"No, but we'll see that you do get it," replied Mr. Weatherby's friend. "We'll have the law on that rascally mate. No wonder he wanted his nephew to have your place."
"Shall we go down where the _Jessie Drew_ is tied up, and see if the mate is aboard before we get an officer, or stop at the police station first?" asked Mr. Weatherby, as he, Nat and Mr. Clayton left the hotel.
"Let's get a policeman, or a detective, first," was Mr. Clayton's answer. "We can't take any chances with a man like Bumstead. To think of him having that money more than two years, since poor Jim was drowned, and Nat suffering for what was really his own!"
"Oh, I didn't suffer so much," was our hero's answer. "I managed to get along, and Mr. and Mrs. Miller were very good to me. Then I had a good friend in Mr. Weatherby."
"No better than I had in you," replied the pilot, who had told his friend of the plucky rescue.
A stop at the police station, and a recital of part of the story to the sergeant in charge, readily procured the services of a detective. In order to excite no suspicions, it was arranged that the officer and Mr. Clayton should go on ahead to the dock where the freight steamer was tied up. They could go aboard, and if Mr. Bumstead saw them he would not become alarmed and escape, whereas, if he saw the pilot and Nat returning he might take the alarm.
Accordingly, when they were part way to the dock, Nat and Mr. Weatherby walked down a side street, while the others went on.
"I wonder if he'll put up a fight?" mused Nat, as they paced slowly up and down, waiting.
"Very likely. He is a desperate man, and I haven't the slightest doubt but what he pushed that bale on you in the hold."
It seemed quite a long time that Mr. Clayton and the detective were gone, and Nat grew impatient.
"I hope so," answered the pilot. "I hope they got him, and that he had your money with him."
They resumed their pacing up and down. About ten minutes later they saw Mr. Clayton and the officer coming toward them, unaccompanied.
"I hope he did. I shouldn't like to go to court over it."
"Well?" asked the pilot, as the two came nearer.
"We were just too late," answered Mr. Clayton dejectedly.
"Yes, the vessel has sailed for Buffalo. We have been trying to find another ship bound for the same port, that might get in ahead of the freighter, but we couldn't. I guess Bumstead has escaped us for a time, but you can follow him. His ship will tie up in Buffalo for a week."