sky Bob!--without viciousness, good-natured, generous,
born weak, raised poorly, with an irresistible chemical demand for
alcohol, still prosecuting his vocation of bay pirate, his body was
picked up, not long afterward, beside a dock where it had sunk full of
gunshot wounds.) Within an hour after I had rejected Captain Spink's
proposal, I saw him sail down the estuary on board the Reindeer with
Nelson. Also, French Frank went by on his schooner.

It was not long ere they sailed back up the estuary, curiously side by
side. As they headed in for the sandspit, the submerged salmon boat
could be seen, gunwales awash and held up from sinking by ropes fast to
the schooner and the sloop. The tide was half out, and they sailed
squarely in on the sand, grounding in a row, with the salmon boat in the
middle.

Immediately Hans, one of French Frank's sailors, was into a skiff and
pulling rapidly for the north shore. The big demijohn in the
stern-sheets told his errand. They couldn't wait a moment to celebrate
the fifty dollars they had so easily earned. It is the way of the
devotees of John Barleycorn. When good fortune comes, they drink. When
they have no fortune, they drink to the hope of good fortune. If fortune
be ill, they drink to forget it. If they meet a friend, they drink. If
they quarrel with a friend and lose him, they drink. If their
love-making be crowned with success, they are so happy they needs must
drink. If they be jilted, they drink for the contrary reason. And if
they haven't anything to do at all, why, they take a drink, secure in the
knowledge that when they have taken a sufficient number of drinks the
maggots will start crawling in their brains and they will have their
hands full with things to do. When they are sober they want to drink;
and when they have drunk they want to drink more.

Of course, as fellow comrades, Scotty and I were called in for the
drinking. We helped to make a hole in that fifty dollars not yet
received. The afternoon, from just an ordinary common summer Sunday
afternoon, became a gorgeous, purple afternoon. We all talked and sang
and ranted and bragged, and ever French Frank and Nelson sent more drinks
around. We lay in full sight of the Oakland water-front, and the noise
of our revels attracted friends. Skiff after skiff crossed the estuary
and hauled up on the sandspit, while Hans' work was cut out for him--ever
to row back and forth for more supplies of booze