ed in their oars and
sullenly submitted to arrest.

"Well, Charley," Neil Partington said, as we discussed it on the wharf
afterward, "I fail to see where your boasted imagination came into
play this time."

But Charley was true to his hobby. "Imagination?" he demanded,
pointing to the _Streak_. "Look at that! Just look at it! If the
invention of that isn't imagination, I should like to know what is."

"Of course," he added, "it's the other fellow's imagination, but it
did the work all the same."

V

CHARLEY'S COUP

Perhaps our most laughable exploit on the fish patrol, and at the same
time our most dangerous one, was when we rounded in, at a single haul,
an even score of wrathful fishermen. Charley called it a "coop,"
having heard Neil Partington use the term; but I think he
misunderstood the word, and thought it meant "coop," to catch, to
trap. The fishermen, however, coup or coop, must have called it a
Waterloo, for it was the severest stroke ever dealt them by the fish
patrol, while they had invited it by open and impudent defiance of the
law.

During what is called the "open season" the fishermen might catch as
many salmon as their luck allowed and their boats could hold. But
there was one important restriction. From sun-down Saturday night to
sun-up Monday morning, they were not permitted to set a net. This was
a wise provision on the part of the Fish Commission, for it was
necessary to give the spawning salmon some opportunity to ascend the
river and lay their eggs. And this law, with only an occasional
violation, had been obediently observed by the Greek fishermen who
caught salmon for the canneries and the market.

One Sunday morning, Charley received a telephone call from a friend in
Collinsville, who told him that the full force of fishermen was out
with its nets. Charley and I jumped into our salmon boat and started
for the scene of the trouble. With a light favoring wind at our back
we went through the Carquinez Straits, crossed Suisun Bay, passed the
Ship Island Light, and came upon the whole fleet at work.

But first let me describe the method by which they worked. The net
used is what is known as a gill-net. It has a simple diamond-shaped
mesh which measures at least seven and one-half inches between the
knots. From five to seven and even eight hundred feet in length, these
nets are only a few feet wide. They are not stationary, but float with
the current, the upper edge supported on