Joe nodded.  He could see it all now.  They had run into San Andreas, where his father worked the big quarries, and most probably the safe contained the wages of the thousand men or more whom he employed.  “Don’t say anything,” he cautioned.

’Frisco Kid agreed knowingly.  “French Pete can’t read, anyway,” he muttered, “and the chances are that Red Nelson won’t know what your name is.  But, just the same, it ’s pretty rough.  They ’ll break it open and divide up as soon as they can, so I don’t see what you ’re going to do about it.”

“Wait and see.”  Joe had made up his mind that he would do his best to stand by his father’s property.  At the worst, it could only be lost; and that would surely be the case were he not along, while, being along, he at least had a fighting chance to save it, or to be in position to recover it.  Responsibilities were showering upon him thick and fast.  But a few days back he had had but himself to consider; then, in some subtle way, he had felt a certain accountability for ’Frisco Kid’s future welfare; and after that, and still more subtly, he had become aware of duties which he owed to his position, to his sister, to his chums and friends; and now, by a most unexpected chain of circumstances, came the pressing need of service for his father’s sake.  It was a call upon his deepest strength, and he responded bravely.  While the future might be doubtful, he had no doubt of himself; and this very state of mind, this self-confidence, by a generous alchemy, gave him added resolution.  Nor did he fail to be vaguely aware of it, and to grasp dimly at the truth that confidence breeds confidence—­strength, strength.

CHAPTER XIX

THE BOYS PLAN AN ESCAPE

“Now she takes it!” French Pete cried.

Both lads ran into the cockpit.  They were on the edge of the breaking bar.  A huge forty-footer reared a foam-crested head far above them, stealing their wind for the moment and threatening to crush the tiny craft like an egg-shell.  Joe held his breath.  It was the supreme moment.  French Pete luffed straight into it, and the Dazzler mounted the steep slope with a rush, poised a moment on the giddy summit, and fell into the yawning valley beyond.  Keeping off in the intervals to fill the mainsail, and luffing into the combers, they worked their way across the dangerous stretch.  Once they caught the tail-end of a whitecap and were well-nigh smothered in the froth, but otherwise the sloop bobbed and ducked with the happy facility of a cork.

To Joe it seemed as though he had been lifted out of himself—­out of the world.  Ah, this was life! this was action!  Surely it could not be the old, commonplace world he had lived in so long!  The sailors, grouped on the streaming deck-load of the steamer, waved their sou’westers, and, on the bridge, even the captain was expressing his admiration for the plucky craft.