From Farm to Fortune Part 39

"No. But he will have it in for you, Nat, I am afraid."

"Oh, I guess I can take care of myself," answered our hero, calmly.

"This Shanley has tried to trip me up several times," went on John Garwell, leaning back in his office chair. "He tries to find out what I am doing, and then he does his best to steal the business away from me."

"Maybe this will teach him a lesson."

"Possibly; but I am afraid not, Nat."

Several days pa.s.sed, and Nat kept at work steadily. During that time he received a letter from his uncle, in which Abner Balberry stated that he had arrived home once more, and found everything on the farm all right.

"Uncle Abner isn't such a bad sort after all," thought Nat, "Only he ought to drop some of his miserly habits. Perhaps, now that he is married again, he will."

One day our hero had to go up to One Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street on an errand.

"Take an elevated train," said his employer, and handed him the necessary carfare.

It did not take Nat long to reach the elevated station. Purchasing a ticket, he dropped it in the box, and walked out on the platform.

Only a few people were present, for it was the quiet hour of the morning. Among the number was a thick-set, trampish-looking fellow, who was smoking a short clay pipe. The man was more than half intoxicated, and lurched from side to side as he walked along the platform.

"That fellow had better look out for himself," thought our hero. "If he isn't careful, he may fall out on the tracks and get hurt."

As our hero had some time to wait for a train, he pa.s.sed the man several times. The face of the fellow looked familiar, and Nat wondered where he had seen him before.

"I've certainly met him somewhere," thought the boy. "But where? I don't think it was in New York."

Presently the elevated train came into sight and those on the platform prepared to get aboard when it should stop for them.

The man lurched forward as before, and of a sudden fell sprawling directly in front of the train.

CHAPTER XXIII

TOM NOLAN'S CONFESSION

A cry of horror went up from those who saw the mishap, and some women present turned their heads away, expecting that the semi-intoxicated individual would be killed.

Nat's heart leaped into his throat, but he did not lose his presence of mind. He was but a few feet from the man, and as quick as a flash he jumped forward, caught the fellow up, and dragged him out of harm's way.

"Wha--what yer doin'?" stammered the fellow, gazing unsteadily at our hero.

"Do you want to be killed?" asked Nat, sharply.

"They won't--won't dare to kill me," said the fellow. "I'm a--a--good citizen."

"He ought to be locked up," said a man standing near.

"It was a brave deed," said one of the ladies.

"Who's goin' to lock me up?" demanded the tramp, for he was nothing less. And he began to show fight, at which the majority of the crowd turned away, and hurried to board the train. Nat hesitated for a second, and then concluded to let the train go on and take the next one.

"Say, you pulled me from the track, didn't you?" said the man, after another look at Nat.

"I did."

"n.o.ble boy. I ought to reward you."

"I don't want any reward."

"Humph! Don't worry, my dear friend--Tom Nolan ain't got no money to reward you with." And the semi-drunken man indulged in a senseless chuckle.

"See here, haven't I met you before?" demanded Nat, looking at the man more closely than ever.

"Maybe yer have, an' maybe yer haven't."

"Where do you come from?"

"Me? I'm an Ohio man, I am, and I ain't ashamed to own it. Ohio's best State in the Union."

"So you are from Ohio. Were you ever in and around Brookville and Caswell?" went on our hero, suddenly.

"Sure. I spent two months in that district not very long ago. But I had to git out, I did." And the tramp chuckled again.

"What made you get out?" And now Nat was all attention.

"Folks didn't like me around."

"Didn't you treat them fairly?"

"Sure I did, but they thought their barns was too good for Tom Nolan to sleep in."

"And that's why they chased you away, eh?"

"Thet's it, my young friend. It was this way--to tell the plain truth.

One night I went to sleep in a barn with my pipe in my mouth. Fust thing I knowed some hay got afire. A man came runnin' to put the fire out, and I had to leg it to git away."

"Was that up between Caswell and Brookville?"

"You've struck it, but--but--what's this to you, anyway?" and now Tom Nolan began to look disturbed.

"It's a good deal to me. That was my uncle's barn, and I was accused of setting it on fire."

"Gee shoo! Yer don't say! Say, I've put my foot into it, ain't I?"

"You certainly have."