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."

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 _Dazzler_ 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.

CHAPTER XXI

JOE AND HIS FATHER

"How 's that?" cried 'Frisco Kid, as he finished making the _Dazzler_
fast fore and aft, and sat down on the stringpiece of the tiny wharf.
"What 'll we do next, captain?"

Joe looked up in quick surprise. "Why--I--what 's the matter?"

"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?"

Joe caught the spirit of it. "Pipe all hands for breakfast--that is--wait
a minute."

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.

In response to his inquiry, the cashier told him when the morning train
started for San Francisco. He glanced at the clock.

"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."

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:

SUPPOSED TO HAVE BEEN LOST

The tug _Sea Queen_, chartered by Bronson & Tate,