"Guess they 're all right," 'Frisco Kid rejoined. "All ready?" "Yes--all right here." "Say, you," the man on the yacht cried through the skylight, not venturing to show his head. "You 'd better go away." "And you 'd better stay below and keep quiet," was the response. "We 'll take care of ourselves. You do the same." "If I was only out of this, I 'd show you!" he threatened. "Lucky for you you 're not," responded the boy on the _Reindeer_; and thereat the man kept quiet. "Here they come!" said 'Frisco Kid suddenly to Joe. The two skiffs shot out of the darkness and came alongside. Some kind of an altercation was going on, as French Pete's voice attested. "No, no!" he cried. "Put it on ze _Dazzler_. Ze _Reindeer_ she sail too fast-a, and run away, oh, so queeck, and never more I see it. Put it on ze _Dazzler_. Eh? Wot you say?" "All right then," Red Nelson agreed. "We 'll whack up afterwards. But, say, hurry up. Out with you, lads, and heave her up! My arm 's broke." The men tumbled out, ropes were cast inboard, and all hands, with the exception of Joe, tailed on. The shouting of men, the sound of oars, and the rattling and slapping of blocks and sails, told that the men on shore were getting under way for the pursuit. "Now!" Red Nelson commanded. "All together! Don't let her come back or you 'll smash the skiff. There she takes it! A long pull and a strong pull! Once again! And yet again! Get a turn there, somebody, and take a spell." Though the task was but half accomplished, they were exhausted by the strenuous effort, and hailed the rest eagerly. Joe glanced over the side to discover what the heavy object might be, and saw the vague outlines of a small office-safe. "Now all together!" Red Nelson began again. "Take her on the run and don't let her stop! Yo, ho! heave, ho! Once again! And another! Over with her!" Straining and gasping, with tense muscles and heaving chests, they brought the cumbersome weight over the side, rolled it on top of the rail, and lowered it into the cockpit on the run. The cabin doors were thrown apart, and it was moved along, end for end, till it lay on the cabin floor, snug against the end of the centerboard-case. Red Nelson had followed it aboard to superintend. His left arm hung helpless at his side, and from the finger-tips blood dripped with monotonous regularity. He did not seem to mind it, however, nor even the mutterings of the human storm he had raised ashore, and which, to judge by the sounds, was even then threatening to break upon them. "Lay your course for the Golden Gate," he said to French Pete, as he turned to go. "I 'll try to stand by you, but if you get lost in the dark I 'll meet you outside, off the Farralones, in the morning." He sprang into the skiff after the men, and, with a wave of his uninjured arm, cried heartily: "And then it 's for Mexico, my lads--Mexico and summer weather!"