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

CHAPTER XXVII

A SCENE AT THE HOTEL

The fellow who had posed as a broker and commission merchant was taken completely by surprise when confronted by Nat, and for the moment did not know what to say.

"I guess you didn't expect to see me again," said our hero, after a pause, during which Nick Smithers—to use his real name—glared fiercely at the youth.

"Excuse me, boy, but I don't know you!" said the swindler, at last. "You have made a strange mistake."

"Oh, no, I haven't," answered Nat. "You are Hamilton Dart, alias Nick Smithers."

"My dear young friend you are in error. My name is Josiah Garfield, and I am from Concord, Massachusetts."

"I am not mistaken. You are Nick Smithers, and you are the rascal who swindled me in New York City."

"Boy, you must be mad!" burst out Nick Smithers, in assumed indignation. "I a swindler! Preposterous!"

"It's the plain truth, and there is no use of your denying it."

By this time a small crowd was gathering around. Soon a clerk of the hotel came up hastily.

"What's the trouble here?" he questioned, anxiously.

"This boy is crazy," said Nick Smithers.

"No, I am not. This man is a swindler, and I want him arrested," came from Nat. He made up his mind, come what might, he would stand up for his rights.

"I am an honest man—well-known in Concord, where I keep a jewelry establishment," puffed Nick Smithers. "This is an insult to me." He turned to the hotel clerk. "I shall hold your hotel responsible for this."

"I—this looks as if you were making a mistake," said the clerk to Nat. "This gentleman has been stopping here for over a week. He is registered on our book as Josiah Garfield."

"He has half a dozen names," said Nat. "I tell you he is a swindler."

"And I say the boy is crazy. Boy, if you say another word, I'll have you locked up."

Nick Smithers thought Nat was so green that he would back down, but for once he made a mistake.

"Call a policeman, please," he said to the clerk. "We can talk this over when we get to the police headquarters."

"Are you sure of what you are doing?" asked the clerk.

"Yes, I am sure of it. I can prove beyond any doubt whatever that this fellow is a confidence man and a swindler. He swindled me out of a hundred dollars in New York, and he swindled several others out of the same amount. Just help me to lock him up and I'll get all the witnesses necessary."

"That's straight talk," came from a commercial traveler standing nearby. "If the boy can prove what he says this man ought to be arrested by all means."

"He can't prove a thing," answered Nick Smithers, but he began to grow hot and cold, for he realized that Nat meant business and was not to be overawed as easily as he had imagined.

"I'll call a cop!" piped in a newsboy who had drifted into the room. "I see one on de corner a minit ago," and away he ran to execute his errand.

"The police will have to settle this," said the hotel clerk. "If you are making a mistake it will cost you dear," he added, to Nat.

"I am making no mistake," answered our hero, firmly.

This reply set Nick Smithers to thinking. To try to bluff Nat was one thing; to prove his innocence at the police station might be quite another.

"I can't bother to go to the station—I've got to get a train for Boston!" he cried, and ran from the room with all of his speed.

"Stop him!" yelled Nat, and, began to give chase. "Stop him!"

The cry was taken up by several others, and all began to run after Nick Smithers.

"Keep my valise—I'll catch him if I can!" said Nat, to the hotel clerk, and off he sped, and was soon ahead of the others who had joined in the chase.

If there was one thing that Nick Smithers could do well, it was to run, and now he made the best possible use of his rather long legs. He darted out of a side door of the hotel, down the square, and around a corner leading into a back street lined with small shops and dwellings.

"The young fool!" he muttered, as he sped along. "Who would have dreamed of his turning up in such a place as this?"

At last the swindler turned into another street. A car was passing and he hopped aboard this. Not to be seen, he dropped into a seat and crouched down. He rode on the car a distance of a dozen squares and then left, and hurried to a small house setting far back, in a rather neglected garden. The house was to let, and he pretended to be looking it over, and thus passed to a back porch and out of sight.

Nat continued the hunt for the swindler for a good hour and then gave it up.

"Well, how did you make out?" asked the hotel clerk, upon his return.

