A wet, gray mist hid the San Francisco harbor. The tops of masts showed like so many trees in a burnt forest above the low hanging fog. The squeal of winches and cables mixed with the rough voices of men loading and unloading cargo. As Crow and Earl made their way along the pier, they heard voices and laughter up ahead. "Sounds like Mary," thought Crow; and then dismissed it as a trick of the fog. Soon he saw a group of people standing near the end of the pier, and sure enough, there was Mary in the midst of it. Someone said, “Here they come.”
"What"re they up to?" wondered Crow. Earlier, Earl had told Crow that he would need him at the ship in the morning, and would pick him up. Mary and the children were at the ranch, and Crow had stayed at Dunbar House. He and Earl had eaten an early b
