Captain Turton readily agreed to do what he could for Hugo Kesterberg, when, that evening, after all the freight and pa.s.sengers had been discharged, Nat told as much of the case as it was necessary for the commander to know.

"I think I know a firm in Detroit that would be glad of his services,"

he said. "I'll give him a letter of recommendation to them, when we reach there, which will be at the end of the week."

"But--er--he hasn't any money left to pay his fare there," said Nat.

"That will be all right," replied Captain Turton. "I guess it won't break the company to give him a pa.s.s and his meals for a few days.

Besides, I'm not going to let you get ahead of me in doing him a good turn."

Three days later, when the _Mermaid_ reached Detroit, Hugo Kesterberg bade Nat, and his other friends aboard the ship, good-by. With a note of recommendation to a big firm, he could face the future in better spirits. Some time later Nat had a letter from the German youth, stating that he had a better position than the one in New York, and was doing well. The missive was full of thanks to Nat and Captain Turton.

Detroit was as far as the _Mermaid_ was to go on the present voyage, and after taking on a big cargo, and quite a number of pa.s.sengers, she turned about and began to traverse her way over Lake Huron again.

Captain Turton went ash.o.r.e at the first port they made, after leaving Detroit, and when he came aboard again, he sought out Nat. The captain's manner betrayed some excitement.

"I have some news for you," he said to the young pilot.

"Am I going to be arrested again?"

"Not exactly. This concerns your enemy, b.u.mstead."

"Have they got him? Did he give up the money?"

"No, but I heard from a captain friend of mine ash.o.r.e a little while ago, that the _Spray_ is docked at Cove Point, about fifty miles above here. She had to lay up for repairs. She's an old boat and her engines are continually getting out of order."

"Are we going to stop there?" asked Nat eagerly.

"No, but I know what you are thinking of. There is a chance to cause the arrest of the mate, and here is my plan. You can take a train from here to Cove Point. The railroad runs quite near there. You have the warrant, made out by the police. Take that with you, and the authorities in Cove Point will make the arrest, I'm sure."

"But how can I get back to this boat?"

"I'll tell you. There is a train that leaves here at midnight, which will get you to Cove Point about two o'clock in the morning. The police are up at all hours. You can get them to serve the warrant at once, for b.u.mstead will probably be aboard the _Spray_ at her dock.

Then, after he is safe in jail, you can hire a boat to take you out, and I'll pick you up as I pa.s.s. I'll be on the watch for you to-morrow morning."

The plan was very feasible, and Nat thanked the captain for his thoughtfulness. He made his arrangements hurriedly, and began to have visions of recovering the money that was rightfully his.

"Be out about two miles beyond the point at about nine o'clock to-morrow morning," the captain called to him, as Nat left. "That's the time I'll pa.s.s, and as close in as I can run."

"I'll be there waiting for you," promised Nat.

"Good luck!" called the pilot. "I hope you get him. That b.u.mstead is getting to be as slippery as an eel."

"I'll get him, if he's there," declared the lad.

Then he hurried to the railroad station to get his ticket, for it was after ten o'clock, and the depot was some distance from the water front.

CHAPTER XXIII

b.u.mSTEAD ESCAPES

When Nat found himself in the train, speeding toward Cove Point, he had a chance to think how he should proceed after he arrived. He antic.i.p.ated no difficulty in getting a policeman to go to the boat and arrest the mate.

"Maybe Sam Shaw will want to take a hand, and fight me," thought Nat.

"Well, if he does, I'll give him all that's coming to him."

The train was a slow one, and made a number of stops. When about half way on the journey there was a delay, caused by the wreck of a freight train, and it was nearly three o'clock when Nat arrived at the railroad station in Cove Point. This was a small town, depending for its existence on what traffic pa.s.sed up and down the lake, and what little patronage came to it over the railroad.

"Where's the police station?" asked Nat of a sleepy man at the depot.

"They don't allow tramps to sleep in it any more," was the rather queer answer.

"Tramps? Who asked anything about tramps?" replied Nat. "I don't want to sleep there."

"Oh, excuse me," said the agent, opening his sleepy eyes a bit wider.

"I didn't take a good look at you. I thought you were a tramp. Lots of 'em come in on our trains, and want to spend the night at the police station. They'd let themselves be arrested because the sheriff used to get so much a prisoner. But the county authorities put a stop to it.

What's the matter? Some one rob you?"

"No," replied Nat, determined to keep his affairs to himself.

"Some crime been committed?" persisted the agent, for he thought it was rather unusual for a boy to be asking his way to the police station at three o'clock in the morning.

"I want to see a policeman," replied Nat, "and I thought the best place would be the station house."

"There used to be a policeman stationed here nights," went on the agent. "But he's gone now. If it was anything about the railroad I could attend to it for you."

"No, thank you. If you'll tell me where the station house is, I'll be much obliged."

The agent seemed disappointed, but he gave Nat the directions.

"I don't see what harm it would have done him to have told me,"

murmured the man, when Nat had gone off down the dark street. "It would help to keep me awake, if I had something like a crime or an arrest to think about. Well, I might as well doze off; it'll be two hours before the down freight is in," and he composed himself as comfortably as he could in his chair in the telegraph office.

Meanwhile, our hero managed to find the police station. Inside there was a sergeant on duty, who looked up inquiringly as Nat entered.

"Well?" he asked.

"I have a warrant for a man's arrest."

"Are you a detective from some other city? Where's your badge?" asked the sergeant suspiciously.

"No, I'm not a detective. I'm the person who made the complaint on which this warrant was issued," and Nat showed the one which had been returned by Mr. Scanlon.

The sergeant seemed impressed by the boy's business-like manner.