The afternoon sea-breeze had sprung up and was now rioting in from the Pacific.  Angel Island was fast dropping astern, and the water-front of San Francisco showing up, as the Dazzler plowed along before it.  Soon they were in the midst of the shipping, passing in and out among the vessels which had come from the ends of the earth.  Later they crossed the fairway, where the ferry steamers, crowded with passengers, passed to and fro between San Francisco and Oakland.  One came so close that the passengers crowded to the side to see the gallant little sloop and the two boys in the cockpit.  Joe gazed enviously at the row of down-turned faces.  They were all going to their homes, while he—­he was going he knew not whither, at the will of French Pete.  He was half tempted to cry out for help; but the foolishness of such an act struck him, and he held his tongue.  Turning his head, his eyes wandered along the smoky heights of the city, and he fell to musing on the strange way of men and ships on the sea.

’Frisco Kid watched him from the corner of his eye, following his thoughts as accurately as though he spoke them aloud.

“Got a home over there somewheres?” he queried suddenly, waving his hand in the direction of the city.

Joe started, so correctly had his thought been guessed.  “Yes,” he said simply.

“Tell us about it.”

Joe rapidly described his home, though forced to go into greater detail because of the curious questions of his companion.  ’Frisco Kid was interested in everything, especially in Mrs. Bronson and Bessie.  Of the latter he could not seem to tire, and poured forth question after question concerning her.  So peculiar and artless were some of them that Joe could hardly forbear to smile.

“Now tell me about yours,” he said when he at last had finished.

’Frisco Kid seemed suddenly to harden, and his face took on a stern look which the other had never seen there before.  He swung his foot idly to and fro, and lifted a dull eye aloft to the main-peak blocks, with which, by the way, there was nothing the matter.

“Go ahead,” the other encouraged.

“I have n’t no home.”

The four words left his mouth as though they had been forcibly ejected, and his lips came together after them almost with a snap.

Joe saw he had touched a tender spot, and strove to ease the way out of it again.  “Then the home you did have.”  He did not dream that there were lads in the world who never had known homes, or that he had only succeeded in probing deeper.

“Never had none.”

“Oh!” His interest was aroused, and he now threw solicitude to the winds.  “Any sisters?”

“Nope.”

“Mother?”

“I was so young when she died that I don’t remember her.”

“Father?”

“I never saw much of him.  He went to sea—­anyhow, he disappeared.”

“Oh!” Joe did not know what to say, and an oppressive silence, broken only by the churn of the Dazzler’s forefoot, fell upon them.