From Farm to Fortune; or, Nat Nason's Strange Experience

"Is it possible! Tell me the particulars," and Nat did so. "We must do what we can to get your money back. This chap may have some property somewhere."

"Well, even if I don't get the money back, it's a satisfaction to put him where he belongs," said our hero.

"Perhaps you'll not be so anxious to get that hundred dollars after you've heard what I have to tell, Nat," went on John Garwell, with a quiet smile.

"What have you to tell, Mr. Garwell?"

"It's about that property in which your grandfather and your father were interested."

"Is there a share coming to me?"

"Yes."

"What is it worth?"

"That remains to be learned. The hotel folks want all that tract of land, as I told you. I shall advise you to hold out for sixty thousand dollars."

"Sixty thousand dollars!" gasped Nat, thinking he had not heard aright.

"Yes."

"Do you mean to say that you think my share in that property is worth sixty thousand dollars?"

"Either that or pretty close to it. I would not take a cent less than fifty-five thousand dollars."

"It's a—a fortune!"

"It certainly is a neat sum of money for any lad to fall heir to. I trust, if you do get it, that you invest it wisely."

"I'll do my best to do that, Mr. Garwell. But this—stumps me! Sixty thousand dollars! What will Uncle Abner say when he hears of it!"

"I'm afraid he will be a bit jealous. I'm jealous myself," added the real estate broker, with a twinkle in his eye.

"I know you are not," answered Nat, honestly. "Just the same, sir, if I get that money, you are going to have your full share for helping me get it."

"Well, I shan't object to my regular commission."

"And you are going to have more," added Nat, firmly.

"The way matters have turned out will make that Shanley of Brooklyn sick," continued John Garwell. "And it will make Rufus Cameron sick, too. The business will be transacted entirely through me, and they will not get a cent in commissions."

"Well, I'm glad to get back at Rufus Cameron," answered Nat. "I haven't forgotten how he treated me."

"His aunt will have nothing more to do with him. He has got to support himself."

"I hope it makes a man of him," said our hero.

The next three weeks were busy ones for Nat. He had to appear against Nick Smithers, who was brought to New York, tried, and sentenced to several years in prison. It was found that there was money coming to the swindler, and through this our hero and the others who had put up their money for positions with "Hamilton Dart," received what was coming to them.

"It was great of you to run him down," said the sick man to Nat. "This return of money will please my sister."

"And I am thankful too," added Harry Bray.

The day after Nick Smithers was convicted the deal concerning the property near Central Park was closed. It was shown that a part of the property really belonged to Nat, and the sum of sixty thousand dollars was eventually turned over to the youth for this. But this was not until he was of age.

"Nat's a rich man now," said Abner Balberry, when the youth became twenty-one. "He's got a reg'lar fortune."

"You shall have something of this, Uncle Abner," said our hero, and he gave his uncle five thousand dollars in cash. He also gave the same amount to John Garwell.

In the meantime our hero had stuck close to the real-estate business, and learned it thoroughly. He was still John Garwell's private clerk.

"Are you going to leave me, now you have your fortune?" questioned the real estate broker, anxiously.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No, indeed!"

"How would you like to take me in as a partner, Mr. Garwell?"

"I'd like it first-rate, Nat—in fact, I was going to mention that myself."

"Then let us form a partnership," and this was done without delay. The new firm, prospered from the very start, much to the satisfaction of all concerned.

In the meantime, Nat did not forget his old friends the Talcotts. Although he no longer lived with them, he visited them often. He learned through the widow that her son was anxious to buy out the store in which he worked. The price was twelve hundred dollars, and one day Nat bought it, and had the transfer made out in Dick's name.

"You deserve this, Dick," said he. "When I was a stranger and mighty green you did your best by me."

"Well, you've paid me back," said Dick, with a grin. "You're a gentleman, Nat, you are."

"And how about being green?"

"You're not green any more. You're as smart as they make 'em!"

Since then the years have rolled on. Nat is still in business and is doing well. He has married and settled down in New York City; and here we will leave him.

THE END