From Farm to Fortune; or, Nat Nason's Strange Experience by Jr. Horatio Alger (great books of all time .TXT) 📕

It won't hurt you to let me look over the paper," growled Rufus Cameron.

"I have my orders."

"Did John Garwell tell you not to show me the paper?"

"He told me to have it signed, and to bring it right back."

"Well, I want to see it, and I'm going to do it before you leave this house."

"Are you going to take the paper away from me!" cried Nat, in alarm.

"I only want to look at it. As soon as I've read it, I'll give it back to you."

"I can't allow the paper to go out of my possession, Mr. Cameron."

"Mrs. Parloe isn't entirely responsible for what she does. I must see to it that everything is all right."

"Well, you had better call on Mr. Garwell."

"No, I must see the document while you have it here. Come! hand it over."

"I will not."

Nat had scarcely spoken when Rufus Cameron caught him roughly by the shoulder.

"Look here, boy, I am not a man to be trifled with!" he whispered, fiercely. "Let me see the paper, and it will be all right. But if you won't, I'll make a whole lot of trouble for you."

"Let go of me!" and Nat tried to pull himself away.

"You stole this ring while you were upstairs," said Rufus Cameron, quickly, and, putting his hand in Nat's side pocket, he brought it out again with a diamond ring.

"I—I never saw that ring before," gasped Nat.

"You stole it, I say, and unless you behave yourself, I'll have you arrested," went on Rufus Cameron, coldly.

Nat was dumfounded, but like a flash he saw through the trick that the man wanted to play on him.

"You can't fool me, Mr. Rufus Cameron," said he, sharply. "Let me go, or I'll have you hauled up in court for this. Your dirty trick won't work with me."

Rufus Cameron fell back, crestfallen. He had not anticipated such bravery on our hero's part. He was a coward at heart, and too much liquor had somewhat muddled his brain.

"Then you won't show me the document?" he muttered.

"No."

As Nat uttered the word, Rufus Cameron picked up a sea shell lying on a mantelshelf, and swung it behind his head.

"If you don't let me see that——" he began.

Nat rushed at him, and pushed him to one side. Then our hero made for the door. He was just opening it when the seashell was sent whizzing forward. It hit Nat on the head, and the boy dropped unconscious across an easy chair.

For the instant Rufus Cameron was startled. Then rushing to the door, he locked it, and also locked some folding doors leading to a rear apartment.

"I hope I didn't hurt him much," he muttered. "What a young fool he was not to let me see the paper."

He propped Nat up in the easy chair, and placed his hand in the boy's inside pocket. Soon he had the document in his possession, and was looking over it rapidly.

"Just as I thought. I'm glad I got it. Now, we'll see if Shanley and I can't outwit Mr. John Garwell."

Nat was already coming to his senses, and Rufus Cameron lost no time in hurrying to the library of the house. Here he obtained an old document of no consequence, but which still bore his aunt's signature. Rushing back, he placed this in the envelope which had held the other paper of importance.

Nat was just returning to his senses when he found himself being taken out of the house by Rufus Cameron. The man supported him as far as the corner and there placed him on a stone step leading to a church.

"Wha—what did you hit me for?" stammered our hero, feebly.

"I didn't mean to do that; really I didn't," said Rufus Cameron, smoothly. "The shell slipped. I am very sorry—very sorry, indeed."

"It was a mean thing to do."

"It was an accident, I give you my word on it."

Nat felt in his pocket to learn if the document was still there.

"Did you look at that paper?" he questioned.

"No, I didn't. On second thought I have concluded to let my aunt do just as she pleases in this matter."

Nat felt in no condition to argue. He took out the document, glanced at it, and shoved it back into the envelope and then in his pocket.

"I'm sorry this happened. I was excited for the minute. Come and have a drink with me. It will do you good," went on Rufus Cameron.

"I don't drink."

"Shall I show you to the car then?"

"Yes."

When Nat got up the rascal supported him, and thus they made their way to the car line running to the Bridge. Here, our hero boarded a car, and Rufus Cameron watched him ride out of sight.

"That was easy after all," muttered Rufus Cameron to himself. "I only hope it don't make too much trouble in the future. I'll have to let Shanley have this document without delay, and I'd better get out of sight until the affair blows over."

Making his way to a neighboring café, Rufus Cameron treated himself to a drink of strong liquor and a black-looking cigar. Then he returned to his aunt's home. He lived with her, and was doing his best to get certain of her properties away from her.

"Aunt Jane, what did that young man want?" he asked, as he entered her room.

"He came to see me on private business, Rufus," was the quiet answer. Mrs. Parloe did not fancy her nephew's habits, and had often warned him that he must reform.

"Was there anything I could do for you?"

"No, Rufus."

"Do you know, Aunt Jane, I've been thinking of taking a trip to the West," he went on, after a pause.

"So you said before."

"I'd go in a minute if I had the money."

"How much do you want?"

"Two or three hundred dollars at least."

"Is the money gone that I let you have last month?"

"Yes, I had to pay some back bills with that."

"You are very extravagant, Rufus."

"Oh, a young man must spend something."

"But not as much as you spend."

"I don't spend any more than the rest of the fellows in my set. I have got to keep up appearances, you know."

"Your set is altogether too fast a one to suit me."

"Will you let me have the money?"

