lungs almost bursting, I could see nothing of the oars. They must
have been swept away by the chaotic currents. I saw Demetrios
Contos looking back from his boat, and heard the vindictive and
mocking tones of his voice as he shouted exultantly. He held
steadily on his course, leaving me to perish.
There was nothing to do but to swim for it, which, in that wild
confusion, was at the best a matter of but a few moments. Holding
my
breath and
working with my hands, I managed to get off my heavy
sea-boots and my
jacket. Yet there was very little
breath I could
catch to hold, and I
swiftly discovered that it was not so much a
matter of swimming as of
breathing.
I was
beaten and buffeted, smashed under by the great San Pablo
whitecaps, and strangled by the hollow tide-rip waves which flung
themselves into my eyes, nose, and mouth. Then the strange sucks
would grip my legs and drag me under, to spout me up in some fierce
boiling, where, even as I tried to catch my
breath, a great
whitecap would crash down upon my head.
It was impossible to
survive any length of time. I was
breathing
more water than air, and drowning all the time. My senses began to
leave me, my head to whirl around. I struggled on, spasmodically,
instinctively, and was
barely half
conscious when I felt myself
caught by the shoulders and hauled over the gunwale of a boat.
For some time I lay across a seat where I had been flung, face
downward, and with the water
running out of my mouth. After a
while, still weak and faint, I turned around to see who was my
rescuer. And there, in the stern, sheet in one hand and tiller in
the other, grinning and nodding good-naturedly, sat Demetrios
Contos. He had intended to leave me to drown, - he said so
afterward, - but his better self had fought the battle, conquered,
and sent him back to me.
"You all-a right?" he asked.
I managed to shape a "yes" on my lips, though I could not yet
speak.
"You sail-a de boat verr-a good-a," he said. "So good-a as a man."
A
compliment from Demetrios Contos was a
compliment indeed, and I
keenly appreciated it, though I could only nod my head in
acknowledgment.
We held no more conversation, for I was busy recovering and he was
busy with the boat. He ran in to the wharf at Vallejo, made the
boat fast, and helped me out. Then it was, as we both stood on the
wharf, that Charley stepped out from behind a net-rack and put his
hand on Demetrios Contos's arm.
"He saved my life, Charley," I protested; "and I don't think he
ought to be
arrested."
A puzzled expression came into Charley's face, which cleared
immediately after, in a way it had when he made up his mind.
"I can't help it, lad," he said kindly. "I can't go back on my
duty, and it's plain duty to
arrest him. To-day is Sunday; there
are two
salmon in his boat which he caught to-day. What else can I
do?"
"But he saved my life," I persisted,
unable to make any other
argument.
Demetrios Contos's face went black with rage when he learned
Charley's judgment. He had a sense of being unfairly treated. The
better part of his nature had triumphed, he had performed a
generous act and saved a
helpless enemy, and in return the enemy
was
taking him to jail.
Charley and I were out of sorts with each other when we went back
to Benicia. I stood for the spirit of the law and not the letter;
but by the letter Charley made his stand. As far as he could see,
there was nothing else for him to do. The law said
distinctly that
no
salmon should be caught on Sunday. He was a
patrolman, and it
was his duty to
enforce that law. That was all there was to it.
He had done his duty, and his
conscience was clear. Nevertheless,
the whole thing seemed
unjust to me, and I felt very sorry for
Demetrios Contos.
Two days later we went down to Vallejo to the trial. I had to go
along as a
witness, and it was the most
hateful task that I ever
performed in my life when I testified on the
witness stand to
seeing Demetrios catch the two
salmon Charley had captured him
with.
Demetrios had engaged a
lawyer, but his case was
hopeless. The
jury was out only fifteen minutes, and returned a
verdict of
guilty. The judge sentenced Demetrios to pay a fine of one hundred
dollars or go to jail for fifty days.