there were two of us, and George had a pistol to fall back on if it
came to the worst. And here, as with my junk, four Chinese were
transferred to the sloop and one left behind to take care of
things.

Four more were added to our passenger list from the third junk. By
this time the salmon boat had collected its twelve prisoners and
came alongside, badly overloaded. To make matters worse, as it was
a small boat, the patrolmen were so jammed in with their prisoners
that they would have little chance in case of trouble.

"You'll have to help us out," said Le Grant.

I looked over my prisoners, who had crowded into the cabin and on
top of it. "I can take three," I answered.

"Make it four," he suggested, "and I'll take Bill with me." (Bill
was the third patrolman.) "We haven't elbow room here, and in case
of a scuffle one white to every two of them will be just about the
right proportion."

The exchange was made, and the salmon boat got up its spritsail and
headed down the bay toward the marshes off San Rafael. I ran up
the jib and followed with the Reindeer. San Rafael, where we were
to turn our catch over to the authorities, communicated with the
bay by way of a long and tortuous slough, or marshland creek, which
could be navigated only when the tide was in. Slack water had
come, and, as the ebb was commencing, there was need for hurry if
we cared to escape waiting half a day for the next tide.