I'll foot your expenses, whatever they are, so long as they are
within reason. The situation is growing desperate, and something
must be done to determine whether I or that band of ruffians own
those oyster beds."

"Now we'll see Neil," Charley said, when he had seen Mr. Taft upon
his train to San Francisco.

Not only did Neil Partington interpose no obstacle to our
adventure, but he proved to be of the greatest assistance. Charley
and I knew nothing of the oyster industry, while his head was an
encyclopaedia of facts concerning it. Also, within an hour or so,
he was able to bring to us a Greek boy of seventeen or eighteen who
knew thoroughly well the ins and outs of oyster piracy.

At this point I may as well explain that we of the fish patrol were
free lances in a way. While Neil Partington, who was a patrolman
proper, received a regular salary, Charley and I, being merely
deputies, received only what we earned--that is to say, a certain
percentage of the fines imposed on convicted violators of the fish
laws. Also, any rewards that chanced our way were ours. We
offered to share with Partington whatever we should get from Mr.
Taft, but the patrolman would not hear of it. He was only too
happy, he said, to do a good turn for us, who had done so many for
him.

We held a long council of war, and mapped out the following line of
action. Our faces were unfamiliar on the Lower Bay, but as the
Reindeer was well known as a fish-patrol sloop, the Greek boy,
whose name was Nicholas, and I were to sail some innocent-looking