Then Joe would hurry and John Wilson would hurry and they would sail down to meet that vessel. And John Wilson, if he was the first pilot to get to the vessel, which he generally was, would climb aboard, leaving Joe to sail the sloop alone; and he would take command of the vessel and pilot her safely in, through the channel, to her wharf.
But, if it was foggy or hazy, so that John Wilson could not see the sails of vessels far off, over the water, even with his long glass, he and Joe would sail back and forth before the entrance to Boston Harbor. Sometimes there would be three or four pilot boats sailing back and forth, waiting for the ships to come in; and, when they sighted a ship, it would be a race to see which boat would get to her first.
One afternoon, in the late summer, John Wilson sat at his upper window, smoking and looking out at the gulls. His long glass lay on another chair beside him, all ready to look through; and, once in a while, he took it up and looked, very carefully, all along the edge of the ocean. But, no matter how hard he looked, he couldn't see any ships. There was a fisherman going out, but fishermen didn't take pilots, and, if they had, it was too late, anyway. And he saw another small vessel coming in, pretty soon after the fisherman had gone. It was the Portland packet. She didn't take a pilot, either, but her captain was a pilot.
John Wilson was getting tired of sitting by that window, although it was a very pleasant place on a summer afternoon. He got up and stretched sleepily, for it was sleepy work sitting there, doing nothing. Then he thought that he might as well take a last look through the glass, before he went, and he lifted it and held it against the frame of the window and looked.
"Hello!" he said to himself. "The skysails and royals of something. It's a brig. By the cut of her sails, she'll be the Industry. Haven't heard of her since she was spoken, going out, five months ago. She must have made a quick passage."
Then he put down the glass and hurried down to the sloop.
"Hurry up, Joe," he said. "The old Industry's coming in. And she's in a hurry, too. That Cap'n Sol's carrying royals and skysails. That's all that showed. Like enough he's got stu'n'sails on her, too. He seems to want to get in to-night; and we've got to hurry, for she'll keep right on to his wharf, pilot or no pilot."
"He hasn't been reported at Manila," said Joe.
"No," said John Wilson, "he hasn't. But he'll report his own arrival there. There's few can carry sail with Cap'n Sol."