"I just saw Billy Darnley," gasped the little newsboy, when able to speak.
"Where did you see him?" questioned Nelson quickly.
"Right straight across town, on the East River. He was talking to the captain of a big schooner named the Victory. I guess he was wanting to ship in her."
"Tend the stand, Paul, and I'll go after him," said Nelson, and leaped outside. Soon he was making his way toward the East River with all possible speed.
When he came in sight of the docks half a dozen vessels met his view, all with their bows stuck far over into the street. Of a sailor standing near he asked which was the Victory.
"There she is," answered the tar, pointing with his sunburnt hand. "Want to ship?"
"Not much!" laughed Nelson. "I want to keep another fellow from shipping."
"Then you'll have to hurry, for the Victory is going to sail putty quick."
Nelson was soon picking his way across the dock where the big schooner lay. Merchandise was on every hand, and on turning a pile of this he suddenly found himself face to face with Billy Darnley and a burly man dressed in a sea suit.