It was life raw and naked, wild and free--the only life of that sort which my birth in time and space permitted me to attain.

And more than that.

It carried a promise.

It was the beginning.

From the sandspit the way led out through the Golden Gate to the vastness of adventure of all the world, where battles would be fought, not for old shirts and over stolen salmon boats, but for high purposes and romantic ends.
And because I told Scotty what I thought of his letting an old man like French Frank get away with him, we, too, brawled and added to the festivity of the sandspit.