rge sails and the healthy breeze romping up the Carquinez
Straits, we found that our sailing was what is called "ticklish." We
had to be constantly on the alert to avoid a capsize, and while
Charley steered I held the main-sheet in my hand with but a single
turn round a pin, ready to let go at any moment. Demetrios, we could
see, sailing his boat alone, had his hands full.

But it was a vain undertaking for us to attempt to catch him. Out of
his inner consciousness he had evolved a boat that was better than
ours. And though Charley sailed fully as well, if not the least bit
better, the boat he sailed was not so good as the Greek's.

"Slack away the sheet," Charley commanded; and as our boat fell off
before the wind, Demetrios's mocking laugh floated down to us.

Charley shook his head, saying, "It's no use. Demetrios has the
better boat. If he tries his performance again, we must meet it with
some new scheme."

This time it was my imagination that came to the rescue.

"What's the matter," I suggested, on the Wednesday following, "with my
chasing Demetrios in the boat next Sunday, while you wait for him on
the wharf at Vallejo when he arrives?"

Charley considered it a moment and slapped his knee.

"A good idea! You're beginning to use that head of yours. A credit to
your teacher, I must say."

"But you mustn't chase him too far," he went on, the next moment, "or
he'll head out into San Pablo Bay instead of running home to Vallejo,
and there I'll be, standing lonely on the wharf and waiting in vain
for him to arrive."

On Thursday Charley registered an objection to my plan.

"Everybody'll know I've gone to Vallejo, and you can depend upon it
that Demetrios will know, too. I'm afraid we'll have to give up the
idea."

This objection was only too valid, and for the rest of the day I
struggled under my disappointment. But that night a new way seemed to
open to me, and in my eagerness I awoke Charley from a sound sleep.

"Well," he grunted, "what's the matter? House afire?"

"No," I replied, "but my head is. Listen to this. On Sunday you and I
will be around Benicia up to the very moment Demetrios's sail heaves
into sight. This will lull everybody's suspicions. Then, when
Demetrios's sail does heave in sight, do you stroll leisurely away and
up-town. All the fishermen will think you're beaten and that you know
you're beaten."

"So far, so good," Charley commented, while I paused to catch breath.

"And very