiff was towing with too long a painter, and was behaving very badly. +Every once in a while it would hold back till the tow-rope tautened, then +come leaping ahead and sheering and dropping slack till it threatened to +shove its nose under the huge whitecaps which roared so hungrily on every +hand. Joe climbed over the cockpit-rail to the slippery after-deck, and +made his way to the bitt to which the skiff was fastened.</p> + +<p>"Be careful," 'Frisco Kid warned, as a heavy puff struck the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> +and careened her dangerously over on her side. "Keep one turn round the +bitt, and heave in on it when the painter slacks."</p> + +<p>It was ticklish work for a greenhorn. Joe threw off all the turns save +the last, which he held with one hand, while with the other he attempted +to bring in on the painter. But at that instant it tightened with a +tremendous jerk, the boat sheering sharply into the crest of a heavy +sea. The rope slipped from his hands and began to fly out over the stern. +He clutched it frantically, and was dragged after it over the sloping deck.</p> + +<p>"Let her go! Let her go!" 'Frisco Kid shouted.</p> + +<p>Joe let go just as he was on the verge of going overboard, and the skiff +dropped rapidly astern. He glanced in a shamefaced way at his companion, +expecting to be sharply reprimanded for his awkwardness. But 'Frisco Kid +smiled good-naturedly.</p> + +<p>"That 's all right," he said. "No bones broke and nobody overboard. +Better to lose a boat than a man any day; that 's what I say. Besides, +I should n't have sent you out there. And there 's no harm done. We can +pick it up all right. Go in and drop some more centerboard,—a couple of +feet,—and then come out and do what I tell you. But don't be in a hurry. +Take it easy and sure."</p> + +<p>Joe dropped the centerboard and returned, to be stationed at the jib-sheet.</p> + +<p>"Hard a-lee!" 'Frisco Kid cried, throwing the tiller down, and following +it with his body. "Cast off! That 's right. Now lend a hand on the +main-sheet!"</p> + +<p>Together, hand over hand, they came in on the reefed mainsail. Joe began +to warm up with the work. The <span class="i">Dazzler</span> turned on her heel like a +race-horse, and swept into the wind, her canvas snarling and her sheets +slatting like hail.</p> + +<p>"Draw down the jib-sheet!"</p> + +<p>Joe obeyed, and, the head-sail filling, forced her off on the other tack. +This manoeuver had turned French Pete's bunk from the lee to the weather +side, and rolled him out on the cabin floor, where he lay in a drunken +stupor.</p> + +<p>'Frisco Kid, with his back against the tiller and holding the sloop off +that it might cover their previous course, looked at him with an expression +of disgust, and muttered: "The dog! We could well go to the bottom, for +all he 'd care or do!"</p> + +<p>Twice they tacked, trying to go over the same ground; and then Joe +discovered the skiff bobbing to windward in the star-lit darkness.</p> + +<p>"Plenty of time," 'Frisco Kid cautioned, shooting the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> into the +wind toward it and gradually losing headway. "Now!"</p> + +<p>Joe leaned over the side, grasped the trailing painter, and made it fast +to the bitt. Then they tacked ship again and started on their way. Joe +still felt ashamed for the trouble he had caused; but 'Frisco Kid quickly +put him at ease.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that 's nothing," he said. "Everybody does that when they 're +beginning. Now some men forget all about the trouble they had in +learning, and get mad when a greeny makes a mistake. I never do. Why, +I remember—"</p> + +<p>And then he told Joe of many of the mishaps which fell to him when, as +a little lad, he first went on the water, and of some of the severe +punishments for the same which were measured out to him. He had passed +the running end of a lanyard over the tiller-neck, and as they talked +they sat side by side and close against each other in the shelter of +the cockpit.</p> + +<p class="img"> +<img width="580" height="368" src="TCotD03.png" id="TCotD03.png" + title='They sat side by side in the shelter of the cockpit.' + alt="Two men in raingear sitting together in the stern of a ship at sea."> +</p> + +<p>"What place is that?" Joe asked, as they flew by a lighthouse blinking +from a rocky headland.</p> + +<p>"Goat Island. They 've got a naval training station for boys over on +the other side, and a torpedo-magazine. There 's jolly good fishing, +too—rock-cod. We 'll pass to the lee of it, and make across, and +anchor in the shelter of Angel Island. There 's a quarantine station +there. Then when French Pete gets sober we 'll know where he wants to +go. You can turn in now and get some sleep. I can manage all right."</p> + +<p>Joe shook his head. There had been too much excitement for him to feel +in the least like sleeping. He could not bear to think of it with the +<span class="i">Dazzler</span> leaping and surging along and shattering the seas into clouds +of spray on her weather bow. His clothes had half dried already, and he +preferred to stay on deck and enjoy it.</p> + +<p>The lights of Oakland had dwindled till they made only a hazy flare +against the sky; but to the south the San Francisco lights, topping +hills and sinking into valleys, stretched miles upon miles. Starting +from the great ferry building, and passing on to Telegraph Hill, Joe +was soon able to locate the principal places of the city. Somewhere +over in that maze of light and shadow was the home of his father, and +perhaps even now they were thinking and worrying about him; and over +there Bessie was sleeping cozily, to wake up in the morning and wonder +why her brother Joe did not come down to breakfast. Joe shivered. It +was almost morning. Then slowly his head dropped over on 'Frisco Kid's +shoulder and he was fast asleep.</p> + +<HR class="medium"> + +<p class="chapter-head" id="Chapter_XI">CHAPTER XI</p> + +<p class="chapter-sub">CAPTAIN AND CREW</p> + +<p>"Come! Wake up! We 're going into anchor."</p> + +<p>Joe roused with a start, bewildered at the unusual scene; for sleep had +banished his troubles for the time being, and he knew not where he was. +Then he remembered. The wind had dropped with the night. Beyond, the +heavy after-sea was still rolling; but the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> was creeping up in +the shelter of a rocky island. The sky was clear, and the air had the +snap and vigor of early morning about it. The rippling water was laughing +in the rays of the sun just shouldering above the eastern sky-line. To +the south lay Alcatraz Island, and from its gun-crowned heights a flourish +of trumpets saluted the day. In the west the Golden Gate yawned between +the Pacific Ocean and San Francisco Bay. A full-rigged ship, with her +lightest canvas, even to the sky-sails, set, was coming slowly in on the +flood-tide.</p> + +<p>It was a pretty sight. Joe rubbed the sleep from his eyes and drank in +the glory of it till 'Frisco Kid told him to go for'ard and make ready +for dropping the anchor.</p> + +<p>"Overhaul about fifty fathoms of chain," he ordered, "and then stand by." +He eased the sloop gently into the wind, at the same time casting off +the jib-sheet. "Let go the jib-halyards and come in on the downhaul!"</p> + +<p>Joe had seen the manoeuver performed the previous night, and so was able +to carry it out with fair success.</p> + +<p>"Now! Over with the mud-hook! Watch out for turns! Lively, now!"</p> + +<p>The chain flew out with startling rapidity and brought the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> +to rest. 'Frisco Kid went for'ard to help, and together they lowered +the mainsail, furled it in shipshape manner and made all fast with the +gaskets, and put the crutches under the main-boom.</p> + +<p>"Here 's a bucket," said 'Frisco Kid, as he passed him the article in +question. "Wash down the decks, and don't be afraid of the water, nor +of the dirt either. Here 's a broom. Give it what for, and have everything +shining. When you get that done bail out the skiff. She opened her seams +a little last night. I 'm going below to cook breakfast."</p> + +<p>The water was soon slushing merrily over the deck, while the smoke pouring +from the cabin stove carried a promise of good things to come. Time and +again Joe lifted his head from his task to take in the scene. It was one +to appeal to any healthy boy, and he was no exception. The romance of it +stirred him strangely, and his happiness would have been complete could +he have escaped remembering who and what his companions were. The thought +of this, and of French Pete in his bleary sleep below, marred the beauty +of the day. He had been unused to such things and was shocked at the harsh +reality of life. But instead of hurting him, as it might a lad of weaker +nature, it had the opposite effect. It strengthened his desire to be clean +and strong, and to not be ashamed of himself in his own eyes. He glanced +about him and sighed. Why could not men be honest and true? It seemed too +bad that he must go away and leave all this; but the events of the night +were strong upon him, and he knew that in order to be true to himself +he must escape.</p> + +<p>At this juncture he was called to breakfast. He discovered that 'Frisco +Kid was as good a cook as he was a sailor, and made haste to do justice +to the fare. There were mush and condensed milk, beefsteak and fried +potatoes, and all topped off with good French bread, butter, and coffee. +French Pete did not join them, though 'Frisco Kid attempted a couple of +times to rouse him. He mumbled and grunted, half opened his bleared eyes, +then fell to snoring again.</p> + +<p>"Can't tell when he 's going to get those spells," 'Frisco Kid explained, +when Joe, having finished washing dishes, came on deck. "Sometimes he +won't get that way for a month, and others he won't be decent for a +week at a stretch. Sometimes he 's good-natured, and sometimes he 's +dangerous; so the best thing to do is to let him alone and keep out of +his way; and don't cross him, for if you do there 's liable to be trouble.</p> + +<p>"Come on; let 's take a swim," he added, abruptly changing the subject +to one more agreeable. "Can you swim?"</p> + +<p>Joe nodded.</p> + +<p>"What 's that place?" he asked, as he poised before diving, pointing toward +a sheltered beach on the island where there were several buildings and a +large number of tents.</p> + +<p>"Quarantine station. Lots of smallpox coming in now on the China steamers, +and they make them go there till the doctors say they 're safe to land. I +tell you, they 're strict about it, too. Why—"</p> + +<p>Splash! Had 'Frisco Kid finished his sentence just then, instead of diving +overboard, much trouble might have been saved to Joe. But he did not finish +it, and Joe dived after him.</p> + +<p>"I 'll tell you what," 'Frisco Kid suggested half an hour later, while they +clung to the bobstay preparatory to climbing out. "Let 's catch a mess of +fish for dinner, and then turn in and make up for the sleep we lost last +night. What d' you say?"</p> + +<p>They made a race to clamber aboard, but Joe was shoved over the side again. +When he finally did arrive, the other lad had brought to light a pair of +heavily leaded, large-hooked lines and a mackerel-keg of salt sardines.</p> + +<p>"Bait," he said. "Just shove a whole one on. They 're not a bit partic'lar. +Swallow the bait, hook and all, and go—that 's their caper. The fellow +that does n't catch the first fish has to clean 'em."</p> + +<p>Both sinkers started on their long descent together, and seventy feet of +line whizzed out before they came to rest. But at the instant his sinker +touched the bottom Joe felt the struggling jerks of a hooked fish. As +he began to haul in he glanced at 'Frisco Kid and saw that he too had +evidently captured a finny prize. The race between them was exciting. +Hand over hand the wet lines flashed inboard. But 'Frisco Kid was more +expert, and his fish tumbled into the cockpit first. Joe's followed an +instant later—a three-pound rock-cod. He was wild with joy. It was +magnificent—the largest fish he had ever landed or ever seen landed. +Over went the lines again, and up they came with two mates of the ones +already captured. It was sport royal. Joe would certainly have continued +till he had fished the bay empty, had not 'Frisco Kid persuaded him +to stop.</p> + +<p>"We 've got enough for three meals now," he said, "so there 's no use in +having them spoil. Besides, the more you catch the more you clean, and +you 'd better start in right away. I 'm going to bed."</p> + +<HR class="medium"> + +<p class="chapter-head" id="Chapter_XII">CHAPTER XII</p> + +<p class="chapter-sub">JOE TRIES TO TAKE FRENCH LEAVE</p> + +<p>Joe did not mind. In fact, he was glad he had not caught the first fish, +for it helped out a little plan which had come to him while swimming. He +threw the last cleaned fish into a bucket of water and glanced about him. +The quarantine station was a bare half-mile away, and he could make out +a soldier pacing up and down at sentry duty on the beach. Going into the +cabin, he listened to the heavy breathing of the sleepers. He had to pass +so close to 'Frisco Kid to get his bundle of clothes that he decided not +to take it. Returning outside, he carefully pulled the skiff alongside, +got aboard with a pair of oars, and cast off.</p> + +<p>At first he rowed very gently in the direction of the station, fearing +the chance of noise if he made undue haste. But gradually he increased +the strength of his strokes till he had settled down to the regular +stride. When he had covered half the distance he glanced about. Escape +was sure now, for he knew, even if he were discovered, that it would be +impossible for the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> to get under way and head him off before he +made the land and the protection of that man who wore the uniform of +Uncle Sam's soldiers.</p> + +<p>The report of a gun came to him from the shore, but his back was in that +direction and he did not bother to turn around. A second report followed, +and a bullet cut the water within a couple of feet of his oar-blade. This +time he did turn around. The soldier on the beach was leveling his rifle +at him for a third shot.