ut this. The _Mermaid_ was a new steamer, and
was handsomely furnished. And it was much nicer to be among
passengers, than delving away in a dark, dirty hold, checking up long
cargo lists. Nat began to feel that his life had changed very much for
the better. He had a new suit of clothes, and made a good appearance.

For about a week the _Mermaid_ cruised on Lake Huron and Lake
Michigan, taking on passengers, and some freight at one port, and
leaving them at another. Nat was rapidly progressing in his chosen
calling, and several times he had steered the vessel all alone, with
no one in the pilot-house but himself, for Mr. Weatherby wanted the
lad to acquire confidence.

Captain Turton was an agreeable man, and readily consented that Nat
should have all the privileges possible, in order to learn more
rapidly.

"I was young once myself," he said with a smile. "I had to pick up my
knowledge of ships as best I could, and if I had had half a chance I
would be a better navigator than I am now. In fact, I could have
learned piloting among these many islands in Lake Huron, and that
would have saved me hiring you, Weatherby."

"Well, if Nat keeps on, he'll soon be able to take my place," said the
pilot with a smile. "He did nearly all the work to-day. I'm getting
lazy, I guess. For the last few days I haven't felt like myself."

"Maybe you're getting malaria," suggested the captain.

"I'm getting something. Guess I'll take a big dose of quinine
to-night."

"Better not to-night," spoke the captain.

"Why not?"

"Well, I don't like the looks of the weather. There seems to be a
storm coming up, and you'll want all your wits about you if it comes
on to blow much."

"Oh, I guess I can steer, even if my ears do ring with the quinine,
and my head buzzes," answered Mr. Weatherby. "I must break up this
languid feeling."

The _Mermaid_ stopped at a good-sized city that evening, preparatory
to making an all-night trip. As the boat touched the dock Nat saw on
the end of the pier a telegraph messenger.

"Anybody named Nat Morton aboard?" the boy called, as soon as the ship
was made fast.

"That's me," replied Nat.

"Well, I've got a telegram for you. I've been waiting three hours, and
you've got to pay for my time."

"That'll be all right," said Mr. Weatherby, who was standing at the
rail, beside Nat. "It's probably from Mr. Scanlon," he went on. "I was
wondering why we didn't hear from him."

He paid the messenger boy,