"He got away from me."

"He put on a pretty good front, if he was a swindler."

"Yes—that's how he came to swindle me and several others," answered our hero.

"Did you report the case to the police?"

"There is no use of doing that."

"Why not? They'll help you all they can."

"That may be true. But by the time my report is in, that rascal will be miles and miles away."

Nevertheless, Nat was persuaded to report to the city authorities before he went to the railroad station. He had missed his train and so had to lay over until three hours later.

This was fortunate for him, for a little later came a telegram from John Garwell, which ran as follows:

"Go to Albany at once and get papers from Caswick & Sampson."

This made Nat change his plans, and he at once found out when a train could be had for Albany. Half an hour later he was aboard of the cars, little dreaming of the surprise in store for him.

CHAPTER XXVIII

A SUDDEN PROPOSAL

After the excitement of the chase was at an end, Nick Smithers had a chance to think matters over, and he concluded to get out of Springfield without delay.

He was much upset because of Nat's unexpected appearance, and the fact that his satchel and belongings were still at the hotel did not tend to add to his good humor.

"I can't go for those things, or send for them," he reasoned. "Confound that boy! Who would ever have dreamed that he would make such trouble for me? I took him for a regular country greeny. But he's as sharp as a razor!"

For a long time matters had been going illy with Nicholas Smithers, alias Hamilton Dart, alias half a dozen other names. He had tried to work one of his swindling schemes in Springfield, but nobody had taken his bait, and his ready funds were consequently running low. When he had money he lived extravagantly, so that his ill-gotten gains never lasted him any great length of time.

"Something must be done, and that pretty soon," he reasoned. "Wonder where I had best go next?"

Before going to Springfield he had had in mind to try Albany, and now he resolved to go to the latter-named city by the first train. This train was the very one upon which Nat was riding, but the swindler did not immediately discover this.

Some miles out of Springfield the train stopped at a small station. The only person in waiting was a young lady handsomely dressed, who did not appear to have any baggage. She got in, and as chance would have it, took a seat close to the swindler.

Nick Smithers had always interested himself in those around him, and he looked the young lady over carefully. She was certainly beautiful, and she appeared to be rich.

"Traveling all alone, eh?" mused the swindler. "And no doubt she has money. Wonder if I could get anything out of her?"

He watched his chance, and when she happened to drop her handkerchief, he promptly picked it up.

"Charming day," said he, with a smile.

"It is indeed beautiful," said the young lady, turning her dark, brilliant eyes full upon the rascal.

"Do you enjoy riding in the cars?" he went on, with another smile.

"I? Well—I—I—What will you say to me when I tell you that now, for the first time, I find myself in the cars?"

"For the first time?" repeated Nick Smithers, in astonishment.

"It is even so," said the young lady. "I do not wonder that you are surprised. I—I presume there are few cases like mine." And she heaved a long sigh.

"Here is certainly a mystery!" thought the confidence man. "Can she have lived all her life in the backwoods, or what? I must investigate this."

"You are surprised?" she said, softly.

"I must confess that I am, madam. Perhaps you have a dislike to cars?"

"No, not in the least."

"Then–" And Nick Smithers paused questioningly.

"I—I—perhaps I had better tell my story," faltered the young lady. "I need a confidant, and I need advice. Can I trust you, sir?"

"You assuredly can," said the swindler, instantly. "If I can be of any service whatever to you, command me."

The young lady glanced around shyly, to see that no other passengers were near.

"I presume I shall have to tell my whole story," went on the young lady. "It is rather long."

"Never mind—we have plenty of time," answered Nick Smithers.

"My father died when I, his only child, was very young. My mother was already dead. My father left a large fortune, estimated at that time, at about a hundred thousand dollars."

"That's some money," thought the swindler. "I hope she has some of it with her."

"Of course, it was necessary to leave me in charge of someone. For this trust my father's brother was selected. He was poor, never having met with the worldly success that crowned my father's efforts. The allowance he received for caring for me and my inheritance was liberal. Shortly after my father died my uncle moved to the town where I boarded the train, living in a house which was a part of my father's estate."

