Once during the watch that night it seemed that a steamer far off to the southeastward was burning a blue light, the signal for a pilot. The man at the wheel scanned the point closely, then took a lighted torch made of cotton and alcohol and circled it slowly three times in the air. No answering blue light rewarded him. Another time there grew upon the stillness the far-off muffled sound of a steamer’s engine. You could hear it distinctly, a faint “Pump, pump, pump, pump, pump.” But no light could be seen. The signal torch was again waved, but without result. The distinct throb grew less and less, and finally died away. Some of the pilots commented as to this but could not explain it. They could not say why a vessel should travel without lights at night. At midnight a little breeze sprang up and the schooner cruised about. In one direction appeared a faint glimmer, which when approached, proved to be the riding light of a freight steamer at anchor. All was still and dark aboard her, save for two or three red and yellow lights, which gleamed like sleepless eyes out of the black hulk. The man at the wheel called a sailor. “Go forward, Johnnie,” he said, “and hail her. See if she wants a pilot.” The man went to the prow and stood until the schooner drew quite near. “Steamer, ahoy!” he bellowed. No answer. “Steamer, ahoy!” he called again. A light moved in the cabin of the other vessel. Finally a voice answered. “Want a pilot?” asked our sailor. “We have one,” said the dim figure, and disappeared. “Is it one of the pilots of your association that they have?” I asked. “Yes; they couldn’t have any other. They probably picked him up from one of our far-out boats. Every incoming steamer must take a pilot, you know. That’s the law. All pilots belong to this one association. It’s merely a question of our being around to supply them.” It turned out from his explanation that the desire of the pilots to get a steamer was merely to obtain their days off. When a pilot brings in a steamer it is not likely that he will be sent out again for three days. Each one puts in about the same number of days a month, and all get the same amount of pay. There is no rivalry for boats, and no loss of money by missing a steamer. If one boat misses her, another is sure to catch her farther in. If she refuses to take a pilot the Government compels her owners to pay a fine of fifty dollars, the price of a pilot to take her in. On the third day now breaking we were destined to lose another pilot. It was one of the two inveterate pinochlers.