It was beginning to get light, a streak of dawn showing in the east. The policeman pushed open the cabin door, which was not locked.
"Is Joseph Bumstead here?" he asked in loud tones.
"That's me. What's wanted?" was the answer, and Nat recognized the mate's voice.
"Come out here," said the officer.
He backed out of the cabin, and in the growing light Nat saw that he had his revolver drawn. Wondering what could be wanted of him, Bumstead jumped out of his bunk, partly dressed.
"You're my prisoner!" suddenly exclaimed the policeman, throwing back his coat to display the big star. At the same time he grabbed the mate with one hand, and in the other leveled his weapon at him.
"What's the trouble? Is this a joke?" demanded the mate.
"You'll find it quite different from a joke," replied the officer. "I have a warrant for your arrest, sworn out by Nat Morton, charging you with the embezzlement of fifteen hundred dollars. You'll have to come with me."
At that moment the mate caught sight of Nat, who stood to one side.
"So! This is your work, eh?" he cried. "Well, I'll not go with you! You haven't got me yet!"