"I understand," said the swindler, nodding. "Go on."

"According to the terms of my father's will my uncle was to have sole charge of my property until I was twenty-five, unless I should before that time get—get married." The young lady blushed. "It was a stupid provision, in one way, for it made my uncle take me to that out-of-the-way place, and practically keep me buried alive, for fear I would get married before I was twenty-five."

"He wanted to hang on to a good thing," said Nick Smithers, with a laugh. "But please proceed."

"At first I did not understand my uncle's motive, but as I grew older my eyes were opened, and at last I resolved to—to—well, to get out of his power."

"And so you ran away, is that it?"

"Yes. This morning I succeeded in eluding my uncle's vigil, and here I am. I came away in such a hurry that I brought with me no extra baggage. No doubt you were surprised to see me enter without so much as an extra wrap."

"I thought you might be going only a short distance."

"I scarcely know where I am going."

"Then you have formed no plans?"

"None whatever. I have not had time, and I know so little of the world. All I care for now is, not to fall into the hands of my uncle until—until–"

"You are twenty-five or married," finished the swindler.

"Exactly."

"May I presume to ask you your present age?"

"Yesterday I was twenty-one."

"Then, legally, you ought to be your own mistress."

"So I thought. That is one thing which gave me the courage to run away."

There was a short spell of silence, during which Nick Smithers did some rapid thinking. He felt that here was a chance to make a round sum of money. If this young lady was rich, it would be a stroke of luck to get her in his power.

So far the swindler had never married. He had once proposed to a fine girl, but she had read him thoroughly, and rejected him. It might not be a bad scheme to propose to the girl before him. He could see that she was very romantic, and he was willing to do almost anything for money.

"I feel honored that you have taken me into your confidence," said he. "Permit me to introduce myself, Lancelot Powers, from Boston. I am traveling for my health."

"I am pleased to know you, Mr. Powers. My name is Clara Rosemead, and my father was Colonel Rosemead, of the International Cable Company."

"I shall consider it my duty to do all I can for you," went on Nick Smithers. "You—you—well, to tell the strict truth, you interest me mightily. In fact, Miss Rosemead, I can't help but love you."

"Oh!"

"I trust that you are not offended?" said the swindler, hastily.

"Oh, no, Mr. Powers. But—I didn't quite expect this. But I—I well, I like you, too." And again the girl bent her dark brilliant eyes on him.

"If you'd marry me you'd make me the happiest man in America!" went on Nick Smithers. "It would be so romantic!" he whispered. "Think of how we met on the cars, and fell in love at sight!"

"It would be romantic!" she clasped her hands together. "I'll do it!"

"Good! It will be a fine thing to outwit this uncle of yours."

"Yes! yes! We must outwit him by all means. If he should learn of what I am doing–"

"He can learn the truth—after we are married, Clara." And then Nick Smithers gave the girl's hand a tight squeeze. Had they been in a more secluded place he would have kissed her.

"I—I—am happy!" she said, softly.

"What do you say to getting married when we reach Albany?" went on the swindler. "Then we can return to your home and demand that your uncle make a settlement."

"I shall do as you think best, Lancelot. I know I can trust you," she answered.

"This is the safest snap yet!" thought Nick Smithers. "Once I get hold of her money I can hold her right under my thumb. She has been kept in such seclusion that she knows absolutely nothing of the world at large. And such a beauty, too! Nick, for once you have certainly struck it rich!"

CHAPTER XXIX

THE CAPTURE OF NICK SMITHERS

During the next half-hour Nick Smithers and the young lady became very confidential. She stated that she had just fifty dollars with her, but did not show the money.

"My uncle is a strange man in some things," she said. "He keeps not less than ten thousand dollars of my money in the house, and all in dollar bills!"

"He certainly must be strange," said Nick Smithers. "Well, it will be an easy matter for him to turn over the bills to you."

"Yes, Lancelot; but you will have to take care of the money for me."

"I'll certainly do that," was the swindler's quick reply, and then he smiled to himself, over the glorious prospect ahead.

