ly discovered that it was not so much a
matter of swimming as of breathing.

I was beaten and buffeted, smashed under by the great San Pablo
whitecaps, and strangled by the hollow tide-rip waves which flung
themselves into my eyes, nose, and mouth. Then the strange sucks would
grip my legs and drag me under, to spout me up in some fierce boiling,
where, even as I tried to catch my breath, a great whitecap would
crash down upon my head.

It was impossible to survive any length of time. I was breathing more
water than air, and drowning all the time. My senses began to leave
me, my head to whirl around. I struggled on, spasmodically,
instinctively, and was barely half conscious when I felt myself caught
by the shoulders and hauled over the gunwale of a boat.

For some time I lay across a seat where I had been flung, face
downward, and with the water running out of my mouth. After a while,
still weak and faint, I turned around to see who was my rescuer. And
there, in the stern, sheet in one hand and tiller in the other,
grinning and nodding good-naturedly, sat Demetrios Contos. He had
intended to leave me to drown,--he said so afterward,--but his better
self had fought the battle, conquered, and sent him back to me.

"You all-a right?" he asked.

I managed to shape a "yes" on my lips, though I could not yet speak.

"You sail-a de boat verr-a good-a," he said. "So good-a as a man."

A compliment from Demetrios Contos was a compliment indeed, and I
keenly appreciated it, though I could only nod my head in
acknowledgment.

We held no more conversation, for I was busy recovering and he was
busy with the boat. He ran in to the wharf at Vallejo, made the boat
fast, and helped me out. Then it was, as we both stood on the wharf,
that Charley stepped out from behind a net-rack and put his hand on
Demetrios Contos's arm.

"He saved my life, Charley," I protested; "and I don't think he ought
to be arrested."

A puzzled expression came into Charley's face, which cleared
immediately after, in a way it had when he made up his mind.

"I can't help it, lad," he said kindly. "I can't go back on my duty,
and it's plain duty to arrest him. To-day is Sunday; there are two
salmon in his boat which he caught to-day. What else can I do?"

"But he saved my life," I persisted, unable to make any other
argument.

[Illustration: "There, in the stern, sat Demetrios Contos."]

Demetrios Contos's face went black with rage when he learn