"I'm a-goin' to New York," he announced one day, shortly after the pot of gold incident.

"What are you going to do there?" asked his wife.

"I'm a-goin' to look fer Nat. I've heard he's down there, an' I want to save him from goin' to destruction."

"Better leave him where he is," said the new wife, who did not fancy another of her husband's people around the farm.

"No, I'm a-goin' to hunt him up. I feel it's my duty to do it."

"Then, if you go to New York, you have got to take me along, Abner."

"Take you along, Lucy?"

"Yes. I've always wanted to go to New York. Fred can take care of the farm while we are gone." Fred and the other Guff children had been installed on the place, but none of them had proved of much a.s.sistance.

Fred, himself, was decidedly lazy--not half as willing as Nat, so Abner himself admitted.

"I don't see how I can take you, Lucy. It costs a heap to go to New York."

"Well, if you can spend the money on yourself, you can spend it on me, too," she answered, calmly.

"But it's my duty to go--to save Nat from goin' to the dogs."

"You didn't bother about Nat when you were courting me."

"I didn't know where he was, exactly."

"Pooh! Well, if you go you must take me. If you don't, you won't find me or the things when you get back."

This rather alarmed the miserly farmer, and he was half afraid she might sell off all his belongings, and clear out.

"All right, you shall go," he said, at last. "But it's goin' to cost a terrible sight o' money," he added, with a long sigh.

It was decided that they should start for New York on the following Monday morning. Mrs. Balberry had relatives at Rochester, and they made arrangements to stop over at that point for one night, for neither the farmer or his spouse wished to take a berth in a sleeping car.

"It's money thrown away," said Abner, "an', besides, who kin sleep with a car runnin' fifty miles an hour? If there was an accident a feller would be killed before he woke up!"

Mrs. Balberry's son, Fred, grumbled greatly at having to run the farm during their absence, and the mother had to promise the lad fifty cents a day for the extra work.

"It's an outrage," declared Abner, when he heard of this. "He ain't worth his keep!"

"He is my son, and you have no right to abuse him!" declared the new wife, and then the farmer found it best to say no more. He was discovering that his wife had a sharp tongue, and could use it on the slightest provocation.

Not to go to the expense of buying meals on the train, they provided themselves with a basket full of food, and set off bright and early at the time appointed. The run to Rochester was without incident, and Mrs.

Balberry's relatives there treated them kindly. Then, on Tuesday, they took another train for New York, and late in the afternoon found themselves at the Grand Central Depot.

"It's a fearfully crowded place," was Abner Balberry's comment, as he gazed around.

"Which way are we to go, Abner?" asked his wife, and now she clung to him, for the bustle and noise frightened her.

"Let's git out on the street, where I kin have a look around," he answered, and pulled her along through the crowd. A boy wanted to take his carpet bag, but he shook the urchin off.

Fortunately, while at Rochester, the farmer had heard of a hotel which I shall call the Callac House, located but a few blocks from the station.

A policeman directed the pair to this place, and here Abner Balberry succeeded in getting a room for a dollar and a half a night.

"Steep, ain't it?" he remarked, when he and his wife had been taken to the room, on the seventh floor.

"Steep? I should say it was, Abner--the seventh story! It's dreadful! I know I shan't sleep--thinking of what to do in case of a fire!"

"I meant the price. I don't care how high up it is."

"Will they give us meals for that, too?"

"No, the meals is extry."

"It's 'most a waste of money, I must say."

"Well, I had to pay it, an' so there ain't no use to talk about it.

Let's go to bed, an' git our money's worth, an' in the mornin' I'll look fer Nat."

CHAPTER XVII

A CASE OF MISTAKEN IDENt.i.tY

On the day that Abner Balberry started for New York to look for Nat, our hero was called into Mr. Garwell's private office.

"Nat, how would you like to take a run down to Trenton with me?" asked the gentleman, pleasantly.

"I'd like it first-rate, Mr. Garwell," was the prompt answer.

"Very well, we'll go in half an hour. I wish to look up certain records concerning some property."

"When will we be back, Mr. Garwell?"

"Oh, some time this evening," answered the gentleman.

It may be mentioned here that John Garwell was a real estate broker. He handled only high-cla.s.s properties, and chiefly those used for business purposes. He had started years before in a modest way, but was now fairly well-to-do, and his business was steadily increasing. He had taken a great fancy to Nat, and was wondering if he could not use the lad as a private secretary.

"I'd do it in a minute if the boy knew shorthand and typewriting," he told himself. "Perhaps I can get him to learn those branches."

At the appointed time our hero was ready for the trip to Trenton. His employer had stuffed a valise full of legal papers, and Nat took possession of the bag.

"Be careful of that valise," cautioned Mr. Garwell. "The contents are very valuable."

"I'll look out for it," was the answer.