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.
