y white
skipper and white mates. They'll all stick together for a
five-dollar bill and swear they never was on the beach at all. If
they do, how're we goin' to prove it?"

"That's logic," the eavesdropping Gibney murmured to the
binnacle.

"Oh, hell's bells, shut up and let's go home," Dan Hicks cried
wearily. "We can catch him when he comes in."

"Suppose he doesn't come in. Suppose he's bound for Seattle,
Dan."

"We can libel him wherever he goes."

"I'll bet he gave us a fictitious name, Dan!"

"Stow that grief, Jack. Stow it, or I'll go mad. The _Bodega_ has
more speed than the _Aphrodite_, so poke ahead there and let's
try to get in an hour's sleep before daylight. If you can't feel
your way in I can."

"I'll just tag along silent and lazy-like after you two
misfortunates," Mr. Gibney decided, "an' you'll do my whistlin'
for me." He called Scraggs on the howler and explained the
situation. "Regular Cook's tour," he exulted. "Personally
conducted. Off again, on again, away again, Finnegan--and not a
nickel's worth of loss unless you count them vegetables you hove
at McGuffey. Ain't you proud o' your navigatin' officer,
Scraggsy, old tarpot?"

"I am, Gib, but I'll be prouder'n ever if you can follow them
towboats in without havin' to claw off Baker's beach or the Point
Bonita rocks."

"Calamity howler," Gibney growled. Half an hour later he caught
the echo of the _Bodega's_ whistle as the sound was hurled back
from the high cliffs at Land's End, off to starboard. A minute
later he heard the hoarse growl of the siren from the fog station
on Point Bonita, on the port beam. He knew where he was now with
as much certainty as if he was navigating in broad daylight, so
he loafed along a couple of hundred yards behind the _Bodega_,
until the _Maggie_ ceased pitching--when he knew he was in the
still water inside the entrance. So he sheered over to starboard,
with Neils Halvorsen heaving the lead, and dropped anchor in five
fathoms under the lee of Fort Mason. He was quite confident of
his ability to sneak along the waterfront and creep into the
_Maggie's_ berth at Jackson Street bulkhead, but having gone
astray in his calculations once that night, a vagrant sense of
consideration for Captain Scraggs decided him to take no more
risks until the fog should lift. He could hear the _Bodega_ and
the _Aphrodite_ tooting as they continued down the bay, so he
knew they were headed for their berths at the foot of Broa