</p> + +<p>Joe was in a predicament, and a very tantalizing one at that. A few +minutes of hard rowing would bring him to the beach and to safety; but +on that beach, for some unaccountable reason, stood a United States +soldier who persisted in firing at him. When Joe saw the gun aimed at +him for the third time, he backed water hastily. As a result, the skiff +came to a standstill, and the soldier, lowering his rifle, regarded +him intently.</p> + +<p>"I want to come ashore! Important!" Joe shouted out to him.</p> + +<p>The man in uniform shook his head.</p> + +<p>"But it 's important, I tell you! Won't you let me come ashore?"</p> + +<p>He took a hurried look in the direction of the <span class="i">Dazzler</span>. The shots had +evidently awakened French Pete, for the mainsail had been hoisted, and +as he looked he saw the anchor broken out and the jib flung to the breeze.</p> + +<p>"Can't land here!" the soldier shouted back. "Smallpox!"</p> + +<p>"But I must!" he cried, choking down a half-sob and preparing to row.</p> + +<p>"Then I 'll shoot you," was the cheering response, and the rifle came to +shoulder again.</p> + +<p>Joe thought rapidly. The island was large. Perhaps there were no soldiers +farther on, and if he only once got ashore he did not care how quickly +they captured him. He might catch the smallpox, but even that was better +than going back to the bay pirates. He whirled the skiff half about to +the right, and threw all his strength against the oars. The cove was quite +wide, and the nearest point which he must go around a good distance away. +Had he been more of a sailor, he would have gone in the other direction +for the opposite point, and thus had the wind on his pursuers. As it was, +the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> had a beam wind in which to overtake him.</p> + +<p>It was nip and tuck for a while. The breeze was light and not very steady, +so sometimes he gained and sometimes they. Once it freshened till the sloop +was within a hundred yards of him, and then it dropped suddenly flat, the +<span class="i">Dazzler's</span> big mainsail flapping idly from side to side.</p> + +<p>"Ah! you steal ze skiff, eh?" French Pete howled at him, running into the +cabin for his rifle. "I fix you! You come back queeck, or I kill you!" But +he knew the soldier was watching them from the shore, and did not dare to +fire, even over the lad's head.</p> + +<p>Joe did not think of this, for he, who had never been shot at in all his +previous life, had been under fire twice in the last twenty-four hours. +Once more or less could n't amount to much. So he pulled steadily away, +while French Pete raved like a wild man, threatening him with all manner +of punishments once he laid hands upon him again. To complicate matters, +'Frisco Kid waxed mutinous.</p> + +<p>"Just you shoot him, and I 'll see you hung for it—see if I don't," he +threatened. "You 'd better let him go. He 's a good boy and all right, +and not raised for the dirty life you and I are leading."</p> + +<p>"You too, eh!" the Frenchman shrieked, beside himself with rage. "Den I +fix you, you rat!"</p> + +<p>He made a rush for the boy, but 'Frisco Kid led him a lively chase from +cockpit to bowsprit and back again. A sharp capful of wind arriving just +then, French Pete abandoned the one chase for the other. Springing to the +tiller and slacking away on the main-sheet,—for the wind favored,—he +headed the sloop down upon Joe. The latter made one tremendous spurt, +then gave up in despair and hauled in his oars. French Pete let go the +main-sheet, lost steerageway as he rounded up alongside the motionless +skiff, and dragged Joe out.</p> + +<p>"Keep mum," 'Frisco Kid whispered to him while the irate Frenchman was +busy fastening the painter. "Don't talk back. Let him say all he wants +to, and keep quiet. It 'll be better for you."</p> + +<p>But Joe's Anglo-Saxon blood was up, and he did not heed.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Mr. French Pete, or whatever your name is," he commenced; "I +give you to understand that I want to quit, and that I 'm going to quit. +So you 'd better put me ashore at once. If you don't I 'll put you in +prison, or my name 's not Joe Bronson."</p> + +<p>'Frisco Kid waited the outcome fearfully. French Pete was aghast. He was +being defied aboard his own vessel—and by a boy! Never had such a thing +been heard of. He knew he was committing an unlawful act in detaining him, +but at the same time he was afraid to let him go with the information he +had gathered concerning the sloop and its occupation. The boy had spoken +the unpleasant truth when he said he could send him to prison. The only +thing for him to do was to bully him.</p> + +<p>"You will, eh?" His shrill voice rose wrathfully. "Den you come too. You +row ze boat last-a night—answer me dat! You steal ze iron—answer me +dat! You run away—answer me dat! And den you say you put me in jail? Bah!"</p> + +<p>"But I did n't know," Joe protested.</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha! Dat is funny. You tell dat to ze judge; mebbe him laugh, eh?"</p> + +<p>"I say I did n't," he reiterated manfully. "I did n't know I 'd shipped +along with a lot of thieves."</p> + +<p>'Frisco Kid winced at this epithet, and had Joe been looking at him he +would have seen a red flush mount to his face.</p> + +<p>"And now that I do know," he continued, "I wish to be put ashore. I don't +know anything about the law, but I do know something of right and wrong; +and I 'm willing to take my chance with any judge for whatever wrong I +have done—with all the judges in the United States, for that matter. +And that 's more than you can say, Mr. Pete."</p> + +<p>"You say dat, eh? Vaire good. But you are one big t'ief—"</p> + +<p>"I 'm not—don't you dare call me that again!" Joe's face was pale, and he +was trembling—but not with fear.</p> + +<p>"T'ief!" the Frenchman taunted back.</p> + +<p>"You lie!"</p> + +<p>Joe had not been a boy among boys for nothing. He knew the penalty which +attached itself to the words he had just spoken, and he expected to receive +it. So he was not overmuch surprised when he picked himself up from the +floor of the cockpit an instant later, his head still ringing from a stiff +blow between the eyes.</p> + +<p>"Say dat one time more," French Pete bullied, his fist raised and prepared +to strike.</p> + +<p>Tears of anger stood in Joe's eyes, but he was calm and in deadly earnest. +"When you say I am a thief, Pete, you lie. You can kill me, but still I +will say you lie."</p> + +<p>"No, you don't!" 'Frisco Kid had darted in like a cat, preventing a second +blow, and shoving the Frenchman back across the cockpit.</p> + +<p>"You leave the boy alone!" he continued, suddenly unshipping and arming +himself with the heavy iron tiller, and standing between them. "This thing +'s gone just about as far as it 's going to go. You big fool, can't you +see the stuff the boy 's made of? He speaks true. He 's right, and he +knows it, and you could kill him and he would n't give in. There 's my +hand on it, Joe." He turned and extended his hand to Joe, who returned +the grip. "You 've got spunk and you 're not afraid to show it."</p> + +<p>French Pete's mouth twisted itself in a sickly smile, but the evil gleam +in his eyes gave it the lie. He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Ah! So? +He does not dee-sire dat I call him pet names. Ha, ha! It is only ze +sailorman play. Let us—what you call—forgive and forget, eh? Vaire good; +forgive and forget."</p> + +<p>He reached out his hand, but Joe refused to take it. 'Frisco Kid nodded +approval, while French Pete, still shrugging his shoulders and smiling, +passed into the cabin.</p> + +<p>"Slack off ze main-sheet," he called out, "and run down for Hunter's Point. +For one time I will cook ze dinner, and den you will say dat it is ze +vaire good dinner. Ah! French Pete is ze great cook!"</p> + +<p>"That 's the way he always does—gets real good and cooks when he wants +to make up," 'Frisco Kid hazarded, slipping the tiller into the rudder-head +and obeying the order. "But even then you can't trust him."</p> + +<p>Joe nodded his head, but did not speak. He was in no mood for conversation. +He was still trembling from the excitement of the last few moments, while +deep down he questioned himself on how he had behaved, and found nothing +to be ashamed of.</p> + +<HR class="medium"> + +<p class="chapter-head" id="Chapter_XIII">CHAPTER XIII</p> + +<p class="chapter-sub">BEFRIENDING EACH OTHER</p> + +<p>The afternoon sea-breeze had sprung up and was now rioting in from the +Pacific. Angel Island was fast dropping astern, and the water-front of +San Francisco showing up, as the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> plowed along before it. Soon +they were in the midst of the shipping, passing in and out among the +vessels which had come from the ends of the earth. Later they crossed +the fairway, where the ferry steamers, crowded with passengers, passed to +and fro between San Francisco and Oakland. One came so close that the +passengers crowded to the side to see the gallant little sloop and the two +boys in the cockpit. Joe gazed enviously at the row of down-turned faces. +They were all going to their homes, while he—he was going he knew not +whither, at the will of French Pete. He was half tempted to cry out for +help; but the foolishness of such an act struck him, and he held his +tongue. Turning his head, his eyes wandered along the smoky heights of +the city, and he fell to musing on the strange way of men and ships on +the sea.</p> + +<p>'Frisco Kid watched him from the corner of his eye, following his thoughts +as accurately as though he spoke them aloud.</p> + +<p>"Got a home over there somewheres?" he queried suddenly, waving his hand +in the direction of the city.</p> + +<p>Joe started, so correctly had his thought been guessed. "Yes," he said +simply.</p> + +<p>"Tell us about it."</p> + +<p>Joe rapidly described his home, though forced to go into greater detail +because of the curious questions of his companion. 'Frisco Kid was +interested in everything, especially in Mrs. Bronson and Bessie. Of the +latter he could not seem to tire, and poured forth question after question +concerning her. So peculiar and artless were some of them that Joe could +hardly forbear to smile.</p> + +<p>"Now tell me about yours," he said when he at last had finished.</p> + +<p>'Frisco Kid seemed suddenly to harden, and his face took on a stern look +which the other had never seen there before. He swung his foot idly to +and fro, and lifted a dull eye aloft to the main-peak blocks, with which, +by the way, there was nothing the matter.</p> + +<p>"Go ahead," the other encouraged.</p> + +<p>"I have n't no home."</p> + +<p>The four words left his mouth as though they had been forcibly ejected, +and his lips came together after them almost with a snap.</p> + +<p>Joe saw he had touched a tender spot, and strove to ease the way out of +it again. "Then the home you did have." He did not dream that there were +lads in the world who never had known homes, or that he had only succeeded +in probing deeper.</p> + +<p>"Never had none."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" His interest was aroused, and he now threw solicitude to the winds. +"Any sisters?"</p> + +<p>"Nope."</p> + +<p>"Mother?"</p> + +<p>"I was so young when she died that I don't remember her."</p> + +<p>"Father?"</p> + +<p>"I never saw much of him. He went to sea—anyhow, he disappeared."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" Joe did not know what to say, and an oppressive silence, broken only +by the churn of the <span class="i">Dazzler's</span> forefoot, fell upon them.</p> + +<p>Just then Pete came out to relieve at the tiller while they went in to eat. +Both lads hailed his advent with feelings of relief, and the awkwardness +vanished over the dinner, which was all their skipper had claimed it to be. +Afterward 'Frisco Kid relieved Pete, and while he was eating Joe washed up +the dishes and put the cabin shipshape. Then they all gathered in the +stern, where the captain strove to increase the general cordiality by +entertaining them with descriptions of life among the pearl-divers of +the South Seas.</p> + +<p>In this fashion the afternoon wore away. They had long since left San +Francisco behind, rounded Hunter's Point, and were now skirting the +San Mateo shore. Joe caught a glimpse, once, of a party of cyclists +rounding a cliff on the San Bruno Road, and remembered the time when +he had gone over the same ground on his own wheel. It was only a month +or two before, but it seemed an age to him now, so much had there been +to come between.</p> + +<p>By the time supper had been eaten and the things cleared away, they were +well down the bay, off the marshes behind which Redwood City clustered. +The wind had gone down with the sun, and the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> was making but +little headway, when they sighted a sloop bearing down upon them on the +dying wind. 'Frisco Kid instantly named it as the <span class="i">Reindeer</span>, to which +French Pete, after a deep scrutiny, agreed. He seemed very much pleased +at the meeting.</p> + +<p class="img"> +<img width="580" height="410" src="TCotD04.png" id="TCotD04.png" + title='`Frisco Kid instantly named it as the "Reindeer".' + alt="A ship in calm waters with another ship approaching nearby"> +</p> + +<p>"Red Nelson runs her," 'Frisco Kid informed Joe. "And he 's a terror and +no mistake. I 'm always afraid of him when he comes near. They 've got +something big down here, and they 're always after French Pete to tackle +it with them. He knows more about it, whatever it is."</p> + +<p>Joe nodded, and looked at the approaching craft curiously. Though somewhat +larger, it was built on about the same lines as the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> which meant, +above everything else, that it was built for speed. The mainsail was so +large that it was more like that of a racing-yacht, and it carried the +points for no less than three reefs in case of rough weather. Aloft and +on deck everything was in place—nothing was untidy or useless. From +running-gear to standing rigging, everything bore evidence of thorough +order and smart seamanship.</p> + +<p>The <span class="i">Reindeer</span> came up slowly in the gathering twilight and went to anchor +a biscuit-toss away. French Pete followed suit with the <span class="i">Dazzler</span>, and then +went in the skiff to pay them a visit. The two lads stretched themselves +out on top the cabin and awaited his return.