yellow handkerchief and pock-marked face came toward me threateningly,
but I put my hand into my hip pocket, and he hesitated. I was unarmed,
but the Chinese have learned to be fastidiously careful of American hip
pockets, and it was upon this that I depended to keep him and his
savage crew at a distance.

I ordered him to drop the anchor at the junk's bow, to which he replied,
"No sabbe." The crew responded in like fashion, and though I made my
meaning plain by signs, they refused to understand. Realizing the
inexpediency of discussing the matter, I went forward myself, overran
the line, and let the anchor go.

"Now get aboard, four of you," I said in a loud voice, indicating with
my fingers that four of them were to go with me and the fifth was to
remain by the junk. The Yellow Handkerchief hesitated; but I repeated
the order fiercely (much more fiercely than I felt), at the same time
sending my hand to my hip. Again the Yellow Handkerchief was overawed,
and with surly looks he led three of his men aboard the _Reindeer_. I
cast off at once, and, leaving the jib down, steered a course for
George's junk. Here it was easier, for 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