"Not much!" panted Nat. "You can't commit suicide from this boat."
The German continued to struggle. Nat felt the legs slipping away from him.
"If you don't give up I'll call for help, and the captain will put you under arrest!" threatened the young pilot. That seemed to quiet the German. He ceased to struggle, and became calmer.
"Vell," he said, in a voice that was choked with tears, "I gif up. I vill not jump overboard – now."
"Nor at any other time," insisted Nat.
"I cannot promise dot, but I promise you dot I vill not jump from dis boat. I care not to live longer."
Nat released his hold. The German was panting from his exertions, as he donned his garments. The affair had taken place in a secluded spot, and no one had seen Nat's intervention in the tragic episode.
"What's the matter?" inquired the young pilot, when the German was fully dressed again. "Are you sick? Why did you want to end your life?"
To his surprise the young fellow burst into tears, and sobbed pitifully.
"Come to my cabin," proposed Nat gently. "Perhaps I can help you."
"I – I like not to go vere der peoples see me."
"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.
"Pretty soon, not long after I gets my legacy, der head of der firm vere I work, he say dey no longer needs me, for you see I am foolish, und I no longer look after my vork. But dot I lose my job make me not for to care. I still haf plenty of monies left, und I haf more good times."
"Then what is the trouble, if you have plenty of money?" asked Nat. "The trouble with most people is that they haven't got enough."
"Dot's me – exactly!" exclaimed Hugo. "I got to gambling und playing der races, und yesterday I found I haf not enough left, after I had been traveling about for some time, to pay my board for vun veek, in a decent place. I buys me a ticket on dis boat, for as far a distance as I haf money, und I decide I vill end it all. Und so I vould, only you stop me."
He added the last bitterly.
"Yes, I'm glad I stopped you, and you'll be glad too, before long," declared Nat firmly. "Why, you're no worse off than you were before. You had a lot of money, and you had a good time with it. Now you'll have to go back to work again."
"Ach! Dot's vat you Americans call der rubber," said the German.
"The rubber?" repeated Nat, a bit puzzled.
"I mean der rub – dot's vere der shoes nabs me – I mean pinch. I can't go back to my old place, und I don't know how to get vork in any odder place. Dere is no use for me to live. I makes an end to myself, ven ve gets to der port."
"No, you won't!" declared Nat. "If you don't promise not to try to commit suicide, for at least a week, I'll inform the police about you, as soon as we land, and they'll lock you up. It's against the law to take your own life or attempt it. If you wait a week you'll be all over the notion."
"A man's life iss his own – he can do vat he likes mit it."
"The law doesn't say so," replied Nat, who had gained his information from the newspapers.
"Vell, der law is wrong! I takes my own life!"
"Then you'll be arrested as soon as the boat lands."
"Arrest a Kesterberg!" exclaimed the German. "Dot vould be a disgrace."
"So would committing suicide."
The youth started. Evidently he had not thought of it in that light before.
"Vell, I promise you – for vun week."
"That's all right," said Nat briskly. "I'm satisfied. I know if you wait that long you'll be in a better frame of mind. Besides, I think I can help you. I'll speak to the captain and to Mr. Weatherby about you."
"But not about – not about – what I – "
"Oh, no, I'll say nothing about that," promised Nat. "But I know they can help you. Captain Turton is acquainted with lots of firms, and maybe he can get you a place with one of them."
"Den my troubles would be ofer," declared Hugo. "If I gets me a place to vork, nefer again vill I be so foolish again. If my people in Germany heard of vot I did, dey vould nefer forgive me."
"They're not likely to hear of it," said Nat. "Now you stay here until you feel better. We're going to land pretty soon, and I'll be busy. This evening I'll speak to the captain about you."
"But my ticket only takes me to dis port, und I haf no more money. I can't stay aboard."
"I'll fix that all right," declared the young pilot, who was beginning to feel quite important over what he had done, which, indeed, was no light matter, for he had given hope to a hopeless youth.
Captain Turton readily agreed to do what he could for Hugo Kesterberg, when, that evening, after all the freight and passengers had been discharged, Nat told as much of the case as it was necessary for the commander to know.
"I think I know a firm in Detroit that would be glad of his services," he said. "I'll give him a letter of recommendation to them, when we reach there, which will be at the end of the week."
"But – er – he hasn't any money left to pay his fare there," said Nat.
"That will be all right," replied Captain Turton. "I guess it won't break the company to give him a pass and his meals for a few days. Besides, I'm not going to let you get ahead of me in doing him a good turn."
Three days later, when the Mermaid reached Detroit, Hugo Kesterberg bade Nat, and his other friends aboard the ship, good-by. With a note of recommendation to a big firm, he could face the future in better spirits. Some time later Nat had a letter from the German youth, stating that he had a better position than the one in New York, and was doing well. The missive was full of thanks to Nat and Captain Turton.