</p> + +<p>"Do you like the life?" Joe broke silence.</p> + +<p>The other turned on his elbow. "Well—I do, and then again I don't. The +fresh air, and the salt water, and all that, and the freedom—that 's all +right; but I don't like the—the—" He paused a moment, as though his +tongue had failed in its duty, and then blurted out: "the stealing."</p> + +<p>"Then why don't you quit it?" Joe liked the lad more than he dared confess +to himself, and he felt a sudden missionary zeal come upon him.</p> + +<p>"I will just as soon as I can turn my hand to something else."</p> + +<p>"But why not now?"</p> + +<p><span class="i">Now is the accepted time</span> was ringing in Joe's ears, and if the other +wished to leave, it seemed a pity that he did not, and at once.</p> + +<p>"Where can I go? What can I do? There 's nobody in all the world to lend +me a hand, just as there never has been. I tried it once, and learned my +lesson too well to do it again in a hurry."</p> + +<p>"Well, when I get out of this I 'm going home. Guess my father was right, +after all. And I don't see, maybe—what 's the matter with you going with +me?" He said this last without thinking, impulsively, and 'Frisco Kid +knew it.</p> + +<p>"You don't know what you 're talking about," he answered. "Fancy me going +off with you! What 'd your father say? and—and the rest? How would he +think of me? And what 'd he do?"</p> + +<p>Joe felt sick at heart. He realized that in the spirit of the moment +he had given an invitation which, on sober thought, he knew would be +impossible to carry out. He tried to imagine his father receiving in +his own house a stranger like 'Frisco Kid—no, that was not to be +thought of. Then, forgetting his own plight, he fell to racking his +brains for some other method by which 'Frisco Kid could get away from +his present surroundings.</p> + +<p>"He might turn me over to the police," the other went on, "and send me to +a refuge. I 'd die first, before I 'd let that happen to me. And besides, +Joe, I 'm not of your kind, and you know it. Why, I 'd be like a fish out +of water, what with all the things I did n't know. Nope; I guess I 'll +have to wait a little before I strike out. But there 's only one thing +for you to do, and that 's to go straight home. First chance I get I 'll +land you, and then I 'll deal with French Pete—"</p> + +<p>"No, you don't," Joe interrupted hotly. "When I leave I 'm not going to +leave you in trouble on my account. So don't you try anything like that. +I 'll get away, never fear, and if I can figure it out I want you to +come along too; come along anyway, and figure it out afterward. What d' +you say?"</p> + +<p>'Frisco Kid shook his head, and, gazing up at the starlit heavens, +wandered off into dreams of the life he would like to lead but from +which he seemed inexorably shut out. The seriousness of life was +striking deeper than ever into Joe's heart, and he lay silent, +thinking hard. A mumble of heavy voices came to them from the +<span class="i">Reindeer</span>; and from the land the solemn notes of a church bell +floated across the water, while the summer night wrapped them +slowly in its warm darkness.</p> + +<HR class="medium"> + +<p class="chapter-head" id="Chapter_XIV">CHAPTER XIV</p> + +<p class="chapter-sub">AMONG THE OYSTER-BEDS</p> + +<p>Time and the world slipped away, and both boys were aroused by the harsh +voice of French Pete from the sleep into which they had fallen.</p> + +<p>"Get under way!" he was bawling. "Here, you Sho! Cast off ze gaskets! +Queeck! Lively! You Kid, ze jib!"</p> + +<p>Joe was clumsy in the darkness, not knowing the names of things and the +places where they were to be found; but he made fair progress, and when +he had tossed the gaskets into the cockpit was ordered forward to help +hoist the mainsail. After that the anchor was hove in and the jib set. +Then they coiled down the halyards and put everything in order before +they returned aft.</p> + +<p>"Vaire good, vaire good," the Frenchman praised, as Joe dropped in over +the rail. "Splendeed! You make ze good sailorman, I know for sure."</p> + +<p>'Frisco Kid lifted the cover of one of the cockpit lockers and glanced +questioningly at French Pete.</p> + +<p>"For sure," that mariner replied. "Put up ze side-lights."</p> + +<p>'Frisco Kid took the red and green lanterns into the cabin to light them, +and then went forward with Joe to hang them in the rigging.</p> + +<p>"They 're not goin' to tackle it," 'Frisco Kid said in an undertone.</p> + +<p>"What?" Joe asked.</p> + +<p>"That big thing I was tellin' you was down here somewhere. It 's so big, +I guess, that French Pete 's 'most afraid to go in for it. Red Nelson 'd +go in quicker 'n a wink, but he don't know enough about it. Can't go in, +you see, till Pete gives the word."</p> + +<p>"Where are we going now?" Joe questioned.</p> + +<p>"Don't know; oyster-beds most likely, from the way we 're heading."</p> + +<p>It was an uneventful trip. A breeze sprang up out of the night behind them, +and held steady for an hour or more. Then it dropped and became aimless and +erratic, puffing gently first from one quarter and then another. French +Pete remained at the tiller, while occasionally Joe or 'Frisco Kid took +in or slacked off a sheet.</p> + +<p>Joe sat and marveled that the Frenchman should know where he was going. +To Joe it seemed that they were lost in the impenetrable darkness which +shrouded them. A high fog had rolled in from the Pacific, and though they +were beneath, it came between them and the stars, depriving them of the +little light from that source.</p> + +<p>But French Pete seemed to know instinctively the direction he should go, +and once, in reply to a query from Joe, bragged of his ability to go by +the "feel" of things.</p> + +<p>"I feel ze tide, ze wind, ze speed," he explained. "Even do I feel ze land. +Dat I tell you for sure. How? I do not know. Only do I know dat I feel ze +land, just like my arm grow long, miles and miles long, and I put my hand +upon ze land and feel it, and know dat it is there."</p> + +<p>Joe looked incredulously at 'Frisco Kid.</p> + +<p>"That 's right," he affirmed. "After you 've been on the water a good +while you come to feel the land. And if your nose is any account, you +can usually smell it."</p> + +<p>An hour or so later, Joe surmised from the Frenchman's actions that they +were approaching their destination. He seemed on the alert, and was +constantly peering into the darkness ahead as though he expected to see +something at any moment. Joe looked very hard, but saw only the darkness.</p> + +<p>"Try ze stick, Kid," French Pete ordered. "I t'ink it is about ze time."</p> + +<p>'Frisco Kid unlashed a long and slender pole from the top of the cabin, +and, standing on the narrow deck amidships, plunged one end of it into +the water and drove it straight down.</p> + +<p>"About fifteen feet," he said.</p> + +<p>"What ze bottom?"</p> + +<p>"Mud," was the answer.</p> + +<p>"Wait one while, den we try some more."</p> + +<p>Five minutes afterward the pole was plunged overside again.</p> + +<p>"Two fathoms," Joe answered—"shells."</p> + +<p>French Pete rubbed his hands with satisfaction. "Vaire good, vaire well," +he said. "I hit ze ground every time. You can't fool-a ze old man; I tell +you dat for sure."</p> + +<p>'Frisco Kid continued operating the pole and announcing the results, to the +mystification of Joe, who could not comprehend their intimate knowledge of +the bottom of the bay.</p> + +<p>"Ten feet—shells," 'Frisco Kid went on in a monotonous voice. "'Leven +feet—shells. Fourteen feet—soft. Sixteen feet—mud. No bottom."</p> + +<p>"Ah, ze channel," said French Pete at this.</p> + +<p>For a few minutes it was "No bottom"; and then, suddenly, came 'Frisco +Kid's cry: "Eight feet—hard!"</p> + +<p>"Dat 'll do," French Pete commanded. "Run for'ard, you Sho, an' let go ze +jib. You, Kid, get all ready ze hook."</p> + +<p>Joe found the jib-halyard and cast it off the pin, and, as the canvas +fluttered down, came in hand over hand on the downhaul.</p> + +<p>"Let 'er go!" came the command, and the anchor dropped into the water, +carrying but little chain after it.</p> + +<p>'Frisco Kid threw over plenty of slack and made fast. Then they furled +the sails, made things tidy, and went below and to bed.</p> + +<p>It was six o'clock when Joe awoke and went out into the cockpit to look +about. Wind and sea had sprung up, and the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> was rolling and +tossing and now and again fetching up on her anchor-chain with a savage +jerk. He was forced to hold on to the boom overhead to steady himself. +It was a gray and leaden day, with no signs of the rising sun, while the +sky was obscured by great masses of flying clouds.</p> + +<p>Joe sought for the land. A mile and a half away it lay—a long, low +stretch of sandy beach with a heavy surf thundering upon it. Behind +appeared desolate marshlands, while far beyond towered the Contra +Costa Hills.</p> + +<p>Changing the direction of his gaze, Joe was startled by the sight of a +small sloop rolling and plunging at her anchor not a hundred yards away. +She was nearly to windward, and as she swung off slightly he read her name +on the stern, the <span class="i">Flying Dutchman</span>, one of the boats he had seen lying at +the city wharf in Oakland. A little to the left of her he discovered the +<span class="i">Ghost</span>, and beyond were half a dozen other sloops at anchor.</p> + +<p>"What I tell you?"</p> + +<p>Joe looked quickly over his shoulder. French Pete had come out of the +cabin and was triumphantly regarding the spectacle.</p> + +<p>"What I tell you? Can't fool-a ze old man, dat 's what. I hit it in ze +dark just so well as in ze sunshine. I know—I know."</p> + +<p>"Is she goin' to howl?" 'Frisco Kid asked from the cabin, where he was +starting the fire.</p> + +<p>The Frenchman gravely studied sea and sky for a couple of minutes.</p> + +<p>"Mebbe blow over—mebbe blow up," was his doubtful verdict. "Get breakfast +queeck, and we try ze dredging."</p> + +<p>Smoke was rising from the cabins of the different sloops, denoting that +they were all bent on getting the first meal of the day. So far as the +<span class="i">Dazzler</span> was concerned, it was a simple matter, and soon they were +putting a single reef in the mainsail and getting ready to weigh anchor.</p> + +<p>Joe was curious. These were undoubtedly the oyster-beds; but how under the +sun, in that wild sea, were they to get oysters? He was quickly to learn +the way. Lifting a section of the cockpit flooring, French Pete brought +out two triangular frames of steel. At the apex of one of these triangles; +in a ring for the purpose, he made fast a piece of stout rope. From this +the sides (inch rods) diverged at almost right angles, and extended down +for a distance of four feet or more, where they were connected by the +third side of the triangle, which was the bottom of the dredge. This was +a flat plate of steel over a yard in length, to which was bolted a row of +long, sharp teeth, likewise of steel. Attached to the toothed plate, and +to the sides of the frame was a net of very coarse fishing-twine, which +Joe correctly surmised was there to catch the oysters raked loose by the +teeth from the bottom of the bay.</p> + +<p>A rope being made fast to each of the dredges, they were dropped overboard +from either side of the <span class="i">Dazzler</span>. When they had reached the bottom, and +were dragging with the proper length of line out, they checked her speed +quite noticeably. Joe touched one of the lines with his hands, and could +feel plainly the shock and jar and grind as it tore over the bottom.</p> + +<p>"All in!" French Pete shouted.</p> + +<p>The boys laid hold of the line and hove in the dredge. The net was full +of mud and slime and small oysters, with here and there a large one. This +mess they dumped on the deck and picked over while the dredge was dragging +again. The large oysters they threw into the cockpit, and shoveled the +rubbish overboard. There was no rest, for by this time the other dredge +required emptying. And when this was done and the oysters sorted, both +dredges had to be hauled aboard, so that French Pete could put the +<span class="i">Dazzler</span> about on the other tack.</p> + +<p>The rest of the fleet was under way and dredging back in similar fashion. +Sometimes the different sloops came quite close to them, and they hailed +them and exchanged snatches of conversation and rough jokes. But in the +main it was hard work, and at the end of an hour Joe's back was aching +from the unaccustomed strain, and his fingers were cut and bleeding from +his clumsy handling of the sharp-edged oysters.</p> + +<p>"Dat 's right," French Pete said approvingly. "You learn queeck. Vaire +soon you know how."</p> + +<p>Joe grinned ruefully and wished it was dinner-time. Now and then, when +a light dredge was hauled, the boys managed to catch breath and say a +couple of words.</p> + +<p>"That 's Asparagus Island," 'Frisco Kid said, indicating the shore. "At +least, that 's what the fishermen and scow-sailors call it. The people +who live there call it Bay Farm Island." He pointed more to the right. +"And over there is San Leandro. You can't see it, but it 's there."</p> + +<p>"Ever been there?" Joe asked.</p> + +<p>'Frisco Kid nodded his head and signed to him to help heave in the +starboard dredge.</p> + +<p>"These are what they call the deserted beds," he said again. "Nobody owns +them, so the oyster pirates come down and make a bluff at working them."</p> + +<p>"Why a bluff?"</p> + +<p>"'Cause they 're pirates, that 's why, and because there 's more money in +raiding the private beds."</p> + +<p>He made a sweeping gesture toward the east and southeast. "The private beds +are over yonder, and if it don't storm the whole fleet 'll be raidin' 'em +to-night."</p> + +<p>"And if it does storm?" Joe asked.</p> + +<p>"Why, we won't raid them, and French Pete 'll be mad, that 's all. He +always hates being put out by the weather. But it don't look like lettin' +up, and this is the worst possible shore in a sou'wester. Pete may try +to hang on, but it 's best to get out before she howls."</p> + +<p>At first it did seem as though the weather were growing better. The stiff +southwest wind dropped perceptibly, and by noon, when they went to anchor +for dinner, the sun was breaking fitfully through the clouds.