There was a dining-car attached to the train, and not long after the conversation recorded above, the swindler asked his bride-to-be if she would not take lunch with him.

"Why, yes," she answered. "I am very hungry, for I have not eaten anything since yesterday."

"Then come at once," was the answer, and Nick Smithers led the way into the dining car. He passed Nat, who was busy devouring a sandwich and a piece of pie, but strange to say neither saw the other.

Nick Smithers and the young lady had just ordered an elaborate lunch, when of a sudden the damsel gave a cry.

"Oh!"

"What is the trouble?" questioned the swindler.

"Do you see that man?" And the young lady pointed to a small individual who had just entered the dining car.

"Yes. What of him?"

"He is my—my uncle!"

"Is it possible? Then he must be following you."

"He is!"

"Well, I shall protect you, so do not fear," whispered Nick Smithers. "Remember, we are to be married to-day. He shall not stop you. He can't do it, for you are twenty-one."

"Oh, Lancelot, I—I am so afraid!"

By this time the small man had reached the table at which the couple were seated. He stared in amazement.

"Hullo, Miss Jacobotson, what are you doing here?" he cried.

"Don't touch me!" screamed the young lady, wildly. "Don't touch me."

"This young lady is under my protection," came loftily from Nick Smithers.

"Really?" said the small man. "Since when?"

"Never mind since when. She is under my protection, and I do not want you to molest her."

"Say, do you know who she is?" asked the little man, curiously.

"I do."

"Well, she has got to go back to the asylum, and that is all there is to it."

"Asylum?" gasped Nick Smithers.

"That is what I said."

"I'll not go back!" screamed the young lady. "Lancelot, protect me!" and she clutched the swindler around the neck.

"Do you mean to tell me she belongs in an asylum?" came faintly from Nick Smithers.

"She does. She escaped from the lunatic asylum at Sarville yesterday."

"Wha—what is her name?"

"Mary Jacobotson. Her mind was turned years ago by reading romantic novels, and she imagines she has an uncle who is keeping her money away from her."

"Is she under the charge of an uncle?"

"No. Her father had her placed in the asylum, for he couldn't keep her at home. Her father is a well-to-do builder of Hartford."

All this time the young lady, who was indeed insane, was clinging tightly to Nick Smithers' neck.

"Don't leave me!" she implored. "I love you! Don't leave me, and you shall have a million dollars and a rubber doll! Don't leave me, Augustus! I implore thee, by the light of yonder stars!" And now she began to rave.

"I—I reckon I made a mistake," said the swindler, much crestfallen. "Let go of me!" And now he pushed the raving girl from him. The train had stopped at a station, and in another moment the asylum keeper had the patient on the platform, where she continued to rave. Then the train moved on.

Sinking back in his seat at the dining-car table, the swindler mopped the beads of perspiration from his forehead with his handkerchief. He was utterly disgusted.

"That is where I certainly put my foot in it," he muttered. "But I can be thankful I didn't marry the girl!"

"Sorry, sar, but you'll have to settle for this lunch," said the waiter.

"If so, I reckon I'll eat it," answered Nick Smithers, and proceeded to do so.

Nat had watched the whole scene with interest. At first he was inclined to confront the swindler without delay, but then reconsidered the matter.

"I must go slow," he mused. "If I'm not careful he'll get away again."

When Nick Smithers left the dining car Nat followed him to the smoker and saw the swindler settle down for a comfortable smoke.

"He isn't going to leave the train just yet," thought our hero. "I shouldn't be surprised if he is bound for Albany. If that's so, I had better wait until we arrive there. Then we'll be in New York State, where the offense was committed."

The train rattled on, and at the proper time rolled into the big station at Albany. Nat kept close behind Nick Smithers and at the same time looked around anxiously to see if he could find a policeman.

It was not long before our hero sighted an officer of the law, gazing curiously at the crowd leaving the train. At once he beckoned the policeman to come to him.

"What's wanted?" asked the officer, anxiously.

"Do you see that man?"

"Yes."

