seemed to be feeling better.

"I'm Nat Morton."

"Nat Morton! I've heard of you. Why, you're the boy who got the
rowboat out of the way of the vessel I was bringing in the other day,
aren't you?"

"I guess I am."

"Well, I've wanted to meet you to thank you for that. Then, before I
get a chance to do it, you do me another favor. I heard about you from
a friend of mine--a pilot. He said you were always about the docks."

"Yes, I spend a good deal of my time here. I get occasional jobs, and
I like the ships."

"So do I, my lad. The lakes are wonderful bodies of water."

"But hadn't you better go home?" suggested Nat. "You're wet, and,
though it's a warm night, you may take cold. It's going to rain," he
added, as a flash of lightning came.

"Yes, I will go home if you will help me."

"I will, gladly. Where do you live?"

"I board near here, as it's handy for my business. The _Jessie Drew_
is to sail day after to-morrow. I came down here to-night to see a
friend of mine, who is captain of one of these grain barges, the
second one over there. I didn't know that he and his crew, as well as
all those on this barge we're on, had gone ashore. I started to cross
from one barge to the other, and I fell down between them. I called
and called, but it seemed as if help would never come."

"I'm glad I happened to be passing," replied Nat. "Now, if you feel
able, we'll go ashore."

"Yes, I'm all right now. I'll go to my boarding place and get some dry
things. Do you work around here?"

"I help Mr. Miller--he's the man I live with--whenever I can. He's
working to-night, helping unload a vessel that was delayed by the
storm."

"Yes, it's blowing quite hard. I didn't notice it so much down between
those barges, but now I feel quite chilly. So you work on the pier,
eh?"

"Whenever I can get anything to do. But I'd like to get a job on a
steamer."

"You would, eh? What kind?"

"Well, I'd like to be a pilot, but I suppose I'd have to work my way
up. I'd be willing to start at almost anything, if I could get on a
vessel."

"You would, eh?" said the pilot, and then he seemed to be busily
thinking.

The two walked down the gangplank and off the pier, meeting no one,
for the wind, and an occasional dash of rain, made it unpleasant to be
out, and the watchman was probably snugly sitting in some sheltered
place.

"This is my boarding place," said Mr. Weatherby at length, as they
came to a small house on a street leadi