</p> + +<p>"That 's all right," 'Frisco Kid said prophetically. "But I ain't been +on the bay for nothing. She 's just gettin' ready to let us have it good +an' hard."</p> + +<p>"I t'ink you 're right, Kid," French Pete agreed; "but ze <span class="i">Dazzler</span> hang +on all ze same. Last-a time she run away, an' fine night come. Dis time +she run not away. Eh? Vaire good."</p> + +<HR class="medium"> + +<p class="chapter-head" id="Chapter_XV">CHAPTER XV</p> + +<p class="chapter-sub">GOOD SAILORS IN A WILD ANCHORAGE</p> + +<p>All afternoon the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> pitched and rolled at her anchorage, and as +evening drew on the wind deceitfully eased down. This, and the example +set by French Pete, encouraged the rest of the oyster-boats to attempt +to ride out the night; but they looked carefully to their moorings and +put out spare anchors.</p> + +<p>French Pete ordered the two boys into the skiff, and, at the imminent risk +of swamping, they carried out a second anchor, at nearly right angles to +the first one, and dropped it over. French Pete then ran out a great +quantity of chain and rope, so that the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> dropped back a hundred +feet or more, where she rode more easily.</p> + +<p>It was a wild stretch of water which Joe looked upon from the shelter of +the cockpit. The oyster-beds were out in the open bay, utterly unprotected, +and the wind, sweeping the water for a clean twelve miles, kicked up so +tremendous a sea that at every moment it seemed as though the wallowing +sloops would roll their masts overside. Just before twilight a patch of +sail sprang up to windward, and grew and grew until it resolved itself +into the huge mainsail of the <span class="i">Reindeer</span>.</p> + +<p>"Ze beeg fool!" French Pete cried, running out of the cabin to see. +"Sometime—ah, sometime, I tell you—he crack on like dat, an' he go, +pouf! just like dat, pouf!—an' no more Nelson, no more <span class="i">Reindeer</span>, no +more nothing."</p> + +<p>Joe looked inquiringly at 'Frisco Kid.</p> + +<p>"That 's right," he answered. "Nelson ought to have at least one reef +in. Two 'd be better. But there he goes, every inch spread, as though +some fiend was after 'im. He drives too hard; he 's too reckless, when +there ain't the smallest need for it. I 've sailed with him, and I know +his ways."</p> + +<p>Like some huge bird of the air, the <span class="i">Reindeer</span> lifted and soared down +on them on the foaming crest of a wave.</p> + +<p>"Don't mind," 'Frisco Kid warned. "He 's only tryin' to see how close +he can come to us without hittin' us."</p> + +<p>Joe nodded, and stared with wide eyes at the thrilling sight. The +<span class="i">Reindeer</span> leaped up in the air, pointing her nose to the sky till +they could see her whole churning forefoot; then she plunged downward +till her for'ard deck was flush with the foam, and with a dizzying rush +she drove past them, her main-boom missing the <span class="i">Dazzler's</span> rigging by +scarcely a foot.</p> + +<p>Nelson, at the wheel, waved his hand to them as he hurtled past, +and laughed joyously in French Pete's face, who was angered by the +dangerous trick.</p> + +<p>When to leeward, the splendid craft rounded to the wind, rolling once +till her brown bottom showed to the centerboard and they thought she +was over, then righting and dashing ahead again like a thing possessed. +She passed abreast of them on the starboard side. They saw the jib run +down with a rush and an anchor go overboard as she shot into the wind; +and as she fell off and back and off and back with a spilling mainsail, +they saw a second anchor go overboard, wide apart from the first. Then +the mainsail came down on the run, and was furled and fastened by the +time she had tightened to her double hawsers.</p> + +<p>"Ah, ah! Never was there such a man!"</p> + +<p>The Frenchman's eyes were glistening with admiration for such perfect +seamanship, and 'Frisco Kid's were likewise moist.</p> + +<p>"Just like a yacht," he said as he went back into the cabin. "Just like +a yacht, only better."</p> + +<p>As night came on the wind began to rise again, and by eleven o'clock had +reached the stage which 'Frisco Kid described as "howlin'." There was +little sleep on the <span class="i">Dazzler</span>. He alone closed his eyes. French Pete was +up and down every few minutes. Twice, when he went on deck, he paid out +more chain and rope. Joe lay in his blankets and listened, the while +vainly courting sleep. He was not frightened, but he was untrained in +the art of sleeping in the midst of such turmoil and uproar and violent +commotion. Nor had he imagined a boat could play as wild antics as did +the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> and still survive. Often she wallowed over on her beam +till he thought she would surely capsize. At other times she leaped +and plunged in the air and fell upon the seas with thunderous crashes +as though her bottom were shattered to fragments. Again, she would fetch +up taut on her hawsers so suddenly and so fiercely as to reel from the +shock and to groan and protest through every timber.</p> + +<p>'Frisco Kid awoke once, and smiled at him, saying:</p> + +<p>"This is what they call hangin' on. But just you wait till daylight comes, +and watch us clawin' off. If some of the sloops don't go ashore, I 'm not +me, that 's all."</p> + +<p>And thereat he rolled over on his side and was off to sleep. Joe envied +him. About three in the morning he heard French Pete crawl up for'ard and +rummage around in the eyes of the boat. Joe looked on curiously, and by +the dim light of the wildly swinging sea-lamp saw him drag out two spare +coils of line. These he took up on deck, and Joe knew he was bending them +on to the hawsers to make them still longer.</p> + +<p>At half-past four French Pete had the fire going, and at five he called +the boys for coffee. This over, they crept into the cockpit to gaze on the +terrible scene. The dawn was breaking bleak and gray over a wild waste of +tumbling water. They could faintly see the beach-line of Asparagus Island, +but they could distinctly hear the thunder of the surf upon it; and as the +day grew stronger they made out that they had dragged fully half a mile +during the night.</p> + +<p>The rest of the fleet had likewise dragged. The <span class="i">Reindeer</span> was almost +abreast of them; <span class="i">La Caprice</span> lay a few hundred yards away; and to +leeward, straggling between them and shore, were five more of the +struggling oyster-boats.</p> + +<p>"Two missing," 'Frisco Kid announced, putting the glasses to his eyes +and searching the beach.</p> + +<p>"And there 's one!" he cried. And after studying it carefully he added: +"The <span class="i">Go Ask Her</span>. She 'll be in pieces in no time. I hope they got +ashore."</p> + +<p>French Pete looked through the glasses, and then Joe. He could clearly see +the unfortunate sloop lifting and pounding in the surf, and on the beach he +spied the men who made up her crew.</p> + +<p>"Where 's ze <span class="i">Ghost</span>?" French Pete queried.</p> + +<p>'Frisco Kid looked for her in vain along the beach; but when he turned the +glass seaward he quickly discovered her riding safely in the growing light, +half a mile or more to windward.</p> + +<p>"I 'll bet she did n't drag a hundred feet all night," he said. "Must 've +struck good holding-ground."</p> + +<p>"Mud," was French Pete's verdict. "Just one vaire small patch of mud right +there. If she get t'rough it she 's a sure-enough goner, I tell you dat. +Her anchors vaire light, only good for mud. I tell ze boys get more heavy +anchors, but dey laugh. Some day be sorry, for sure."</p> + +<p>One of the sloops to leeward raised a patch of sail and began the terrible +struggle out of the jaws of destruction and death. They watched her for a +space, rolling and plunging fearfully, and making very little headway.</p> + +<p>French Pete put a stop to their gazing. "Come on!" he shouted. "Put two +reef in ze mainsail! We get out queeck!"</p> + +<p>While occupied with this a shout aroused them. Looking up, they saw the +<span class="i">Ghost</span> dead ahead and right on top of them, and dragging down upon them +at a furious rate.</p> + +<p>French Pete scrambled forward like a cat, at the same time drawing his +knife, with one stroke of which he severed the rope that held them to +the spare anchor. This threw the whole weight of the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> on the +chain-anchor. In consequence she swung off to the left, and just in time; +for the next instant, drifting stern foremost, the <span class="i">Ghost</span> passed over +the spot she had vacated.</p> + +<p>"Why, she 's got four anchors out!" Joe exclaimed, at sight of four taut +ropes entering the water almost horizontally from her bow.</p> + +<p>"Two of 'em 's dredges," 'Frisco Kid grinned; "and there goes the stove."</p> + +<p>As he spoke, two young fellows appeared on deck and dropped the +cooking-stove overside with a line attached.</p> + +<p>"Phew!" 'Frisco Kid cried. "Look at Nelson. He 's got one reef in, +and you can just bet that 's a sign she 's howlin'!"</p> + +<p>The <span class="i">Reindeer</span> came foaming toward them, breasting the storm like some +magnificent sea-animal. Red Nelson waved to them as he passed astern, +and fifteen minutes later, when they were breaking out the one anchor +that remained to them, he passed well to windward on the other tack.</p> + +<p>French Pete followed her admiringly, though he said ominously: "Some +day, pouf! he go just like dat, I tell you, sure."</p> + +<p>A moment later the <span class="i">Dazzler's</span> reefed jib was flung out, and she was +straining and struggling in the thick of the fight. It was slow work, +and hard and dangerous, clawing off that lee shore, and Joe found +himself marveling often that so small a craft could possibly endure +a minute in such elemental fury. But little by little she worked off +the shore and out of the ground-swell into the deeper waters of the bay, +where the main-sheet was slacked away a bit, and she ran for shelter +behind the rock wall of the Alameda Mole a few miles away. Here they +found the <span class="i">Reindeer</span> calmly at anchor; and here, during the next several +hours, straggled in the remainder of the fleet, with the exception of the +<span class="i">Ghost</span>, which had evidently gone ashore to keep the <span class="i">Go Ask Her</span> company.</p> + +<p>By afternoon the wind had dropped away with surprising suddenness, and the +weather had turned almost summer-like.</p> + +<p>"It does n't look right," 'Frisco Kid said in the evening, after French +Pete had rowed over in the skiff to visit Nelson.</p> + +<p>"What does n't look right?" Joe asked.</p> + +<p>"Why, the weather. It went down too sudden. It did n't have a chance +to blow itself out, and it ain't going to quit till does blow itself +out. It 's likely to puff up and howl at any moment, if I know anything +about it."</p> + +<p>"Where will we go from here?" Joe asked. "Back to the oyster-beds?"</p> + +<p>'Frisco Kid shook his head. "I can't say what French Pete 'll do. He 's +been fooled on the iron, and fooled on the oysters, and he 's that +disgusted he 's liable to do 'most anything desperate. I would n't be +surprised to see him go off with Nelson towards Redwood City, where that +big thing is that I was tellin' you about. It 's somewhere over there."</p> + +<p>"Well, I won't have anything to do with it," Joe announced decisively.</p> + +<p>"Of course not," 'Frisco Kid answered. "And with Nelson and his two men +an' French Pete, I don't think there 'll be any need for you anyway."</p> + +<HR class="medium"> + +<p class="chapter-head" id="Chapter_XVI">CHAPTER XVI</p> + +<p class="chapter-sub">'FRISCO KID'S DITTY-BOX</p> + +<p>After the conversation died away, the two lads lay upon the cabin for +perhaps an hour. Then, without saying a word, 'Frisco Kid went below +and struck a light. Joe could hear him fumbling about, and a little +later heard his own name called softly. On going into the cabin, he +saw 'Frisco Kid sitting on the edge of the bunk, a sailor's ditty-box +on his knees, and in his hand a carefully folded page from a magazine.</p> + +<p>"Does she look like this?" he asked, smoothing it out and turning it that +the other might see.</p> + +<p class="img"> +<img width="439" height="580" src="TCotD05.png" id="TCotD05.png" + title='"Does she look like this?" he asked, turning it that the other might see.' + alt="Two men in the cabin of a boat; one holding up a photo."> +</p> + +<p>It was a half-page illustration of two girls and a boy, grouped, evidently, +in an old-fashioned roomy attic, and holding a council of some sort. The +girl who was talking faced the onlooker, while the backs of the other two +were turned.</p> + +<p>"Who?" Joe queried, glancing in perplexity from the picture to 'Frisco +Kid's face.</p> + +<p>"Your—your sister—Bessie."</p> + +<p>The word seemed reluctant in coming to his lips, and he expressed +himself with a certain shy reverence, as though it were something +unspeakably sacred.</p> + +<p>Joe was nonplussed for the moment. He could see no bearing between the +two in point, and, anyway, girls were rather silly creatures to waste +one's time over. "He 's actually blushing," he thought, regarding the +soft glow on the other's cheeks. He felt an irresistible desire to laugh, +and tried to smother it down.</p> + +<p>"No, no; don't!" 'Frisco Kid cried, snatching the paper away and putting +it back in the ditty-box with shaking fingers. Then he added more slowly: +"I thought—I—I kind o' thought you would understand, and—and—"</p> + +<p>His lips trembled and his eyes glistened with unwonted moistness as he +turned hastily away.</p> + +<p>The next instant Joe was by his side on the bunk, his arm around him. +Prompted by some instinctive monitor, he had done it before he thought. +A week before he could not have imagined himself in such an absurd +situation—his arm around a boy; but now it seemed the most natural +thing in the world. He did not comprehend, but he knew, whatever it +was, that it was of deep importance to his companion.</p> + +<p>"Go ahead and tell us," he urged. "I 'll understand."</p> + +<p>"No, you won't. You can't."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sure. Go ahead."