"He is a swindler, who is wanted in New York City for swindling several men and myself. I want him arrested. Be careful how you handle him, for he ran away from me in Springfield."

"You are sure of this?"

"I am positive. But be careful, or he will get away."

"He won't get away from me," said the policeman.

Nick Smithers was hurrying for the street when Nat and the officer of the law came up to him.

"Stop, Nick Smithers!" cried our hero, and caught him by the arm.

The swindler swung around, stared at Nat, and his face fell.

"This is the time you don't get away so easily," went on Nat. "Officer, do your duty."

"You'll have to consider yourself under arrest," said the policeman. "This young man makes a charge against you."

"Why, that young man is a lunatic!" cried Nick Smithers, thinking of his experience on the train. "They let him out of the asylum only day before yesterday."

"Don't you believe a word of it," said Nat. "This rascal is one of the slickest swindlers in the world. Take him to headquarters, and I'll go along and prove every word I say."

"You'll have to come along," said the officer.

"All right, I'll go," answered Nick Smithers, but an instant later he started to run away through the crowd. Nat, however, was on guard, and putting out a foot, he sent the rascal pitching headlong on the depot platform.

"Hi! what did you do that for?" demanded Nick Smithers, on arising. And he glared at our hero as if to eat him up.

"You'll come along with me!" came angrily from the policeman, and without more ceremony he marched the swindler to the police station, with our hero following.

CHAPTER XXX

NAT COMES INTO HIS OWN

Once at the police station, Nat made a charge against Nick Smithers, and then the swindler was asked what he had to say for himself.

"This is all a mistake," he said. "I am not the person."

"He is wanted in Chicago as well as in New York City," went on our hero.

In the meantime another officer had been looking up Nick Smithers' picture in the rogues' gallery.

"I don't think the young man is mistaken," he said. "Wait till I telephone to New York for more particulars."

This was done, and inside of an hour the rascal's identity was fully established. Then Nick Smithers broke down.

"It's all up with me, and I may as well confess," he said, scowling at Nat. "But I must say, I never thought a country boy would run me down."

"Well, you see, I am not quite as green as I used to be," answered Nat, with a faint smile.

"But you missed it by not coming to me on the quiet," went on Nick Smithers. "Had you done so, you might have gotten your hundred dollars back. As it is, you'll not get a cent."

"That remains to be seen," answered our hero.

When Nat could get away from the police station he hurried at once to the law offices of Messrs. Caswick & Sampson, as directed by Mr. Garwell.

"So you are the young man John Garwell telegraphed about," said Mr. Sampson, shaking hands. "I am glad to meet you. The business on hand concerns you personally as well as it concerns your employer."

"Concerns me?" ejaculated Nat, in wonder. "How is that?"

"I am interested in a piece of property located in New York City, near Central Park. By some papers which you turned over to Mr. Garwell it would seem that you are likewise interested in the land."

"Through my grandfather?"

"Yes."

"Then he really owned a share of the land?"

"He did, and so far as Mr. Garwell and I can ascertain he never sold out his claim."

"What is the claim worth?"

"You will have to ask Mr. Garwell about that. He wanted me to sign certain documents, and let you take them to New York to-night. Can you do that?"

"I think I can. But the police may wish to detain me." And then our hero told of the arrest of Nick Smithers. Mr. Sampson became interested, and in the end went to the station with Nat. He knew some of the officials, so our hero had no more trouble.

"We shall send the rascal to New York as soon as the officers down there want him," said one of the police officials; and, later on, this was done.

Not to lose time, our hero took the night train for the metropolis. He had a berth in the sleeper, but it was a long while before he could get to sleep. There were many things to think about, and the question of property near Central Park was an absorbing one.

Arriving in New York, he went to his boarding house for breakfast, and then hurried down to the office. It was not until ten o'clock that John Garwell appeared.

"Did you get the papers from Mr. Sampson?" was his employer's first question.

"Yes, sir."

"And fix up those matters at Springfield, too?"

"Yes, Mr. Garwell, and I did some other things, too," added Nat. "I had that rascal, Hamilton Dart, alias Nick Smithers, arrested."