Henderson's skull was fractured. Yet Otto Frank had been hanged for it
just the same.

She wrung her hands and wept loudly as she stumbled among the windy
rocks. The hours passed, and she was lost to herself and her grief. When
she came to she found herself on the far end of the wall where it jutted
into the bay between the Oakland and Alameda Moles. But she could see
no wall. It was the time of the full moon, and the unusual high tide
covered the rocks. She was knee deep in the water, and about her knees
swam scores of big rock rats, squeaking and fighting, scrambling to
climb upon her out of the flood. She screamed with fright and horror,
and kicked at them. Some dived and swam away under water; others circled
about her warily at a distance; and one big fellow laid his teeth into
her shoe. Him she stepped on and crushed with her free foot. By this
time, though still trembling, she was able coolly to consider the
situation. She waded to a stout stick of driftwood a few feet away, and
with this quickly cleared a space about herself.

A grinning small boy, in a small, bright-painted and half-decked skiff,
sailed close in to the wall and let go his sheet to spill the wind.
"Want to get aboard?" he called.

"Yes," she answered. "There are thousands of big rats here. I'm afraid
of them."

He nodded, ran close in, spilled the wind from his sail, the boat's way
carrying it gently to her.

"Shove out its bow," he commanded. "That's right. I don't want to break
my centerboard.... An' then jump aboard in the stern--quick!--alongside
of me."

She obeyed, stepping in lightly beside him. He held the tiller up with
his elbow, pulled in on the sheet, and as the sail filled the boat
sprang away over the rippling water.

"You know boats," the boy said approvingly.

He was a slender, almost frail lad, of twelve or thirteen years, though
healthy enough, with sunburned freckled face and large gray eyes that
were clear and wistful.

Despite his possession of the pretty boat, Saxon was quick to sense that
he was one of them, a child of the people.

"First boat I was ever in, except ferryboats," Saxon laughed.

He looked at her keenly. "Well, you take to it like a duck to water is
all I can say about it. Where d'ye want me to land you?"

"Anywhere."

He opened his mouth to speak, gave her another long look, considered for
a space, then asked suddenly: "Got plenty of time?"

She nodded.

"All day?"

Again she nodded.