d you'll get more money. I made Captain Marshall agree to
that, though he didn't want to. But you'll have to be very careful.
Don't you dare smoke any cigarettes."

"How do you know I do smoke 'em?"

"Oh, I've got a good nose for tobacco," replied his uncle. "I'm
warning you; that's all. I don't like this Nat Morton any more than
you do, and I'm glad he is going."

The mate did not say why, but it was because he had hidden away a
certain wallet, with a name erased from it, and this wallet he did not
want Nat to see.

Owing to the fight between Nat and Sam, it was not until noon that Mr.
Weatherby and our hero were able to leave the _Jessie Drew_. By that
time Nat's clothes were dry, and then, without Sam looking on, for he
was below in his bunk, the pilot and the lad whom he had befriended
went ashore.

"We'll go to the Imperial Hotel," spoke Mr. Weatherby. "That's where I
usually put up, when I'm here, and we'll wait there until the
_Mermaid_ docks."

"Is that the name of the ship we are going on?" asked Nat.

"That's her. She's a fine steamer, and Captain Turton is a fine man. I
shall like to work for him, and I believe you will too."

"Maybe he doesn't want me," suggested Nat, for he had been thinking of
that contingency.

"Oh, I've arranged all that. But I wonder if George Clayton will be
here?"

"Where did you expect to meet him?"

"At the hotel. There's the place, just ahead," and the pilot pointed
down the street. "Yes, and there's George, like a lookout in the bow
on a foggy night. There, he's signaling us!"

Nat saw a stout, jolly looking man, standing on the hotel steps,
waving his hand to Mr. Weatherby.

"Ahoy there!" called Mr. Clayton, when they were within hailing
distance, "how goes it?"

"Very fair. How about you?"

"Oh, I've had pretty good weather, and I managed to keep off the rocks
and shoals. But is this Nat Morton, whom you were telling me about?"

"That's Nat," replied the pilot.

"Hum. Looks like his father," commented Mr. Clayton. "Shake hands,
young man," and he extended a big one, roughened by many years of toil
aboard lake steamers.

"Did you know my father?" asked Nat, with deep interest.

"Indeed, I did. He and I were messmates on many a trip. I was on the
same barge when a big wave washed him overboard. My! but that was a
rough night!"

"I thought maybe, George," said Mr. Weatherby, "that you could tell
Nat something about his father's affairs. There seems to be