</p> + +<p>'Frisco Kid choked and shook his head. "I don't think I could, anyway. +It 's more the things I feel, and I don't know how to put them in words." +Joe's hand patted his shoulder reassuringly, and he went on: "Well, it 's +this way. You see, I don't know much about the land, and people, and +things, and I never had any brothers or sisters or playmates. All the +time I did n't know it, but I was lonely—sort of missed them down in +here somewheres." He placed a hand over his breast. "Did you ever feel +downright hungry? Well, that 's just the way I used to feel, only a +different kind of hunger, and me not knowing what it was. But one day, +oh, a long time back, I got a-hold of a magazine and saw a picture—that +picture, with the two girls and the boy talking together. I thought it must +be fine to be like them, and I got to thinking about the things they said +and did, till it came to me all of a sudden like, and I knew it was just +loneliness was the matter with me.</p> + +<p>"But, more than anything else, I got to wondering about the girl who looks +out of the picture right at you. I was thinking about her all the time, +and by and by she became real to me. You see, it was making believe, and +I knew it all the time, and then again I did n't. Whenever I 'd think of +the men, and the work, and the hard life, I 'd know it was make-believe; +but when I 'd think of her, it was n't. I don't know; I can't explain it."</p> + +<p>Joe remembered all his own adventures which he had imagined on land and +sea, and nodded. He at least understood that much.</p> + +<p>"Of course it was all foolishness, but to have a girl like that for a +comrade or friend seemed more like heaven to me than anything else I +knew of. As I said, it was a long while back, and I was only a little +kid—that was when Red Nelson gave me my name, and I 've never been +anything but 'Frisco Kid ever since. But the girl in the picture: I +was always getting that picture out to look at her, and before long, +if I was n't square—why, I felt ashamed to look at her. Afterwards, +when I was older, I came to look at it in another way. I thought, +'Suppose, Kid, some day you were to meet a girl like that, what would +she think of you? Could she like you? Could she be even the least bit +of a friend to you?' And then I 'd make up my mind to be better, to try +and do something with myself so that she or any of her kind of people +would not be ashamed to know me.</p> + +<p>"That 's why I learned to read. That 's why I ran away. Nicky Perrata, +a Greek boy, taught me my letters, and it was n't till after I learned +to read that I found out there was anything really wrong in bay-pirating. +I 'd been used to it ever since I could remember, and almost all the people +I knew made their living that way. But when I did find out, I ran away, +thinking to quit it for good. I 'll tell you about it sometime, and how +I 'm back at it again.</p> + +<p>"Of course she seemed a real girl when I was a youngster, and even now she +sometimes seems that way, I 've thought so much about her. But while I 'm +talking to you it all clears up and she comes to me in this light: she +stands just for a plain idea, a better, cleaner life than this, and one +I 'd like to live; and if I could live it, why, I 'd come to know that +kind of girls, and their kind of people—your kind, that 's what I mean. +So I was wondering about your sister and you, and that 's why—I don't +know; I guess I was just wondering. But I suppose you know lots of girls +like that, don't you?"</p> + +<p>Joe nodded his head.</p> + +<p>"Then tell me about them—something, anything," he added as he noted the +fleeting expression of doubt in the other's eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that 's easy," Joe began valiantly. To a certain extent he did +understand the lad's hunger, and it seemed a simple enough task to at +least partially satisfy him. "To begin with, they 're like—hem!—why, +they 're like—girls, just girls." He broke off with a miserable sense +of failure.</p> + +<p>'Frisco Kid waited patiently, his face a study in expectancy.</p> + +<p>Joe struggled valiantly to marshal his forces. To his mind, in quick +succession, came the girls with whom he had gone to school—the sisters +of the boys he knew, and those who were his sister's friends: slim girls +and plump girls, tall girls and short girls, blue-eyed and brown-eyed, +curly-haired, black-haired, golden-haired; in short, a procession of girls +of all sorts and descriptions. But, to save himself, he could say nothing +about them. Anyway, he 'd never been a "sissy," and why should he be +expected to know anything about them? "All girls are alike," he concluded +desperately. "They 're just the same as the ones you know, Kid—sure +they are."</p> + +<p>"But I don't know any."</p> + +<p>Joe whistled. "And never did?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, one. Carlotta Gispardi. But she could n't speak English, and I could +n't speak Dago; and she died. I don't care; though I never knew any, I seem +to know as much about them as you do."</p> + +<p>"And I guess I know more about adventures all over the world than you do," +Joe retorted.</p> + +<p>Both boys laughed. But a moment later, Joe fell into deep thought. It had +come upon him quite swiftly that he had not been duly grateful for the good +things of life he did possess. Already home, father, and mother had assumed +a greater significance to him; but he now found himself placing a higher +personal value upon his sister and his chums and friends. He had never +appreciated them properly, he thought, but henceforth—well, there would +be a different tale to tell.</p> + +<p>The voice of French Pete hailing them put a finish to the conversation, +for they both ran on deck.</p> + +<HR class="medium"> + +<p class="chapter-head" id="Chapter_XVII">CHAPTER XVII</p> + +<p class="chapter-sub">'FRISCO KID TELLS HIS STORY</p> + +<p>"Get up ze mainsail and break out ze hook!" the Frenchman shouted. "And +den tail on to ze <span class="i">Reindeer</span>! No side-lights!"</p> + +<p>"Come! Cast off those gaskets—lively!" 'Frisco Kid ordered. "Now lay on +to the peak-halyards—there, that rope—cast it off the pin. And don't +hoist ahead of me. There! Make fast! We 'll stretch it afterwards. Run aft +and come in on the main-sheet! Shove the helm up!"</p> + +<p>Under the sudden driving power of the mainsail, the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> strained +and tugged at her anchor like an impatient horse till the muddy iron left +the bottom with a rush and she was free.</p> + +<p>"Let go the sheet! Come for'ard again and lend a hand on the chain! Stand +by to give her the jib!" 'Frisco Kid the boy who mooned over girls in +pictorial magazines had vanished, and 'Frisco Kid the sailor, strong and +dominant, was on deck. He ran aft and tacked about as the jib rattled aloft +in the hands of Joe, who quickly joined him. Just then the <span class="i">Reindeer</span>, +like a monstrous bat, passed to leeward of them in the gloom.</p> + +<p>"Ah, dose boys! Dey take all-a night!" they heard French Pete exclaim, and +then the gruff voice of Red Nelson, who said: "Never you mind, Frenchy. I +taught the Kid his sailorizing, and I ain't never been ashamed of him yet."</p> + +<p>The <span class="i">Reindeer</span> was the faster boat, but by spilling the wind from her sails +they managed so that the boys could keep them in sight. The breeze came +steadily in from the west, with a promise of early increase. The stars were +being blotted out by masses of driving clouds, which indicated a greater +velocity in the upper strata. 'Frisco Kid surveyed the sky.</p> + +<p>"Going to have it good and stiff before morning," he said, "just as I +told you."</p> + +<p>Several hours later, both boats stood in for the San Mateo shore, and +dropped anchor not more than a cable's-length away. A little wharf ran +out, the bare end of which was perceptible to them, though they could +discern a small yacht lying moored to a buoy a short distance away.</p> + +<p>According to their custom, everything was put in readiness for hasty +departure. The anchors could be tripped and the sails flung out on a +moment's notice. Both skiffs came over noiselessly from the <span class="i">Reindeer</span>. +Red Nelson had given one of his two men to French Pete, so that each +skiff was doubly manned. They were not a very prepossessing group of +men,—at least, Joe did not think so,—for their faces bore a savage +seriousness which almost made him shiver. The captain of the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> +buckled on his pistol-belt, and placed a rifle and a stout double-block +tackle in the boat. Then he poured out wine all around, and, standing in +the darkness of the little cabin, they pledged success to the expedition. +Red Nelson was also armed, while his men wore at their hips the customary +sailor's sheath-knife. They were very slow and careful to avoid noise +in getting into the boats, French Pete pausing long enough to warn the +boys to remain quietly aboard and not try any tricks.</p> + +<p>"Now 'd be your chance, Joe, if they had n't taken the skiff," 'Frisco Kid +whispered, when the boats had vanished into the loom of the land.</p> + +<p>"What 's the matter with the <span class="i">Dazzler</span>?" was the unexpected answer. "We +could up sail and away before you could say Jack Robinson."</p> + +<p>'Frisco Kid hesitated. The spirit of comradeship was strong in the lad, +and deserting a companion in a pinch could not but be repulsive to him.</p> + +<p>"I don't think it 'd be exactly square to leave them in the lurch ashore," +he said. "Of course," he went on hurriedly, "I know the whole thing 's +wrong; but you remember that first night, when you came running through +the water for the skiff, and those fellows on the bank busy popping away? +We did n't leave you in the lurch, did we?"</p> + +<p>Joe assented reluctantly, and then a new thought flashed across his mind. +"But they 're pirates—and thieves—and criminals. They 're breaking the +law, and you and I are not willing to be lawbreakers. Besides, they 'll +not be left. There 's the <span class="i">Reindeer</span>. There 's nothing to prevent them +from getting away on her, and they 'll never catch us in the dark."</p> + +<p>"Come on, then." Though he had agreed, 'Frisco Kid did not quite like it, +for it still seemed to savor of desertion.</p> + +<p>They crawled forward and began to hoist the mainsail. The anchor they +could slip, if necessary, and save the time of pulling it up. But at the +first rattle of the halyards on the sheaves a warning "Hist!" came to +them through the darkness, followed by a loudly whispered "Drop that!"</p> + +<p>Glancing in the direction from which these sounds proceeded, they made +out a white face peering at them from over the rail of the other sloop.</p> + +<p>"Aw, it 's only the <span class="i">Reindeer's</span> boy," 'Frisco Kid said. "Come on."</p> + +<p>Again they were interrupted at the first rattling of the blocks.</p> + +<p>"I say, you fellers, you 'd better let go them halyards pretty quick, +I 'm a-tellin' you, or I 'll give you what for!"</p> + +<p>This threat being dramatically capped by the click of a cocking pistol, +'Frisco Kid obeyed and went grumblingly back to the cockpit. "Oh, there 's +plenty more chances to come," he whispered consolingly to Joe. "French Pete +was cute, was n't he? He thought you might be trying to make a break, and +put a guard on us."</p> + +<p>Nothing came from the shore to indicate how the pirates were faring. Not +a dog barked, not a light flared. Yet the air seemed quivering with an +alarm about to burst forth. The night had taken on a strained feeling of +intensity, as though it held in store all kinds of terrible things. The +boys felt this keenly as they huddled against each other in the cockpit +and waited.</p> + +<p>"You were going to tell me about your running away," Joe ventured finally, +"and why you came back again."</p> + +<p>'Frisco Kid took up the tale at once, speaking in a muffled undertone +close to the other's ear.</p> + +<p>"You see, when I made up my mind to quit the life, there was n't a soul +to lend me a hand; but I knew that the only thing for me to do was to +get ashore and find some kind of work, so I could study. Then I figured +there 'd be more chance in the country than in the city; so I gave Red +Nelson the slip—I was on the <span class="i">Reindeer</span> then. One night on the Alameda +oyster-beds, I got ashore and headed back from the bay as fast as I +could sprint. Nelson did n't catch me. But they were all Portuguese +farmers thereabouts, and none of them had work for me. Besides, it was +in the wrong time of the year—winter. That shows how much I knew about +the land.</p> + +<p>"I 'd saved up a couple of dollars, and I kept traveling back, deeper +and deeper into the country, looking for work, and buying bread and +cheese and such things from the storekeepers. I tell you, it was cold, +nights, sleeping out without blankets, and I was always glad when morning +came. But worse than that was the way everybody looked on me. They were +all suspicious, and not a bit afraid to show it, and sometimes they 'd +set their dogs on me and tell me to get along. Seemed as though there +was n't any place for me on the land. Then my money gave out, and just +about the time I was good and hungry I got captured."</p> + +<p>"Captured! What for?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing. Living, I suppose. I crawled into a haystack to sleep one night, +because it was warmer, and along comes a village constable and arrests me +for being a tramp. At first they thought I was a runaway, and telegraphed +my description all over. I told them I did n't have any people, but they +would n't believe me for a long while. And then, when nobody claimed me, +the judge sent me to a boys' 'refuge' in San Francisco."</p> + +<p>He stopped and peered intently in the direction of the shore. The darkness +and the silence in which the men had been swallowed up was profound. +Nothing was stirring save the rising wind.