It was impossible to make a noise except by a mis-stroke, and Joe had learned to row on Lake Merrit well enough to avoid that.

They followed in the wake of the first boat, and, glancing aside, he saw they were running along the length of a pier which jutted out from the land.

A couple of ships, with riding-lanterns burning brightly, were moored to it, but they kept just beyond the edge of the light.

He stopped rowing at the whispered command of 'Frisco Kid.

Then the boats grounded like ghosts on a tiny beach, and they clambered out.
Joe followed the men, who picked their way carefully up a twenty-foot bank.