They walked to the ferry, and there took a boat to Jersey City, and then boarded a train bound for the capital city of New Jersey. Mr. Garwell had obtained seats in a parlor car, and the elegant furnishings impressed Nat deeply.
"These cars are like palaces," he said.
"They are certainly comfortable," was his employer"s response.
On the trip to Trenton Mr. Garwell asked Nat much about himself, and at last the boy told his tale from beginning to end.
"I don"t suppose you care to go back to the farm," said Mr. Garwell, with a quiet smile.
"No, sir, I want to stay in New York. I believe there is more of a future here for me than on the farm."
"Possibly that is true. You had positively nothing to do with that fire at your uncle"s barn?"
"No, sir--I didn"t even have a light around the place."
"But you saw somebody near by."
"Yes, sir. I thought it was my uncle."
"It must have been a tramp."
"Just what I think, Mr. Garwell."
"And you think your uncle is coming to New York to look for you?"
"He"ll come, if the carfare doesn"t scare him off. He is a very close man."
"Hum!" The real estate broker mused for a moment. "Well, if he comes, supposing you let me know? Maybe I can persuade him to allow you to remain in the city."
At this Nat"s face brightened.
"Oh, Mr. Garwell, will you do that? I suppose, as my guardian, he has a legal right to order me back to the farm."
"We"ll have to see about that. But he hasn"t found you yet."
"That is true."
"You ought to let him know that you are well, and have a position. You need not give him your address."
"I"ll write the letter to-morrow."
"Was your father a farmer?"
"Yes, sir, although when he was a young fellow like myself he lived in Brooklyn. His father and his grandfather were both born in New York."
"I see. Then you have city blood in your veins. That may account for your liking New York so much."
In a short time after the conversation came to an end, Trenton was reached, and calling a cab, Mr. Garwell had himself and Nat driven to one of the public buildings.
Here both spent some time in looking over legal records, and one of the records Nat had to copy off in pencil for his employer. After this, came a visit to a lawyer"s office, and Nat was sent on a short errand.
When the business in Trenton was over, both found they had two hours to wait before they could get a train for home.
"Let us go and get a lunch," said Mr. Garwell, and led the way to a fine restaurant in that vicinity.
The real estate broker was on the point of entering the eating place when a child of five ran up to him, exclaiming:
"Papa, I want you to buy me some candy, please."
Now, as it happened, Mr. Garwell was a bachelor, so he was taken much by surprise, and so was our hero.
"Did you speak to me, my dear?" he asked, kindly.
"Why, yes, papa," answered the little one, readily.
"But I am not your father, child," and the real estate broker began to flush up.
"Oh, yes, you are!" came from the child.
"No. What is your name?"
At this the child laughed heartily.
"What a funny papa you are, to ask me my name. But won"t you buy me the candy? Please, do," went on the little one, pleadingly.
"What a funny mistake," said Mr. Garwell to Nat.
"Don"t you know the little girl?"
"Not in the least."
"Get the candy!" cried the child, petulantly.
"All right, I"ll get you some candy, only don"t call me papa," answered the real estate broker. And he slipped into a candy shop, and purchased some chocolates. He had just pa.s.sed the confectionery over, when a middle-aged lady hurried up.
"Oh, mamma, see the candy papa bought me!" cried the little girl, gleefully.
"You shouldn"t have bought her so much candy, Horace," said the lady to Mr. Garwell, severely. "Chocolates make Lulu sick."
Being thus addressed, John Garwell turned redder than ever.
"Excuse me, madam," he stammered. "I--er--this is a mistake. My name is not Horace."
"Not Horace. The idea!"
"My name is John--John Garwell, and I am from New York."
At this answer the lady looked perplexed, and then indignant.