“May I ask for the loan of your stylographic pen?” said Candon.
“Sure,” said Hank. “Do you want some paper?”
“I was going to ask for some,” said the other.
Hank went below and fetched up a wad of note paper, some envelopes and the pen.
“Thanks,” said Candon, and went off to the foc’sle. It was his watch below.
CHAPTER XXXVIII
THE ANCHOR TAKES THE MUD
SOME days later towards noon, the Heart of Ireland, with the north-west wind and a flooding tide, was making to enter the Golden Gate.
It was a perfect day. Tamalpais, on the port bow, showed clear against a diamond-bright blue sky; astern lay the sea of adventure and romance, blue as when first sighted by Balboa.