"You are to come three nights a week, for lessons in arithmetic and penmanship."

"Do they give the lessons free?"

"No, I am going to settle that."

"How much will you pay?"

"Three dollars a month."

"I ought to pay that."

"No, I am going to do it," said Nat, firmly, and he kept his word.

As John Garwell's private clerk, Nat received ten dollars per week, and as he had no school bills to pay for himself he found it easy to pay for d.i.c.k. The newsboy was making rapid progress, and this not only pleased his mother, but also the man who had promised to give d.i.c.k a position in his stationery store.

"I'm going to have a job in the store next month," said the newsboy one day. "Mr. Andrews' clerk is going to leave, and I am to take his place."

"And how much will Mr. Andrews give you?" asked Mrs. Talcott.

"Six dollars a week to start on, and he says he will give me eight dollars as soon as I can help on the books."

"I am glad to hear it, d.i.c.k."

"I guess I've got Nat to thank for the job," said the newsboy. "I had to do some writing for Mr. Andrews, and he said the writing was all right."

"Yes, you can certainly thank Nat," said Mrs. Talcott.

The days pa.s.sed swiftly for Nat. He made good progress at the evening school, and Mr. Garwell was correspondingly pleased. Every day the real estate broker trusted Nat more and more, until the lad occupied a truly responsible position.

One day Nat was sent to Brooklyn, to have a certain doc.u.ment signed by a lady of wealth.

"You must get Mrs. Parloe's signature to this, Nat," said his employer, "and get somebody to witness the signature, and sign here," he added.

"Yes, sir."

"The paper is valuable, and I don't want you to let it go out of your sight," went on John Garwell.

"I'll take care to keep my eye on it," answered Nat.

He was soon on his way, and after crossing the Brooklyn Bridge, took a street car to the address given him. It was a fine brownstone house, with elegant lace curtains at the windows.

"Does Mrs. Parloe live here?" he asked of the girl who came to the door.

"Yes, sir."

"I would like to see her on business," and Nat handed out a card on which was printed:

JOHN WILBUR GARWELL, Real Estate Broker.

_Represented by_ NATHANIEL M. NASON.

The girl told Nat to take a seat, and went off with the card. He waited for fully five minutes, during which he heard a low murmur of voices in a back room. Then a tall, dark-eyed man came forward.

"What do you wish of Mrs. Parloe?" he questioned, abruptly.

"Excuse me, but my business is with the lady," answered Nat, politely.

He had been told to transact business with Mrs. Parloe and with n.o.body else.

"Oh! I suppose you came about that property," went on the dark-eyed man, surlily. "If you did, let me tell you, it won't do any good."

To this our hero made no reply.

"Mrs. Parloe will see you upstairs," said the girl, returning, and showed Nat the way up. The dark-eyed man started to follow, but the girl called him back.

"Mrs. Parloe wished you to remain below, Mr. Cameron," she said.

At this the man uttered something under his breath which Nat could not catch. Evidently, he was very angry, and he went into a side room, slamming the door after him.

Nat found Mrs. Parloe sitting in an easy chair by a front window. She was something of an invalid and rather old.

"I am glad to see you, Mr. Nason," said she. "Take a seat."

"Thank you," returned Nat. "Here is a note for you from Mr. Garwell,"

and he pa.s.sed it over.

The old lady read the communication carefully, nodding to herself as she did so. Then she turned again to our hero.

"Have you the doc.u.ment with you?"

"Yes, ma'am," and Nat brought it forth. "You will have to have somebody as a witness. Can I call somebody for you?"

The old lady mused for a moment.

"I don't believe Rufus will do it," she said, half aloud.

"Do you mean the gentleman I met downstairs?"

"Yes, my nephew, Rufus Cameron. He does not wish me to transact business with Mr. Garwell. You may call John, my hired man. He is quite intelligent."

"Where will I find him?"

"You will--but never mind, Mary can call him."

Mrs. Parloe touched a bell, and soon Mary appeared, and went off to find the hired man. In the meantime, Nat fixed a reading stand so it could be used as a writing table, and brought out a stylographic pen his employer had given him.

Soon the hired man appeared. He was fairly well educated, and showed it in his face and manner.

"I am going to sign this doc.u.ment, John," said the old lady. "I wish you to witness my signature."