From Farm to Fortune - Part 23
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Part 23

"And you mean to say that you lost the whole hundred dollars!"

e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the newsboy. "That's awful, Nat!"

"I wish I could get hold of that Nick Smithers. I'd--I'd wring his neck for him!"

"It won't do any good to look for him. I know his kind. He's here to-day and gone to-morrow. Those chaps work their schemes all over the States."

Nat was in no humor to eat supper, and scarcely touched a mouthful. Mrs.

Talcott and d.i.c.k did all they could to cheer him up.

"Make the best of it," said the newsboy. "You'll be sure to strike something good sooner or later."

"I guess I'm too much of a greeny to do that," answered Nat.

That night when our hero went to bed he could not sleep. His ready money was running low, and how to turn he did not know. Bitterly he upbraided himself for having trusted Nick Smithers, but this did no good. His money was gone, and it was doubtful if he would ever see a cent of it again.

"I ought to go back on the farm where I belong," he muttered. "I'm not smart enough to get along in a city like New York."

But by morning his thoughts took a turn, and at breakfast his eyes were as bright and expectant as ever.

"I'm going out and get something to do," he said firmly. "And I'm not going to let anybody get the best of me again."

"Do not worry," said Mrs. Talcott. "You can stay here, even if you don't get anything right away. I'll trust you for the board."

"You are very kind," answered Nat, gratefully. "But I can't stand it to do nothing."

All of that day he tramped up one street and down another looking for a situation, but without success.

He could have had one job as an errand boy, but the wages offered were but two dollars per week.

"I can't take that," he said. "I've got to support myself even if I can't do better."

On the next day it rained, but he went out, nevertheless, with an umbrella which Mrs. Talcott loaned him.

He had several advertis.e.m.e.nts, taken from the morning papers, and lost no time in applying at first one place and then another.

The third place offered on his list was in a big office building down near the corner of Broadway and Park Row. When Nat arrived there he found half a dozen young fellows ahead of him.

"You will all have to wait until Mr. Garwell arrives," said a clerk to the crowd. "I expect him any moment."

"Hope he don't keep us too long," grumbled one of those who were waiting. "I don't want to lose the chance of another job if I can't get this."

"You need not wait at all if you don't care to," said the clerk.

Two others came in, and the outer office was comfortably filled, when a stout gentleman walked in quickly, and gave a glance around.

"Hum!" said he, when his eyes fell upon Nat, and he looked at our hero more closely. Nat at once recognized the newcomer as the gentleman he had met on the Brooklyn Bridge.

"How are you, young man," said the gentleman.

"Very well, sir," answered Nat.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to see about the position that was advertised."

"Ah, indeed!" The gentleman gave Nat another look. "Come inside."

"Yes, sir," and our hero quickly followed him to an inner office. Here the gentleman hung up his hat, and sank down in an easy chair at a desk.

"Take a seat. I suppose you remember meeting me?" This was said with a little smile.

"Oh, yes, sir; on the bridge."

"You did me a good turn, and I've not forgotten it. So you want a job, eh? What's your name, and where are you from?"

Nat told him, and also told the gentleman some of his experiences since arriving in the metropolis. John Garwell listened with interest.

"I fancy I can give you an opening," said he. "Here, write a few lines on this sheet of paper." Nat did so. "A very good hand. How much do you want to start on?"

"Enough to support myself, Mr. Garwell."

"That's a fair answer. Can you live on seven dollars a week?"

"I can live on less than that."

"Some young men want a fortune to start on. Yesterday a young man called here for an opening. He had had no experience, yet he wanted not less than twenty dollars a week."

"I guess you didn't engage him," said Nat, with a smile.

"I did not. Well, I'll give you a trial, at seven dollars a week. If you prove satisfactory I'll give you eight dollars at the end of three months, and ten dollars at the end of the first year."

"Thank you, very much."

"You can go to work at once." Mr. Garwell touched a push-b.u.t.ton on his desk, and a clerk appeared. "Wilson, this is the new clerk, Nat Nason.

You can show him his duties. And tell those others that are waiting that the position is filled."

"Yes, sir."

"Wait a minute, Nason. Wilson, you can go."

The clerk disappeared, closing the door behind him.

"I just wished to say a word about what you did for me the other day."

"Oh, that's all right."

"Here is a five-dollar bill for a reward."

"But I don't want any reward, Mr. Garwell. It was nice of you to give me the position."