on," she said.

"Your name?"

"My first name."

"Gee!" he cried. "You're lucky. Now if mine had been only Erling--you
know, Erling the Bold--or Wolf, or Swen, or Jarl!"

"What is it?" she asked.

"Only John," he admitted sadly. "But I don't let 'em call one John.
Everybody's got to call me Jack. I've scrapped with a dozen fellows
that tried to call me John, or Johnnie--wouldn't that make you
sick?--Johnnie!"

They were now off the coal bunkers of Long Wharf, and the boy put the
skiff about, heading toward San Francisco. They were well out in the
open bay. The west wind had strengthened and was whitecapping the strong
ebb tide. The boat drove merrily along. When splashes of spray flew
aboard, wetting them, Saxon laughed, and the boy surveyed her with
approval. They passed a ferryboat, and the passengers on the upper deck
crowded to one side to watch them. In the swell of the steamer's wake,
the skiff shipped quarter-full of water. Saxon picked up an empty can
and looked at the boy.

"That's right," he said. "Go ahead an' bale out." And, when she had
finished: "We'll fetch Goat Island next tack. Right there off the
Torpedo Station is where we fish, in fifty feet of water an' the tide
runnin' to beat the band. You're wringing wet, ain't you? Gee! You're
like your name. You're a Saxon, all right. Are you married?"

Saxon nodded, and the boy frowned.

"What'd you want to do that for. Now you can't wander over the world
like I'm going to. You're tied down. You're anchored for keeps."

"It's pretty good to be married, though," she smiled.

"Sure, everybody gets married. But that's no reason to be in a rush
about it. Why couldn't you wait a while, like me, I'm goin' to get
married, too, but not until I'm an old man an' have been everywheres."

Under the lee of Goat Island, Saxon obediently sitting still, he took in
the sail, and, when the boat had drifted to a position to suit him, he
dropped a tiny anchor. He got out the fish lines and showed Saxon how
to bait her hooks with salted minnows. Then they dropped the lines to
bottom, where they vibrated in the swift tide, and waited for bites.

"They'll bite pretty soon," he encouraged. "I've never failed but twice
to catch a mess here. What d'ye say we eat while we're waiting?"

Vainly she protested she was not hungry. He shared his lunch with her
with a boy's rigid equity, even to the half of a hard-boiled egg and the
half of a big red apple.

Still the rockcod