f thinking
of the lights as if they were real folks. It's something like a
captain's idea about his ship. She's always alive. And lights are just
as responsive. Some way, I've a bit of that same feeling myself."

"Yes," the Eel said thoughtfully, "I can see that, in a way. They do
seem a bit human, don't they? And it must be deadly lonely for the
keepers, out of reach of everybody, with nothing to do."

"What?" shouted Eric, so loudly that the Eel jumped. "With nothing to
do?"

"Except just attend to the light," his chum said apologetically. "What
else is there?"

"I suppose you think they just light the lantern when they have a mind
to and then snore all night long?"

"N-no, of course they can't," the Eel replied, humbly, "I hadn't thought
of that. I suppose they have to keep watch."

"You bet they do," Eric said emphatically, "and a mighty close watch at
that. And when it comes to discipline--the Lighthouse Service has every
civilian organization in America beaten to a frazzle."

"I didn't know it was so strict."

"Strict! Carelessness means dishonorable dismissal, right off the bat!
Not that there's ever much chance of such a thing ever being needed. The
Commissioner has built up such a sense of pride in the service that a
chap would do anything rather than neglect his duty. I'll tell you a
story of a woman light-keeper, a woman, mind you, Eel, that'll show you.
You know Angel Island?"

"Right here in San Francisco Bay?"

"That's the one. You know that there's a light and a fog signal there?"

"I hadn't ever thought of it," the other replied. "Yes, I guess there
is."

"There's a new fog-horn on that point now, Eel, but when I was quite a
small shaver, in 1906, the fog signal was a bell, rung with a clapper.
In July of that year the clapper broke and couldn't be used. A heavy fog
came down and blanketed the island so that you couldn't see anything a
foot away. That woman light-keeper stood there with a watch in one hand
and a nail-hammer in the other and struck that bell once every twenty
seconds for twenty hours and thirty-five minutes until the fog lifted.
She didn't stop for meals or sleep. Two days later, the bell not having
yet been fixed, another fog came down at night and she did the same
thing the whole night long. That's what I call being on the job!"

"Yes," the Eel agreed with admiration, "you can't beat that, anywhere."

"And you spoke of light-keepers being idle!" continued Eric, warming