"How long do you expect to be gone?"

"That depends upon what you will give me. If you'll let me have five hundred dollars, I'll make a trip of two or three months."

Mrs. Parloe thought for a moment, and at last consented to give her nephew the five hundred. She had her check book handy, and soon the check was passed over to the nephew.

"When shall you start?" she asked.

"I don't know. I've a good notion to start to-night. But if you want me to do anything for you before I go——"

"There is nothing, Rufus. Only, if you want to please me, don't get into any bad habits while you are gone."

"Oh, I'm going to turn over a new leaf when I leave Brooklyn," said the hypocrite. "Then, I can leave to-night?"

"Yes."

"In that case, I'll pack my trunk at once," said Rufus Cameron; and a little later he did so. Then he had the trunk taken away, bid his aunt good-by, and was off.

"That was easy," he said to himself, when away from the house. "Now to see Shanley and to arrange for keeping out of sight, in case John Garwell kicks up a fuss."

CHAPTER XXI A MISSING DOCUMENT OF VALUE

As soon as Nat returned to the office he sought out Mr. Garwell, and handed him the document in the envelope.

"Did you have any trouble getting Mrs. Parloe's signature?" asked the real estate broker.

"I had no trouble getting the signature, but I had trouble getting away from the house," answered Nat.

"Trouble getting away? What do you mean?"

"I was stopped by her nephew, a man named Rufus Cameron. He handled me rather roughly."

"Did he try to get the document away from you?" And now John Garwell was all attention.

"He hauled me in the parlor, and demanded that I let him look at the paper. I refused, and then he threatened me."

"And what happened after that?"

"He put his hand in my pocket and brought out a diamond ring. He said I had stolen it."

"Of course you hadn't, Nat?"

"I had never seen the ring before. But that wasn't the worst of it. He picked up a sea shell and hit me with it and knocked me senseless."

After that our hero told his story in detail, relating also what Rufus Cameron had said on assisting him to the street car. The real estate broker listened with keen interest.

"That man is a scoundrel!" he exclaimed, when Nat had concluded his story. "I pity Mrs. Parloe. He is doing his best to get all her money from her."

"It was a mean trick to say I took the ring," declared Nat.

"He did that thinking to get you in his power, my boy. Are you sure he didn't look at the document?"

"I can't say what he did while I was senseless, Mr. Garwell."

"I'll take a look at the paper and see if he made any alterations in the text."

John Garwell looked at the document and began to read it.

"Why, this is not the paper I gave you, Nat," he ejaculated.

"Not the same?"

"No. It's some old thing that I know nothing about."

"If that's the case, Mr. Cameron substituted this paper for the real one!" exclaimed our hero. "He could easily have done that during the time I was knocked out."

"I'll see about this without delay," said John Garwell, decisively. "I will show that fellow that he can't carry matters with quite such a high hand."

"What can he do with that paper, Mr. Garwell?"

"He can cause me a great deal of trouble. The paper refers to a piece of property in which Mrs. Parloe held an interest. I have been trying to get a free and clear title to the land for a client of mine, and another real estate dealer named Andrew Shanley has been trying to get the land for another party. It is a mixed-up affair, but I hoped the signing of that paper would help to straighten out matters."

The real estate broker was as good as his word, but he was exceedingly busy, and it was not until two in the afternoon that he could get away. Then he went to Brooklyn, taking Nat with him.

"I would like to see Mr. Cameron," said he to the girl at Mrs. Parloe's home.

"Mr. Cameron has gone away, sir," was the unexpected answer.

"Do you know when he will be back?"

"I'll ask Mrs. Parloe," said the girl.

She went upstairs, leaving them in the parlor below. Soon she came back.

"He has gone out west, Mrs. Parloe says, and she doesn't expect him back for two or three months."

"Gone west," cried Nat. "When did he go?"

"He went away about noon."

"Did he take any baggage?" asked John Garwell.

"Yes, sir, a dress-suit case, and he sent an expressman around for his trunk, too."

"Then I won't bother you any more," said the real estate broker, and left the house, followed by Nat.

"Don't you want to ask Mrs. Parloe about this?" queried our hero.

"It would be useless to do so, Nat. It would only upset the old lady."

"She might be able to tell us just where her nephew had gone to?"

"It is not likely. He intends to keep out of the way, that is certain."

"Maybe he didn't go west at all!" said our hero, suddenly.

"Such a thing is possible."

"Did you say he was in league with this other real estate broker?"

"I don't know about that, although I know he and this Shanley are friends."

"I wonder if it wouldn't be a good idea for me to watch around this Shanley's office for him?"

"Ha! That is an idea." John Garwell smiled broadly. "Nat, you are growing clever."

"Even if I couldn't get the paper, I could prove that he had not gone west, as he told his aunt, and I could follow him, and find out where he was stopping."

"Well, you can do the watching if you wish. I will give you Andrew V. Shanley's address. His place of business is between here and the Bridge."

"Shall I go there at once?"

"If you wish."

The address was written on a slip of paper, and a little later Nat and his employer separated. John Garwell gazed after our hero curiously.

"He is improving wonderfully," he mused. "He isn't half as green as when I first met him."

Nat had been told what car to take, and ten minutes sufficed to bring him to the block upon which Andrew Shanley's office was located, on the third floor of a large