Bill climbed until he reached five thousand feet. The tug and target were about twelve thousand yards from shore, and they looked absurdly small. He wondered how the twelve-inch guns could ever make a hit on the small pyramidal target built up on the float. The entire area over which the target would be moved had been cleared of ships. Off to the north there were two steamers running into the Golden Gate, and a third leaving by way of the ship channel. As far as Bill could see, there was no other sign of life between the shore and the Farallone Islands, some fifteen miles out.