"That's all right, I can take you to it by an outside companionway, and we'll meet no one. Come, and maybe I can help you. You seem to be in trouble."
"I am—in bad troubles," was the choking reply, as the youth followed Nat below.
CHAPTER XXII
AFTER BUMSTEAD
"Now then," said Nat cheerfully, when he and the youth he had saved from suicide were safely in the young pilot's cabin, "what is the matter? I don't want to pry into your affairs, but I would like to help you. If I can't, perhaps I can get some one who can. I know Mr. Weatherby or Captain Turton would be glad to aid you."
"You are of much kindness to me," replied the other, while he tried to regain control of his feelings. "My name is Hugo Kesterberg. I used to live in New York, where I did work in a German importing house. I have been in dis country not long, so I speak not der language so goot."
"I can understand you very well," said Nat.
"I haf a good place, und I am learning der business," went on young Kesterberg, "ven an uncle of mine, in der Vaterland, he die, und leave me vat you call legs—legs easy."
"Legacy," put in Nat.
"Yes, dot is him, legacy. Your American vords are so hard to speak right. Vell, he leaves me some money, but I am a such foolish fellow. Instead of putting my legs easy—I mean legacy—in der bank, I start in to have a goot time—I am vat you call a sport. I treat all my friends, und I get in vid a sporty crowd. I buy goot clothes, und I have lots of fun.