But even this much of the world was too wide for Nelson.

He wearied for his beloved Oakland water-front, and when he elected to return to it we separated in all friendliness.
I now made the old town of Benicia, on the Carquinez Straits, my headquarters.

In a cluster of fishermen's arks, moored in the tules on the water-front, dwelt a congenial crowd of drinkers and vagabonds, and I joined them.

I had longer spells ashore, between fooling with salmon fishing and making raids up and down bay and rivers as a deputy fish patrolman, and I drank more and learned more about drinking.

I held my own with any one, drink for drink; and often drank more than my share to show the strength of my manhood.