The agent seemed disappointed, but he gave Nat the directions.
"I don't see what harm it would have done him to have told me," murmured the man, when Nat had gone off down the dark street. "It would help to keep me awake, if I had something like a crime or an arrest to think about. Well, I might as well doze off; it'll be two hours before the down freight is in," and he composed himself as comfortably as he could in his chair in the telegraph office.
Meanwhile, our hero managed to find the police station. Inside there was a sergeant on duty, who looked up inquiringly as Nat entered.
"Well?" he asked.
"I have a warrant for a man's arrest."
"Are you a detective from some other city? Where's your badge?" asked the sergeant suspiciously.
"No, I'm not a detective. I'm the person who made the complaint on which this warrant was issued," and Nat showed the one which had been returned by Mr. Scanlon.
The sergeant seemed impressed by the boy's business-like manner.
"Come inside," he invited, opening a gate in a railing that shut off the part of the room behind the desk. "Now tell me about it."
Nat told his tale as briefly as possible.