“Good morning,” said the captain of the little steamer—the WM. FLETCHER—who stood in the pilot-house. “Good morning,” returned Captain Collins. “Where are you from?” asked the steamer captain, looking curiously at the blank place where the BREWSTER’S name ought to have been. “San Francisco,” responded Captain Collins. “What vessel?” This was a stunner, and Collins, after hesitating a moment, pretended not to have heard, and said: “How do the Highlands bear from here?” “About north-west,” was the response. “What ves——” “What will you charge to tow me in?” interrupted Captain Collins. “Three hundred dollars,” was the prompt reply. “O, nonsense,” rejoined Collins. “That’s too much. That’s all they charge when the harbor is full of ice.” “Our regular price,” said the other. “O, no, captain,” said Collins; “come, be reasonable. I’ll give you a hundred and fifty.” “Couldn’t do it, really.” “Well,” rejoined Collins, “I think we will have a favorable wind soon, and I can get in without being towed.” “Yes,” retorted the other, ironically; “quite likely. If you have no barometer on board, I’ll lend you one. The mercury has gone clean down out of sight, and we’re going to have a deuce of a blow. I’ll venture it will be a nor’-wester, too.” “Pooh! No danger. I’ll sail in.” “All right,” said the steamer captain. “Now that I come to think, I’m sorry I made so good an offer. I begin to believe you have an underwriter’s job of it. You haven’t been to San Francisco.” “I’ll give you two hundred dollars,” said Collins, without paying any attention to the other’s last remark. “No, not a cent lower than three hundred. I wouldn’t do it for that, if I had not already offered to. I’ll swear, I believe that is the BREWSTER! We heard of it.” “The what?” said Collins. “The BREWSTER. Come, isn’t it now? Captain Adams, of the _Moro Castle_, reported her returning in distress.” “What do I know of the _Blueskin_? I never heard of such a ship.—Come, I’ll give you two hundred and fifty.” “No, three hundred; not a cent less. I’ll put you alongside the pier for that.” “O, you’re a hard one! Well, you can tow us in, and I’ll lick you the first time I catch you in New York. Mind, now, you are to take the ship to the pier whenever I want you to. I will anchor in the harbor to-day.” “All right; I’ll stick to that.” “Well, Mr. Gorham, give him our hawser.” “Ay, ay, sir.” The hawser is a very thick, heavy line, used for towing or making a ship fast; and one end of this rope the sailors gladly threw over to the steamer, while the other was made fast to the capstan on the forecastle deck. We arrived in the harbor about four o’clock that afternoon, and had just cast anchor when we were visited with a rough north-west gale. But we did not care now, we were safe.