The breath of the sea now came strong, spray came inboard from the meeting of wind and ebb tide and the Wear Jack began to thrash at the tumble coming in from the bar.
Under Lime Point she came about on the port tack, taking the middle passage. Then beyond Pont Bonito came the tumble of the bar. The wind was not more than a steady sailing breeze but the long rollers coming in from Japan gave them all the trouble they wanted, though the Wear Jack, proving her good qualities, shipped scarcely a bucket full. Then the sea smoothed down to a glassy breeze-spangled swell and the schooner, with the loom of the land far on her port quarter, spread her wings beneath the moon for the south.
CHAPTER XII
OUT
CANDON handed the wheel over to Hank. “Well, we’re out,” said he. “Keep her as she goes, the coast’s a straight line down to Point San Pedro, and I don’t want to clear it by more than ten miles.” He lit a pipe and walked to the port rail, where he stood with the pipe in his mouth and his hands on the rail looking at the land.
George stood beside him. The crew had vanished to the foc’sle, now that everything was comfortable, leaving the deck to the three white men; no watches had been picked nor was there a look-out. George remarked on the fact and Candon laughed.
“I’d just as soon leave the Chinks below,” said he, “and run her ourselves for the rest of the watch. Half a man could handle her as the wind is, and as for a look-out, why I reckon nothing could sink us to-night. Boys, I’m sure bughouse, I never took a ship out of ’Frisco bay before two hours ago.”
“You what!” said George.