</p> + +<p>"I thought I 'd die in that 'refuge.' It was just like being in jail. We +were locked up and guarded like prisoners. Even then, if I could have +liked the other boys it might have been all right. But they were mostly +street-boys of the worst kind—lying, and sneaking, and cowardly, without +one spark of manhood or one idea of square dealing and fair play. There +was only one thing I did like, and that was the books. Oh, I did lots of +reading, I tell you! But that could n't make up for the rest. I wanted +the freedom and the sunlight and the salt water. And what had I done to +be kept in prison and herded with such a gang? Instead of doing wrong, +I had tried to do right, to make myself better, and that 's what I got +for it. I was n't old enough, you see, to reason anything out.</p> + +<p>"Sometimes I 'd see the sunshine dancing on the water and showing white +on the sails, and the <span class="i">Reindeer</span> cutting through it just as you please, +and I 'd get that sick I would know hardly what I did. And then the boys +would come against me with some of their meannesses, and I 'd start in +to lick the whole kit of them. Then the men in charge would lock me up +and punish me. Well, I could n't stand it any longer; I watched my chance +and ran for it. Seemed as though there was n't any place on the land for +me, so I picked up with French Pete and went back on the bay. That 's about +all there is to it, though I 'm going to try it again when I get a little +older—old enough to get a square deal for myself."</p> + +<p>"You 're going to go back on the land with me," Joe said authoritatively, +laying a hand on his shoulder. "That 's what you 're going to do. As for—"</p> + +<p>Bang! a revolver-shot rang out from the shore. Bang! bang! More guns were +speaking sharply and hurriedly. A man's voice rose wildly on the air and +died away. Somebody began to cry for help. Both boys were on their feet on +the instant, hoisting the mainsail and getting everything ready to run. +The <span class="i">Reindeer</span> boy was doing likewise. A man, roused from his sleep on +the yacht, thrust an excited head through the skylight, but withdrew it +hastily at sight of the two stranger sloops. The intensity of waiting was +broken, the time for action come.</p> + +<HR class="medium"> + +<p class="chapter-head" id="Chapter_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII</p> + +<p class="chapter-sub">A NEW RESPONSIBILITY FOR JOE</p> + +<p>Heaving in on the anchor-chain till it was up and down, 'Frisco Kid +and Joe ceased from their exertions. Everything was in readiness to +give the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> the jib, and go. They strained their eyes in the +direction of the shore. The clamor had died away, but here and there +lights were beginning to flash. The creaking of a block and tackle +came to their ears, and they heard Red Nelson's voice singing out: +"Lower away!" and "Cast off!"</p> + +<p>"French Pete forgot to oil it," 'Frisco Kid commented, referring to +the tackle.</p> + +<p>"Takin' their time about it, ain't they?" the boy on the <span class="i">Reindeer</span> +called over to them, sitting down on the cabin and mopping his face +after the exertion of hoisting the mainsail single-handed.</p> + +<p>"Guess they 're all right," 'Frisco Kid rejoined. "All ready?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—all right here."</p> + +<p>"Say, you," the man on the yacht cried through the skylight, not +venturing to show his head. "You 'd better go away."</p> + +<p>"And you 'd better stay below and keep quiet," was the response. +"We 'll take care of ourselves. You do the same."</p> + +<p>"If I was only out of this, I 'd show you!" he threatened.</p> + +<p>"Lucky for you you 're not," responded the boy on the <span class="i">Reindeer</span>; +and thereat the man kept quiet.</p> + +<p>"Here they come!" said 'Frisco Kid suddenly to Joe.</p> + +<p>The two skiffs shot out of the darkness and came alongside. Some kind +of an altercation was going on, as French Pete's voice attested.</p> + +<p>"No, no!" he cried. "Put it on ze <span class="i">Dazzler</span>. Ze <span class="i">Reindeer</span> she sail too +fast-a, and run away, oh, so queeck, and never more I see it. Put it on +ze <span class="i">Dazzler</span>. Eh? Wot you say?"</p> + +<p>"All right then," Red Nelson agreed. "We 'll whack up afterwards. But, +say, hurry up. Out with you, lads, and heave her up! My arm 's broke."</p> + +<p>The men tumbled out, ropes were cast inboard, and all hands, with the +exception of Joe, tailed on. The shouting of men, the sound of oars, and +the rattling and slapping of blocks and sails, told that the men on shore +were getting under way for the pursuit.</p> + +<p>"Now!" Red Nelson commanded. "All together! Don't let her come back or +you 'll smash the skiff. There she takes it! A long pull and a strong +pull! Once again! And yet again! Get a turn there, somebody, and take +a spell."</p> + +<p>Though the task was but half accomplished, they were exhausted by the +strenuous effort, and hailed the rest eagerly. Joe glanced over the side +to discover what the heavy object might be, and saw the vague outlines +of a small office-safe.</p> + +<p>"Now all together!" Red Nelson began again. "Take her on the run and don't +let her stop! Yo, ho! heave, ho! Once again! And another! Over with her!"</p> + +<p>Straining and gasping, with tense muscles and heaving chests, they brought +the cumbersome weight over the side, rolled it on top of the rail, and +lowered it into the cockpit on the run. The cabin doors were thrown apart, +and it was moved along, end for end, till it lay on the cabin floor, snug +against the end of the centerboard-case. Red Nelson had followed it aboard +to superintend. His left arm hung helpless at his side, and from the +finger-tips blood dripped with monotonous regularity. He did not seem to +mind it, however, nor even the mutterings of the human storm he had raised +ashore, and which, to judge by the sounds, was even then threatening to +break upon them.</p> + +<p>"Lay your course for the Golden Gate," he said to French Pete, as he turned +to go. "I 'll try to stand by you, but if you get lost in the dark I 'll +meet you outside, off the Farralones, in the morning." He sprang into the +skiff after the men, and, with a wave of his uninjured arm, cried heartily: +"And then it 's for Mexico, my lads—Mexico and summer weather!"</p> + +<p>Just as the <span class="i">Dazzler</span>, freed from her anchor, paid off under the jib and +filled away, a dark sail loomed under their stern, barely missing the skiff +in tow. The cockpit of the stranger was crowded with men, who raised their +voices angrily at sight of the pirates. Joe had half a mind to run forward +and cut the halyards so that the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> might be captured. As he had +told French Pete the day before, he had done nothing to be ashamed of, and +was not afraid to go before a court of justice. But the thought of 'Frisco +Kid restrained him. He wanted to take him ashore with him, but in so doing +he did not wish to take him to jail. So he, too, began to experience a keen +interest in the escape of the <span class="i">Dazzler</span>.</p> + +<p>The pursuing sloop rounded up hurriedly to come about after them, and in +the darkness fouled the yacht which lay at anchor. The man aboard of her, +thinking that at last his time had come, gave one wild yell, ran on deck, +and leaped overboard. In the confusion of the collision, and while they +were endeavoring to save him, French Pete and the boys slipped away into +the night.</p> + +<p>The <span class="i">Reindeer</span> had already disappeared, and by the time Joe and 'Frisco +Kid had the running-gear coiled down and everything in shape, they were +standing out in open water. The wind was freshening constantly, and the +<span class="i">Dazzler</span> heeled a lively clip through the comparatively smooth stretch. +Before an hour had passed, the lights of Hunter's Point were well on her +starboard beam. 'Frisco Kid went below to make coffee, but Joe remained +on deck, watching the lights of South San Francisco grow, and speculating +on their destination. Mexico! They were going to sea in such a frail craft! +Impossible! At least, it seemed so to him, for his conceptions of ocean +travel were limited to steamers and full-rigged ships. He was beginning +to feel half sorry that he had not cut the halyards, and longed to ask +French Pete a thousand questions; but just as the first was on his lips +that worthy ordered him to go below and get some coffee and then to turn +in. He was followed shortly afterward by 'Frisco Kid, French Pete remaining +at his lonely task of beating down the bay and out to sea. Twice he heard +the waves buffeted back from some flying forefoot, and once he saw a sail +to leeward on the opposite tack, which luffed sharply and came about at +sight of him. But the darkness favored, and he heard no more of it—perhaps +because he worked into the wind closer by a point, and held on his way +with a shaking after-leech.</p> + +<p>Shortly after dawn, the two boys were called and came sleepily on deck. +The day had broken cold and gray, while the wind had attained half a gale. +Joe noted with astonishment the white tents of the quarantine station on +Angel Island. San Francisco lay a smoky blur on the southern horizon, +while the night, still lingering on the western edge of the world, slowly +withdrew before their eyes. French Pete was just finishing a long reach +into the Raccoon Straits, and at the same time studiously regarding a +plunging sloop-yacht half a mile astern.</p> + +<p>"Dey t'ink to catch ze <span class="i">Dazzler</span>, eh? Bah!" And he brought the craft +in question about, laying a course straight for the Golden Gate.</p> + +<p>The pursuing yacht followed suit. Joe watched her a few moments. She held +an apparently parallel course to them, and forged ahead much faster.</p> + +<p>"Why, at this rate they 'll have us in no time!" he cried.</p> + +<p>French Pete laughed. "You t'ink so? Bah! Dey outfoot; we outpoint. Dey +are scared of ze wind; we wipe ze eye of ze wind. Ah! you wait, you see."</p> + +<p>"They 're traveling ahead faster," 'Frisco Kid explained, "but we 're +sailing closer to the wind. In the end we 'll beat them, even if they +have the nerve to cross the bar—which I don't think they have. Look! See!"</p> + +<p>Ahead could be seen the great ocean surges, flinging themselves skyward +and bursting into roaring caps of smother. In the midst of it, now rolling +her dripping bottom clear, now sousing her deck-load of lumber far above +the guards, a coasting steam-schooner was lumbering drunkenly into port. +It was magnificent—this battle between man and the elements. Whatever +timidity he had entertained fled away, and Joe's nostrils began to dilate +and his eyes to flash at the nearness of the impending struggle.</p> + +<p>French Pete called for his oilskins and sou'wester, and Joe also was +equipped with a spare suit. Then he and 'Frisco Kid were sent below to +lash and cleat the safe in place. In the midst of this task Joe glanced +at the firm-name, gilt-lettered on the face of it, and read: "Bronson +& Tate." Why, that was his father and his father's partner. That was their +safe, their money! 'Frisco Kid, nailing the last cleat on the floor of +the cabin, looked up and followed his fascinated gaze.</p> + +<p>"That 's rough, is n't it," he whispered. "Your father?"</p> + +<p>Joe nodded. He could see it all now. They had run into San Andreas, +where his father worked the big quarries, and most probably the safe +contained the wages of the thousand men or more whom he employed. +"Don't say anything," he cautioned.</p> + +<p>'Frisco Kid agreed knowingly. "French Pete can't read, anyway," he +muttered, "and the chances are that Red Nelson won't know what <span class="i">your</span> +name is. But, just the same, it 's pretty rough. They 'll break it open +and divide up as soon as they can, so I don't see what you 're going to +do about it."</p> + +<p>"Wait and see." +Joe had made up his mind that he would do his best to stand by his +father's property. At the worst, it could only be lost; and that would +surely be the case were he not along, while, being along, he at least +had a fighting chance to save it, or to be in position to recover it. +Responsibilities were showering upon him thick and fast. But a few days +back he had had but himself to consider; then, in some subtle way, he +had felt a certain accountability for 'Frisco Kid's future welfare; and +after that, and still more subtly, he had become aware of duties which +he owed to his position, to his sister, to his chums and friends; and +now, by a most unexpected chain of circumstances, came the pressing need +of service for his father's sake. It was a call upon his deepest strength, +and he responded bravely. While the future might be doubtful, he had no +doubt of himself; and this very state of mind, this self-confidence, by +a generous alchemy, gave him added resolution. Nor did he fail to be +vaguely aware of it, and to grasp dimly at the truth that confidence +breeds confidence—strength, strength.</p> + +<HR class="medium"> + +<p class="chapter-head" id="Chapter_XIX">CHAPTER XIX</p> + +<p class="chapter-sub">THE BOYS PLAN AN ESCAPE</p> + +<p>"Now she takes it!" French Pete cried.</p> + +<p>Both lads ran into the cockpit. They were on the edge of the breaking bar. +A huge forty-footer reared a foam-crested head far above them, stealing +their wind for the moment and threatening to crush the tiny craft like +an egg-shell. Joe held his breath. It was the supreme moment. French Pete +luffed straight into it, and the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> mounted the steep slope with +a rush, poised a moment on the giddy summit, and fell into the yawning +valley beyond. Keeping off in the intervals to fill the mainsail, and +luffing into the combers, they worked their way across the dangerous +stretch. Once they caught the tail-end of a whitecap and were well-nigh +smothered in the froth, but otherwise the sloop bobbed and ducked with +the happy facility of a cork.</p> + +<p class="img"> +<img width="580" height="366" src="TCotD06.png" id="TCotD06.png" + title='Pete luffed straight into it, and the "Dazzler" mounted the steep slope with a rush.' + alt="A ship and its skiff attempting to crest a large wave in rough seas."> +</p> + +<p>To Joe it seemed as though he had been lifted out of himself—out of +the world. Ah, this was life! this was action! Surely it could not be +the old, commonplace world he had lived in so long! The sailors, grouped +on the streaming deck-load of the steamer, waved their sou'westers, and, +on the bridge, even the captain was expressing his admiration for the +plucky craft.