The Boy Pilot of the Lakes: or, Nat Morton's Perils. Webster Frank V.
of the Jessie Drew gravely shook hands with the lad.
"I have heard about you," he said, and Nat began to think he was getting to be a person of some importance. "I saw what you did the day that drifting rowboat got in our way, though, at the time, I didn't know it was you. Mr. Weatherby has told me what you did for him, and I must congratulate you on your quickness and wit in an emergency. That is what we need on a vessel.
"The purser will tell you what to do. You must remember one thing aboard a ship, especially when we're out on the lake; the thing to do is to obey orders at once, and ask the reason for them afterward. I expect you to do that. If you do you'll not get into trouble. I shall have a friendly eye on you, and I trust you will do as well as the pilot thinks you will. Now you may report to the purser, who really is more of a supercargo than he is a purser. He'll find plenty for you to do."
"Yes, sir," replied Nat, wondering just what his duties would be. He knew where to find the man who was to be his immediate superior, for on the way to the captain's cabin Mr. Weatherby had pointed out to Nat where the purser's office was.
"Oh, yes; you're the new boy," said the purser, whose name was George Dunn. "Well, come into my office, and I'll show you part of what you'll have to do during the voyage."
It was fortunate that Nat knew something about ships and the terms used aboard them, or he would have been sadly confused by what Mr. Dunn told him. As it was, much that he heard he did not comprehend. He found that part of his duties were to make out lists of the freight, enter the shipments on bills, put them in various books, check up manifests and way-bills, and help the purser verify the freight as it was taken on or put off.
Luckily Nat had had a fair education before his father died, and he could write a good hand and read excellently. He was not very accurate at figures, but he was bright and quick to learn.
"I guess that will do for to-night," said Mr. Dunn when it came nine o'clock. "I had most of the stuff checked up before you came aboard, or there'd have been more to do. However, we'll manage to keep you busy in the morning."
"I wonder if I'll ever get a chance to learn to be a pilot?" said Nat, for the purser seemed so friendly that he ventured to speak to him of that pet ambition.
"I shouldn't wonder. We're not very busy once we get loaded up, and often when sailing between ports a long distance apart there is little to do for days at a time. If you want to learn navigation, and Mr. Weatherby will teach you, I don't see why you can't do it."
"I hope I can."
"Come on, and I'll show you where you'll bunk," went on Mr. Dunn. "You want to turn out lively at six bells in the morning."
"That's seven o'clock," observed Nat.
"Right you are, my hearty. I see you know a little something about a ship. That's good. Oh, I guess you'll get along all right."
It seemed to Nat that he had not been asleep at all when six strokes on a bell, given in the way that sailors ring the time, with short, double blows, awoke him. He dressed hurriedly, had his breakfast with the others of the crew, and then did what he could to help the purser, who had to check up some boxes that arrived at the last minute, just before the ship sailed.
A little later, amid what seemed a confusion of orders, the Jessie Drew moved away down the river, and Nat was taking his first voyage on Lake Michigan as a hand on a ship – a position he had long desired to fill, but which hitherto had seemed beyond his wildest dreams.
"How do you like it?" asked Mr. Weatherby, a little later, as he passed the boy on his way to the pilot-house.
"Fine."
"I'm glad of it. Attend strictly to business, and you'll get along. I'll keep you in mind, and whenever I get a chance I'll take you into the pilot-house, and begin to instruct you in the method of steering a ship."
"I'll be ever so much obliged to you if you will."
"Why, that's nothing, after what you did for me," replied Mr. Weatherby, with a kind smile at Nat.
As sailing on large vessels was not much of a novelty to Nat, except of late years, since his father's death, he did not linger long on deck, watching the various sights as the freighter plowed her way out on Lake Michigan. He went to the purser's office, to see if there was anything that needed to be done. He had temporarily forgotten about the mate's threat to have him discharged.
As Nat drew near the place, he heard voices in dispute, and, when he entered, he was surprised to see the first mate, Mr. Bumstead, standing at the purser's desk, shaking his fist in the air.
"I tell you those boxes are not aboard!" exclaimed the mate.
"And I say they are," replied the purser firmly. "They are down on my list as being taken on this morning, and – er – what's his name – that new boy – Nat – Nat Morton checked them off. You can see for yourself."
"Oh, he checked 'em off, did he?" asked the mate, in altered tones. "Now I begin to see where the trouble is. We'll ask him – ?"
"Here he is now," interrupted Mr. Dunn, as Nat entered. "Did you check up these boxes?" he asked, and he handed a part of the cargo list to Nat.
"Yes, sir. They were the last things that came aboard this morning."
"I told you so!" exclaimed Mr. Dunn, turning to the mate.
"Wait a minute," went on that officer. "He says he checked 'em off, but I don't believe he did. If he did, where are they? They can't have fallen overboard, and I didn't eat 'em, I'm sure of that."
"I checked those boxes off as you called them to me, Mr. Bumstead," replied Nat. "You stood near the forward cargo hold, and the boxes were stowed away there. I was careful in putting them down on my list."
"Yes! Too careful, I guess!" exclaimed the mate angrily. "You've got down ten more boxes than came aboard. That's a nice mess to make of it! But I knew how it would be if the captain took a greenhorn aboard! Why didn't he get some one who knew how to check a cargo?"
"I know how to check a cargo," replied Nat quietly.
"I say you don't! There are ten boxes missing, and you've got to find them, that's all there is about it!"
"Everything down on my list came aboard," insisted Nat.
"Well, those ten boxes didn't, and I know it. You made a mistake, that's what you did, or else you let the boxes fall overboard, and you're afraid to admit it."
"No boxes fell overboard when I was checking up, Mr. Bumstead."
"Well, where are those ten missing ones then?"
"I don't know."
"Of course you don't. And no one else does. You made a mistake, that's all, and it's going to be a bad one. It puts me to a lot of work. I'll have to check over all my lists to make up for your blunder."
"I made no blunder."
"I say you did, and I'm going to report you to Captain Marshall. I'm not going to work with a greenhorn, who don't know enough to check up a simple list. I'll report you, that's what I'll do, and we'll see how long you'll have a berth on this ship!"
Angrily muttering to himself, the mate started for the captain's cabin, while poor Nat, much distressed over the trouble into which he had gotten, stood dejectedly in the purser's office.
CHAPTER VI
AN UNEXPECTED DISCOVERY
"Don't let him worry you," said Mr. Dunn consolingly. "He's a surly fellow, and he's always interfering in my department."
"But the captain may discharge me," replied Nat. "Still, I am sure those boxes came aboard. I counted them carefully and I don't believe I would be ten out of the way."
"Of course not. Probably the mate stowed them in some other place and he's forgotten all about it. They'll turn up."
"I hope so, for I would not like to make a mistake the first day out."
At that moment a deckhand came up to where Nat stood talking to the purser.
"Captain wants to see you," he said to the boy.
"Don't