busy one, and Nat was glad when noon came and he
could stop for dinner. He ate a hearty meal, and was taking a rest on
deck, for the 'longshoremen and freight handlers would not resume
their labors until one o'clock, when he saw coming up the gangplank a
boy about his own age. The lad had red hair and rather an unpleasant
face, with a bold, hard look about the eyes.

"Hey, kid!" the youth exclaimed on catching sight of Nat, "tell me
where Mr. Bumstead hangs out. I want to see him quick. Understand?"

"I understand you well enough," replied Nat, who resented the
unpleasant way in which the question was put. "You speak loud enough.
I know what you mean. Mr. Bumstead is at dinner, and I don't believe
he'd like to be disturbed."

"Oh, that's all right. He'll see me. He expects me. Now you show me
where he is, or I'll report you."

"You will, eh?" asked Nat. "Well, I'm not in the habit of showing
strangers about the ship. It's against orders. You can't go below
until you get permission from the captain, mate or second mate."

"I can't, eh? Guess you don't know who I am," replied the red-haired
youth with an ugly leer.

"No, and I don't care," retorted Nat, for his life about the docks had
made him rather fearless.

"Well, I'll make you care--you'll see! Now, are you going to show me
where I can find Mr. Bumstead? If you don't I'll make trouble for
you."

"Look here!" exclaimed Nat, striding over to the stranger. "Don't talk
to me like that. I'm not afraid of you, whoever you are. I'll not show
you to Mr. Bumstead's cabin, as it is against the rules. You can't go
below, either, unless the second mate, who's in charge of the deck
now, says you can. He's over there, and you can ask him if you want
to. Now, don't you say anything more to me or I'll punch your face!"

Nat was no milksop. He had often fought with the lads on the dock on
less provocation than this, and, for the time being, he forgot he was
on a ship.

"What's the row?" asked the second mate, who, hearing the sound of
high voices, approached to see what the trouble was.

"Oh, here's a fresh fellow who wants to see Mr. Bumstead," replied
Nat.

"He can't until after grub hour," said the second mate shortly.
"What's your business, young man? Tell it, or go ashore."

"I want to see Mr. Bumstead," replied the red-haired lad more humbly
than he had yet spoken, for the second mate was a stalwart man.

"What for?"

"Well, he expects me."

"Who are you