</p> + +<p>"Ah, you see! you see!" French Pete pointed astern.</p> + +<p>The sloop-yacht had been afraid to venture it, and was skirting back +and forth on the inner edge of the bar. The chase was over. A pilot-boat, +running for shelter from the coming storm, flew by them like a frightened +bird, passing the steamer as though the latter were standing still.</p> + +<p>Half an hour later the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> sped beyond the last smoking sea and was +sliding up and down on the long Pacific swell. The wind had increased its +velocity and necessitated a reefing down of jib and mainsail. Then they +laid off again, full and free on the starboard tack, for the Farralones, +thirty miles away. By the time breakfast was cooked and eaten they picked +up the <span class="i">Reindeer</span>, which was hove to and working offshore to the south and +west. The wheel was lashed down, and there was not a soul on deck.</p> + +<p>French Pete complained bitterly against such recklessness. "Dat is ze one +fault of Red Nelson. He no care. He is afraid of not'ing. Some day he will +die, oh, so vaire queeck! I know he will."</p> + +<p>Three times they circled about the <span class="i">Reindeer</span>, running under her weather +quarter and shouting in chorus, before they brought anybody on deck. Sail +was then made at once, and together the two cockle-shells plunged away +into the vastness of the Pacific. This was necessary, as 'Frisco Kid +informed Joe, in order to have an offing before the whole fury of the +storm broke upon them. Otherwise they would be driven on the lee shore +of the California coast. Grub and water, he said, could be obtained by +running into the land when fine weather came. He congratulated Joe upon +the fact that he was not seasick, which circumstance likewise brought +praise from French Pete and put him in better humor with his mutinous +young sailor.</p> + +<p>"I 'll tell you what we 'll do," 'Frisco Kid whispered, while cooking +dinner. "To-night we 'll drag French Pete down—"</p> + +<p>"Drag French Pete down!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and tie him up good and snug, as soon as it gets dark; then put +out the lights and make a run for land; get to port anyway, anywhere, +just so long as we shake loose from Red Nelson."</p> + +<p>"Yes," Joe deliberated; "that would be all right—if I could do it +alone. But as for asking you to help me—why, that would be treason +to French Pete."</p> + +<p>"That 's what I 'm coming to. I 'll help you if you promise me a few +things. French Pete took me aboard when I ran away from the 'refuge,' +when I was starving and had no place to go, and I just can't repay him +for that by sending him to jail. 'T would n't be square. Your father +would n't have you break your word, would he?"</p> + +<p>"No; of course not." Joe knew how sacredly his father held his word +of honor.</p> + +<p>"Then you must promise, and your father must see it carried out, not +to press any charge against French Pete."</p> + +<p>"All right. And now, what about yourself? You can't very well expect +to go away with him again on the <span class="i">Dazzler</span>!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't bother about me. There 's nobody to miss me. I 'm strong +enough, and know enough about it, to ship to sea as ordinary seaman. +I 'll go away somewhere over on the other side of the world, and begin +all over again."</p> + +<p>"Then we 'll have to call it off, that 's all."</p> + +<p>"Call what off?"</p> + +<p>"Tying French Pete up and running for it."</p> + +<p>"No, sir. That 's decided upon."</p> + +<p>"Now listen here: I 'll not have a thing to do with it. I 'll go on to +Mexico first, if you don't make me one promise."</p> + +<p>"And what 's the promise?"</p> + +<p>"Just this: you place yourself in my hands from the moment we get ashore, +and trust to me. You don't know anything about the land, anyway—you said +so. And I 'll fix it with my father—I know I can—so that you can get to +know people of the right sort, and study and get an education, and be +something else than a bay pirate or a sailor. That 's what you 'd like, +is n't it?"</p> + +<p>Though he said nothing, 'Frisco Kid showed how well he liked it by the +expression of his face.</p> + +<p>"And it 'll be no more than your due, either," Joe continued. "You will +have stood by me, and you 'll have recovered my father's money. He 'll +owe it to you."</p> + +<p>"But I don't do things that way. I don't think much of a man who does +a favor just to be paid for it."</p> + +<p>"Now you keep quiet. How much do you think it would cost my father for +detectives and all that to recover that safe? Give me your promise, that +'s all, and when I 've got things arranged, if you don't like them you +can back out. Come on; that 's fair."</p> + +<p>They shook hands on the bargain, and proceeded to map out their line of +action for the night.</p> + +<HR class="small"> + +<p>But the storm, yelling down out of the northwest, had something entirely +different in store for the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> and her crew. By the time dinner was +over they were forced to put double reefs in mainsail and jib, and still +the gale had not reached its height. The sea, also, had been kicked up till +it was a continuous succession of water-mountains, frightful and withal +grand to look upon from the low deck of the sloop. It was only when the +sloops were tossed upon the crests of the waves at the same time that they +caught sight of each other. Occasional fragments of seas swashed into the +cockpit or dashed aft over the cabin, and Joe was stationed at the small +pump to keep the well dry.</p> + +<p>At three o'clock, watching his chance, French Pete motioned to the +<span class="i">Reindeer</span> that he was going to heave to and get out a sea-anchor. +This latter was of the nature of a large shallow canvas bag, with the +mouth held open by triangularly lashed spars. To this the towing-ropes +were attached, on the kite principle, so that the greatest resisting +surface was presented to the water. The sloop, drifting so much faster, +would thus be held bow on to both wind and sea—the safest possible +position in a storm. Red Nelson waved his hand in response that he +understood and to go ahead.</p> + +<p>French Pete went forward to launch the sea-anchor himself, leaving it +to 'Frisco Kid to put the helm down at the proper moment and run into +the wind. The Frenchman poised on the slippery fore-deck, waiting an +opportunity. But at that moment the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> lifted into an unusually +large sea, and, as she cleared the summit, caught a heavy snort of the +gale at the very instant she was righting herself to an even keel. Thus +there was not the slightest yield to this sudden pressure on her sails +and mast-gear.</p> + +<p>There was a quick snap, followed by a crash. The steel weather-rigging +carried away at the lanyards, and mast, jib, mainsail, blocks, stays, +sea-anchor, French Pete—everything—went over the side. Almost by a +miracle, the captain clutched at the bobstay and managed to get one hand +up and over the bowsprit. The boys ran forward to drag him into safety, +and Red Nelson, observing the disaster, put up his helm and ran down to +the rescue.</p> + +<HR class="medium"> + +<p class="chapter-head" id="Chapter_XX">CHAPTER XX</p> + +<p class="chapter-sub">PERILOUS HOURS</p> + +<p>French Pete was uninjured from the fall overboard with the <span class="i">Dazzler's</span> +mast; but the sea-anchor, which had gone with him, had not escaped so +easily. The gaff of the mainsail had been driven through it, and it +refused to work. The wreckage, thumping alongside, held the sloop in +a quartering slant to the seas—not so dangerous a position as it might +be, nor so safe, either. "Good-by, old-a <span class="i">Dazzler</span>. Never no more you +wipe ze eye of ze wind. Never no more you kick your heels at ze crack +gentlemen-yachts."</p> + +<p>So the captain lamented, standing in the cockpit and surveying the ruin +with wet eyes. Even Joe, who bore him great dislike, felt sorry for him +at this moment. A heavier blast of the wind caught the jagged crest of +a wave and hurled it upon the helpless craft.</p> + +<p>"Can't we save her?" Joe spluttered.</p> + +<p>'Frisco Kid shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Nor the safe?"</p> + +<p>"Impossible," he answered. "Could n't lay another boat alongside for a +United States mint. As it is, it 'll keep us guessing to save ourselves."</p> + +<p>Another sea swept over them, and the skiff, which had long since been +swamped, dashed itself to pieces against the stern. Then the <span class="i">Reindeer</span> +towered above them on a mountain of water. Joe caught himself half +shrinking back, for it seemed she would fall down squarely on top +of them; but the next instant she dropped into the gaping trough, +and they were looking down upon her far below. It was a striking +picture—one Joe was destined never to forget. The <span class="i">Reindeer</span> was +wallowing in the snow-white smother, her rails flush with the sea, +the water scudding across her deck in foaming cataracts. The air was +filled with flying spray, which made the scene appear hazy and unreal. +One of the men was clinging to the perilous after-deck and striving +to cast off the water-logged skiff. The boy, leaning far over the +cockpit-rail and holding on for dear life, was passing him a knife. +The second man stood at the wheel, putting it up with flying hands +and forcing the sloop to pay off. Beside him, his injured arm in a +sling, was Red Nelson, his sou'wester gone and his fair hair plastered +in wet, wind-blown ringlets about his face. His whole attitude breathed +indomitability, courage, strength. It seemed almost as though the divine +were blazing forth from him. Joe looked upon him in sudden awe, and, +realizing the enormous possibilities of the man, felt sorrow for the way +in which they had been wasted. A thief and a robber! In that flashing +moment Joe caught a glimpse of human truth, grasped at the mystery of +success and failure. Life threw back its curtains that he might read it +and understand. Of such stuff as Red Nelson were heroes made; but they +possessed wherein he lacked—the power of choice, the careful poise of +mind, the sober control of soul: in short, the very things his father +had so often "preached" to him about.</p> + +<p>These were the thoughts which came to Joe in the flight of a second. Then +the <span class="i">Reindeer</span> swept skyward and hurtled across their bow to leeward on +the breast of a mighty billow.</p> + +<p>"Ze wild man! ze wild man!" French Pete shrieked, watching her in +amazement. "He t'inks he can jibe! He will die! We will all die! He +must come about. Oh, ze fool, ze fool!"</p> + +<p>But time was precious, and Red Nelson ventured the chance. At the right +moment he jibed the mainsail over and hauled back on the wind.</p> + +<p>"Here she comes! Make ready to jump for it," 'Frisco Kid cried to Joe.</p> + +<p>The <span class="i">Reindeer</span> dashed by their stern, heeling over till the cabin windows +were buried, and so close that it appeared she must run them down. But a +freak of the waters lurched the two crafts apart. Red Nelson, seeing that +the manoeuver had miscarried, instantly instituted another. Throwing the +helm hard up, the <span class="i">Reindeer</span> whirled on her heel, thus swinging her +overhanging main-boom closer to the <span class="i">Dazzler</span>. French Pete was the +nearest, and the opportunity could last no longer than a second. Like +a cat he sprang, catching the foot-rope with both hands. Then the +<span class="i">Reindeer</span> forged ahead, dipping him into the sea at every plunge. But +he clung on, working inboard every time he emerged, till he dropped into +the cockpit as Red Nelson squared off to run down to leeward and repeat +the manoeuver.</p> + +<p class="img"> +<img width="395" height="580" src="TCotD07.png" id="TCotD07.png" + title='Pete clung on, working inboard every time he emerged, till he dropped into the cockpit.' + alt="Two ships on choppy water with a man hanging from a mainsail."> +</p> + +<p>"Your turn next," 'Frisco Kid said.</p> + +<p>"No; yours," Joe replied.</p> + +<p>"But I know more about the water," 'Frisco Kid insisted.</p> + +<p>"And I can swim as well as you," the other retorted.</p> + +<p>It would have been hard to forecast the outcome of this dispute; but, +as it was, the swift rush of events made any settlement needless. The +<span class="i">Reindeer</span> had jibed over and was plowing back at breakneck speed, +careening at such an angle that it seemed she must surely capsize. It +was a gallant sight. Just then the storm burst in all its fury, the +shouting wind flattening the ragged crests till they boiled. The +<span class="i">Reindeer</span> dipped from view behind an immense wave. The wave rolled +on, but the next moment, where the sloop had been, the boys noted with +startled eyes only the angry waters! Doubting, they looked a second time. +There was no <span class="i">Reindeer</span>. They were alone on the torn crest of the ocean!</p> + +<p>"God have mercy on their souls!" 'Frisco Kid said solemnly.</p> + +<p>Joe was too horrified at the suddenness of the catastrophe to utter +a sound.</p> + +<p>"Sailed her clean under, and, with the ballast she carried, went +straight to bottom," 'Frisco Kid gasped. Then, turning to their own +pressing need, he said: "Now we 've got to look out for ourselves. +The back of the storm broke in that puff, but the sea 'll kick up +worse yet as the wind eases down. Lend a hand and hang on with the +other. We 've got to get her head-on."</p> + +<p>Together, knives in hand, they crawled forward to where the pounding +wreckage hampered the boat sorely. 'Frisco Kid took the lead in the +ticklish work, but Joe obeyed orders like a veteran. Every minute or +two the bow was swept by the sea, and they were pounded and buffeted +about like a pair of shuttlecocks. First the main portion of the +wreckage was securely fastened to the forward bitts; then, breathless +and gasping, more often under the water than out, they cut and hacked +at the tangle of halyards, sheets, stays, and tackles. The cockpit was +taking water rapidly, and it was a race between swamping and completing +the task. At last, however, everything stood clear save the lee rigging. +'Frisco Kid slashed the lanyards. The storm did the rest. The <span class="i">Dazzler</span> +drifted swiftly to leeward of the wreckage till the strain on the line +fast to the forward bitts jerked her bow into place and she ducked dead +into the eye of the wind and sea.