en a revolver in the man's hand went
off like the roar of a cannon. All Joe realized was that he was being
shot at, while his legs manifested an overwhelming desire to get away.
Even if he had so wished, he could not very well have stayed to explain
to the excited man with the smoking revolver. So he took to his heels
for the beach, colliding with another man with a dark lantern who came
running around the end of one of the piles of iron. This second man
quickly regained his feet, and peppered away at Joe as he flew down
the bank.

He dashed out into the water for the boat. French Pete at the bow-oars and
'Frisco Kid at the stroke had the skiff's nose pointed seaward and were
calmly awaiting his arrival. They had their oars ready for the start, but
they held them quietly at rest, for all that both men on the bank had begun
to fire at them. The other skiff lay closer inshore, partially aground.
Bill was trying to shove it off, and was calling on the Cockney to lend a
hand; but that gentleman had lost his head completely, and came floundering
through the water hard after Joe. No sooner had Joe climbed in over the
stern than he followed him. This extra weight on the stern of the heavily
loaded craft nearly swamped them. As it was, a dangerous quantity of water
was shipped. In the meantime the men on the bank had reloaded their pistols
and opened fire again, this time with better aim. The alarm had spread.
Voices and cries could be heard from the ships on the pier, along which
men were running. In the distance a police whistle was being frantically
blown.

"Get out!" 'Frisco Kid shouted. "You ain't a-going to sink us if I know
it. Go and help your pardner."

But the Cockney's teeth were chattering with fright, and he was too
unnerved to move or speak.

"T'row ze crazy man out!" French Pete ordered from the bow. At this moment
a bullet shattered an oar in his hand, and he coolly proceeded to ship a
spare one.

"Give us a hand, Joe," 'Frisco Kid commanded.

Joe understood, and together they seized the terror-stricken creature
and flung him overboard. Two or three bullets splashed about him as he
came to the surface, just in time to be picked up by Bill, who had at
last succeeded in getting clear.

"Now!" French Pete called, and a few strokes into the darkness quickly
took them out of the zone of fire.

So much water had been shipped that the light skiff was in danger of
sinking at any moment. While the other two row