By now the last of the fog had vanished， and Charley’sestimate of our position was confirmed by the sight ofMcNear’s Landing a short half-mile away. Following alongthe west shore， we rounded Point Pedro in plain view ofthe Chinese shrimp villages， and a great to- do was raisedwhen they saw one of their junks towing behind thefamiliar fish patrol sloop.
The wind， coming off the land， was rather puffy anduncertain， and it would have been more to our advantagehad it been stronger. San Rafael Creek， up which we hadto go to reach the town and turn over our prisoners to theauthorities， ran through wide-stretching marshes， and wasdifficult to navigate on a falling tide， while at low tide itwas impossible to navigate at all. So， with the tide alreadyhalf-ebbed， it was necessary for us to make time. This theheavy junk prevented， lumbering along behind and holdingthe Reindeer back by just so much dead weight.
“Tell those coolies to get up that sail，” Charley finallycalled to me. “We don’t want to hang up on the mud flatsfor the rest of the night.”
I repeated the order to Yellow Handkerchief， whomumbled it huskily to his men. He was suffering from abad cold， which doubled him up in convulsive coughingspells and made his eyes heavy and bloodshot. This madehim more evil-looking than ever， and when he glaredviciously at me I remembered with a shiver the close shaveI had had with him at the time of his previous arrest.
His crew sullenly tailed on to the halyards， and thestrange， outlandish sail， lateen in rig and dyed a warmbrown， rose in the air. We were sailing on the wind， andwhen Yellow Handkerchief flattened down the sheet thejunk forged ahead and the tow-line went slack. Fast as theReindeer could sail， the junk outsailed her； and to avoidrunning her down I hauled a little closer on the wind. Butthe junk likewise outpointed， and in a couple of minutesI was abreast of the Reindeer and to windward. The towlinehad now tautened， at right angles to the two boats，and the predicament was laughable.
“Cast off！” I shouted.
Charley hesitated.
“It’s all right，” I added. “Nothing can happen. We’llmake the creek on this tack， and you’ll be right behind meall the way up to San Rafael.”
At this Charley cast off， and Yellow Handkerchiefsent one of his men forward to haul in the line. In thegathering darkness I could just make out the mouth ofSan Rafael Creek， and by the time we entered it I couldbarely see its banks. The Reindeer was fully five minutesastern， and we continued to leave her astern as we beat upthe narrow， winding channel. With Charley behind us， itseemed I had little to fear from my five prisoners； but thedarkness prevented my keeping a sharp eye on them， soI transferred my revolver from my trousers pocket to theside pocket of my coat， where I could more quickly putmy hand on it.
Yellow Handkerchief was the one I feared， and that heknew it and made use of it， subsequent events will show.
He was sitting a few feet away from me， on what thenhappened to be the weather side of the junk. I couldscarcely see the outlines of his form， but I soon becameconvinced that he was slowly， very slowly， edging closer tome. I watched him carefully. Steering with my left hand，I slipped my right into my pocket and got hold of therevolver.
I saw him shift along for a couple of inches， and I wasjust about to order him back—the words were tremblingon the tip of my tongue—when I was struck with greatforce by a heavy figure that had leaped through the airupon me from the lee side. It was one of the crew. Hepinioned my right arm so that I could not withdraw myhand from my pocket， and at the same time clappedhis other hand over my mouth. Of course， I could havestruggled away from him and freed my hand or gotten mymouth clear so that I might cry an alarm， but in a triceYellow Handkerchief was on top of me.
I struggled around to no purpose in the bottom ofthe junk， while my legs and arms were tied and mymouth securely bound in what I afterward found tobe a cotton shirt. Then I was left lying in the bottom.
Yellow Handkerchief took the tiller， issuing his orders inwhispers； and from our position at the time， and from thealteration of the sail， which I could dimly make out aboveme as a blot against the stars， I knew the junk was beingheaded into the mouth of a small slough which emptied atthat point into San Rafael Creek.
In a couple of minutes we ran softly alongside thebank， and the sail was silently lowered. The Chinese keptvery quiet. Yellow Handkerchief sat down in the bottomalongside of me， and I could feel him straining to represshis raspy， hacking cough. Possibly seven or eight minuteslater I heard Charley’s voice as the Reindeer went past themouth of the slough.
“I can’t tell you how relieved I am，” I could plainly hearhim saying to Neil， “that the lad has finished with the fishpatrol without accident.”
Here Neil said something which I could not catch， andthen Charley’s voice went on：
“The youngster takes naturally to the water， and if， whenhe finishes high school， he takes a course in navigation andgoes deep sea， I see no reason why he shouldn’t rise to bemaster of the finest and biggest ship afloat.”
It was all very flattering to me， but lying there， boundand gagged by my own prisoners， with the voices growingfaint and fainter as the Reindeer slipped on through thedarkness toward San Rafael， I must say I was not in quitethe proper situation to enjoy my smiling future. With theReindeer went my last hope. What was to happen next Icould not imagine， for the Chinese were a different racefrom mine， and from what I knew I was confident thatfair play was no part of their make-up.
After waiting a few minutes longer， the crew hoisted thelateen sail， and Yellow Handkerchief steered down towardthe mouth of San Rafael Creek. The tide was gettinglower， and he had difficulty in escaping the mud-banks.
I was hoping he would run aground， but he succeeded inmaking the Bay without accident.