</p> + +<p>Pausing only for a cheer at the success of their undertaking, the two lads +raced aft, where the cockpit was half full and the dunnage of the cabin +all afloat. With a couple of buckets procured from the stern lockers, they +proceeded to fling the water overboard. It was heartbreaking work, for +many a barrelful was flung back upon them again; but they persevered, and +when night fell the <span class="i">Dazzler</span>, bobbing merrily at her sea-anchor, could +boast that her pumps sucked once more. As 'Frisco Kid had said, the +backbone of the storm was broken, though the wind had veered to the west, +where it still blew stiffly.</p> + +<p>"If she holds," 'Frisco Kid said, referring to the breeze, "we 'll drift +to the California coast sometime to-morrow. Nothing to do now but wait."</p> + +<p>They said little, oppressed by the loss of their comrades and overcome +with exhaustion, preferring to huddle against each other for the sake +of warmth and companionship. It was a miserable night, and they shivered +constantly from the cold. Nothing dry was to be obtained aboard, food, +blankets, everything being soaked with the salt water. Sometimes they +dozed; but these intervals were short and harassing, for it seemed each +took turn in waking with such sudden starts as to rouse the other.</p> + +<p>At last day broke, and they looked about. Wind and sea had dropped +considerably, and there was no question as to the safety of the +<span class="i">Dazzler</span>. The coast was nearer than they had expected, its cliffs +showing dark and forbidding in the gray of dawn. But with the rising +of the sun they could see the yellow beaches, flanked by the white +surf, and beyond—it seemed too good to be true—the clustering houses +and smoking chimneys of a town.</p> + +<p>"Santa Cruz!" 'Frisco Kid cried, "and no chance of being wrecked in +the surf!"</p> + +<p>"Then the safe <span class="i">is</span> safe?" Joe queried.</p> + +<p>"Safe! I should say so. It ain't much of a sheltered harbor for large +vessels, but with this breeze we 'll run right up the mouth of the +San Lorenzo River. Then there 's a little lake like, and a boat-house. +Water smooth as glass and hardly over your head. You see, I was down +here once before, with Red Nelson. Come on. We 'll be in in time for +breakfast."</p> + +<p>Bringing to light some spare coils of rope from the lockers, he put a +clove-hitch on the standing part of the sea-anchor hawser, and carried +the new running-line aft, making it fast to the stern bitts. Then he +cast off from the forward bitts. The <span class="i">Dazzler</span> swung off into the trough, +completed the evolution, and pointed her nose toward shore. A couple of +spare oars from below, and as many water-soaked blankets, sufficed to +make a jury-mast and sail. When this was in place, Joe cast loose from +the wreckage, which was now towing astern, while 'Frisco Kid took the +tiller.</p> + +<HR class="medium"> + +<p class="chapter-head" id="Chapter_XXI">CHAPTER XXI</p> + +<p class="chapter-sub">JOE AND HIS FATHER</p> + +<p>"How 's that?" cried 'Frisco Kid, as he finished making the <span class="i">Dazzler</span> +fast fore and aft, and sat down on the stringpiece of the tiny wharf. +"What 'll we do next, captain?"</p> + +<p>Joe looked up in quick surprise. "Why—I—what 's the matter?"</p> + +<p>"Well, ain't you captain now? Have n't we reached land? I 'm crew from +now on, ain't I? What 's your orders?"</p> + +<p>Joe caught the spirit of it. "Pipe all hands for breakfast—that is—wait +a minute."</p> + +<p>Diving below, he possessed himself of the money he had stowed away in his +bundle when he came aboard. Then he locked the cabin door, and they went +uptown in search of a restaurant. Over the breakfast Joe planned the next +move, and, when they had done, communicated it to 'Frisco Kid.</p> + +<p>In response to his inquiry, the cashier told him when the morning train +started for San Francisco. He glanced at the clock.</p> + +<p>"Just time to catch it," he said to 'Frisco Kid. "Keep the cabin doors +locked, and don't let anybody come aboard. Here 's money. Eat at the +restaurants. Dry your blankets and sleep in the cockpit. I 'll be back +to-morrow. And don't let anybody into that cabin. Good-by."</p> + +<p>With a hasty hand-grip, he sped down the street to the depot. The conductor +looked at him with surprise when he punched his ticket. And well he might, +for it was not the custom of his passengers to travel in sea-boots and +sou'westers. But Joe did not mind. He did not even notice. He had bought +a paper and was absorbed in its contents. Before long his eyes caught an +interesting paragraph:</p> + + <p class="bq-h">SUPPOSED TO HAVE BEEN LOST</p> + + <p class="bq">The tug <span class="i">Sea Queen</span>, chartered by Bronson & Tate, + has returned from a fruitless cruise outside the + Heads. No news of value could be obtained + concerning the pirates who so daringly carried + off their safe at San Andreas last Tuesday night. + The lighthouse-keeper at the Farralones mentions + having sighted the two sloops Wednesday morning, + clawing offshore in the teeth of the gale. It is + supposed by shipping men that they perished in + the storm with, their ill-gotten treasure. Rumor + has it that, in addition to the ten thousand + dollars in gold, the safe contained papers of + great importance. + </p> + +<p>When Joe had read this he felt a great relief. It was evident no one had +been killed at San Andreas the night of the robbery, else there would +have been some comment on it in the paper. Nor, if they had had any clue +to his own whereabouts, would they have omitted such a striking bit of +information.</p> + +<p>At the depot in San Francisco the curious onlookers were surprised to see +a boy clad conspicuously in sea-boots and sou'wester hail a cab and dash +away. But Joe was in a hurry. He knew his father's hours, and was fearful +lest he should not catch him before he went to lunch.</p> + +<p>The office-boy scowled at him when he pushed open the door and asked to see +Mr. Bronson; nor could the head clerk, when summoned by this disreputable +intruder, recognize him.</p> + +<p>"Don't you know me, Mr. Willis?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Willis looked a second time. "Why, it 's Joe Bronson! Of all things +under the sun, where did you drop from? Go right in. Your father 's in +there."</p> + +<p>Mr. Bronson stopped dictating to his stenographer and looked up. "Hello! +Where have you been?" he said.</p> + +<p>"To sea," Joe answered demurely, not sure of just what kind of a reception +he was to get, and fingering his sou'wester nervously.</p> + +<p>"Short trip, eh? How did you make out?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, so-so." He had caught the twinkle in his father's eye and knew that +it was all clear sailing. "Not so bad—er—that is, considering."</p> + +<p>"Considering?"</p> + +<p>"Well, not exactly that; rather, it might have been worse, while it +could n't have been better."</p> + +<p>"That 's interesting. Sit down." Then, turning to the stenographer: +"You may go, Mr. Brown, and—hum!—I won't need you any more to-day."</p> + +<p>It was all Joe could do to keep from crying, so kindly and naturally had +his father received him, making him feel at once as if not the slightest +thing uncommon had occurred. It seemed as if he had just returned from +a vacation, or, man-grown, had come back from some business trip.</p> + +<p>"Now go ahead, Joe. You were speaking to me a moment ago in conundrums, +and you have aroused my curiosity to a most uncomfortable degree."</p> + +<p>Whereupon Joe sat down and told what had happened—all that had +happened—from Monday night to that very moment. Each little incident +he related,—every detail,—not forgetting his conversations with +'Frisco Kid nor his plans concerning him. His face flushed and he was +carried away with the excitement of the narrative, while Mr. Bronson +was almost as eager, urging him on whenever he slackened his pace, +but otherwise remaining silent.</p> + +<p>"So you see," Joe concluded, "it could n't possibly have turned out +any better."</p> + +<p>"Ah, well," Mr. Bronson deliberated judiciously, "it may be so, and then +again it may not."</p> + +<p>"I don't see it." Joe felt sharp disappointment at his father's qualified +approval. It seemed to him that the return of the safe merited something +stronger.</p> + +<p>That Mr. Bronson fully comprehended the way Joe felt about it was clearly +in evidence, for he went on: "As to the matter of the safe, all hail to +you, Joe! Credit, and plenty of it, is your due. Mr. Tate and myself have +already spent five hundred dollars in attempting to recover it. So +important was it that we have also offered five thousand dollars reward, +and but this morning were considering the advisability of increasing the +amount. But, my son,"—Mr. Bronson stood up, resting a hand affectionately +on his boy's shoulder,—"there are certain things in this world which are +of still greater importance than gold, or papers which represent what gold +may buy. How about <span class="i">yourself</span>? That 's the point. Will you sell the best +possibilities of your life right now for a million dollars?"</p> + +<p>Joe shook his head.</p> + +<p>"As I said, that 's the point. A human life the money of the world cannot +buy; nor can it redeem one which is misspent; nor can it make full and +complete and beautiful a life which is dwarfed and warped and ugly. How +about yourself? What is to be the effect of all these strange adventures +on your life—<span class="i">your</span> life, Joe? Are you going to pick yourself up to-morrow +and try it over again? or the next day? or the day after? Do you +understand? Why, Joe, do you think for one moment that I would place +against the best value of my son's life the paltry value of a safe? And +<span class="i">can</span> I say, until time has told me, whether this trip of yours could not +possibly have been better? Such an experience is as potent for evil as +for good. One dollar is exactly like another—there are many in the world: +but no Joe is like my Joe, nor can there be any others in the world to +take his place. Don't you see, Joe? Don't you understand?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Bronson's voice broke slightly, and the next instant Joe was sobbing +as though his heart would break. He had never understood this father of +his before, and he knew now the pain he must have caused him, to say +nothing of his mother and sister. But the four stirring days he had +lived had given him a clearer view of the world and humanity, and he +had always possessed the power of putting his thoughts into speech; so +he spoke of these things and the lessons he had learned—the conclusions +he had drawn from his conversations with 'Frisco Kid, from his intercourse +with French Pete, from the graphic picture he retained of the <span class="i">Reindeer</span> +and Red Nelson as they wallowed in the trough beneath him. And Mr. Bronson +listened and, in turn, understood.</p> + +<p>"But what of 'Frisco Kid, father?" Joe asked when he had finished.</p> + +<p>"Hum! there seems to be a great deal of promise in the boy, from what +you say of him." Mr. Bronson hid the twinkle in his eye this time. "And, +I must confess, he seems perfectly capable of shifting for himself."</p> + +<p>"Sir?" Joe could not believe his ears.</p> + +<p>"Let us see, then. He is at present entitled to the half of five +thousand dollars, the other half of which belongs to you. It was +you two who preserved the safe from the bottom of the Pacific, and +if you only had waited a little longer, Mr. Tate and myself would +have increased the reward."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" Joe caught a glimmering of the light. "Part of that is easily +arranged. I simply refuse to take my half. As to the other—that is n't +exactly what 'Frisco Kid desires. He wants friends—and—and—though +you did n't say so, they are far higher than money, nor can money buy +them. He wants friends and a chance for an education, not twenty-five +hundred dollars."</p> + +<p>"Don't you think it would be better for him to choose for himself?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, no. That 's all arranged."</p> + +<p>"Arranged?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. He 's captain on sea, and I 'm captain on land. So he 's under +my charge now."</p> + +<p>"Then you have the power of attorney for him in the present negotiations? +Good. I 'll make you a proposition. The twenty-five hundred dollars shall +be held in trust by me, on his demand at any time. We 'll settle about +yours afterward. Then he shall be put on probation for, say, a year—in +our office. You can either coach him in his studies, for I am confident +now that you will be up in yours hereafter, or he can attend night-school. +And after that, if he comes through his period of probation with flying +colors, I 'll give him the same opportunities for an education that you +possess. It all depends on himself. And now, Mr. Attorney, what have you +to say to my offer in the interests of your client?"</p> + +<p>"That I close with it at once."</p> + +<p>Father and son shook hands.</p> + +<p>"And what are you going to do now, Joe?"</p> + +<p>"Send a telegram to 'Frisco Kid first, and then hurry home."</p> + +<p>"Then wait a minute till I call up San Andreas and tell Mr. Tate the +good news, and then I 'll go with you."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Willis," Mr. Bronson said as they left the outer office, "the +San Andreas safe is recovered, and we 'll all take a holiday. Kindly +tell the clerks that they are free for the rest of the day. And I +say," he called back as they entered the elevator, "don't forget the +office-boy."</p> + +<HR class="large"> + + + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Cruise of the Dazzler, by Jack London + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRUISE OF THE DAZZLER *** + +***** This file should be named 11051-h.htm or 11051-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/0/5/11051/ + +Produced by Justin Gillbank and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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