about the pocketbook?"

"I started to speak to him about it, intending to inquire if he
couldn't possibly be mistaken, but he refused to talk about it and
turned away, saying the wallet was his, and had been for a long time."

"A good deal depends on what he calls a long time," murmured Mr.
Weatherby as he went to his cabin.

"I wonder what Mr. Clayton can tell me?" thought Nat. "I don't believe
there was anything suspicious about father's death, or it would have
been brought out at the time. The captain of the barge said he had
fallen overboard while at work during a storm, and that they had a
hard time recovering his body. Poor father! If he was only alive now
he and I could be on some vessel and both earning a good living."

Nat was a little sad at the thoughts of his dead parent, but he did
not dwell long on this gloomy side. He had his work to do, and work is
one of the best things in the world to make us forget our griefs.

The _Jessie Drew_ tied up at the wharf in Detroit early the next
morning. Mr. Weatherby had his baggage all packed, and Nat at his
suggestion had done the same. Nat had been paid off by Captain
Marshall the night before, but the pilot received his money in the
form of a check every month.

"I hope you do well in your new place," said Captain Marshall as he
bade Nat good-by.

"Thank you. I hope to be able to prove some day that those cigarettes
were not mine," replied Nat.

"If you do I will always be ready to beg your pardon," was the
commander's reply, somewhat stiffly made.

"Well, Nat, are you all ready?" called the pilot as he stood at the
head of the companionway.

"All ready," replied the boy, coming up on deck. Near the gangplank,
over which he had to pass to leave the vessel, stood Sam Shaw. Though
Sam had said little to his uncle about it, he was quite envious over
Nat's rise in life. To be a helper to a pilot on a passenger steamer
was much better than to be an assistant to the purser of a freighter.
Sam had hinted to his uncle the advisability of Mr. Bumstead seeking a
berth on a passenger boat, but the latter had replied he did not care
for that sort of a place. The truth was the mate was not competent to
take such a position, as he was not a first-class officer.

"Good-by, Nat," called Mr. Dunn to the lad who had been such a help to
him. "I'll miss you."

"Oh, I guess I can do as well as he did," spoke Sam quickly. "I'll not
make any mistake checking up the cargo li