Roy Norton, Drowned Gold — Chapter 9 (1919)
“ I doubt if any one was ever more perplexed than I, as I sat for a time on a dock snubbing-post with folded arms, and stared out toward the Esperanza where she lay at anchor. Another steamer was entering port, her prow disturbing the still waters of the bay, and the voices aboard her sounding mellow and indistinct across the intervening space. About her was an air of fugitive haste, as if she had escaped from terrifying peril and was overjoyed to find refuge. A night bird, frightened by her hoarse whistle, flew through the skies with plaintive alarm. ”
