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

"Yes. I had some bank bills, but I lost them. Twenty-two cents is all I've got, but I wasn't going to commit suicide on that account."

The fashionably dressed young man gave a shiver.

"Don't mention it," he whispered. "I must have been clean crazy for the minute. Let us go away from the river and the falls."

"I'm willing," answered Nat, and walked from the islands to the shore park. Here they seated themselves on a bench, some distance away from the water.

"What is your name, if I may ask?"

"Nat Nason. What's yours?"

"Paul Hampton. So you've only got twenty-two cents to your name? Well, you are worse off than I am, after all. I've got money a-plenty."

"What made you dream of doing such a thing?" asked Nat, curiously.

"Would you like to hear my story? Well, it won't do any harm to tell it to you, an utter stranger, and it will relieve my mind. Maybe you can give me some advice."

"If I can I certainly will," answered Nat, promptly.

"Well, to start with," began Paul Hampton, "I am a graduate of Yale University, and a lawyer by profession. I suppose you don't think I look much like a lawyer."

"I don't know much about lawyers," answered Nat, cautiously.

"I practice in Niagara Falls, and also in Buffalo. I have not paid as much attention to the profession in the past as I intend to pay in the future."

"Maybe you don't need the money."

"That is one reason. But there is another, Nat. I fell desperately in love. The fever is at an end now. You drove it out of me, when you stopped me from jumping into the rapids."

Paul Hampton paused long enough to light a cigar. Then he leaned back, and blew a cloud of smoke into the air.

"I was a big fool. I can realize it now," he went on. "I should have passed Grace by long ago."

"Was that the name of the girl?"

"Yes. Her father is well-to-do, and gives her everything her heart desires. Consequently, she has been leading me around like a puppy dog tied to a string."

"I see. That is not very pleasant."

"I thought I loved her, but I fancy now that I was too good for her," continued the fashionably dressed young man. "But let me tell you the whole story.

"I called on Grace for over a month, and finally told her that I loved her. She said she thought her father would never consent to our marriage. Then I asked her if she was willing to elope with me.

"I believe that angered her, but she didn't show it. She said she would think it over, and the next day sent a note saying she would be ready any time I fixed. Oh, what a fool I was to believe her!"

"And she wouldn't elope?" asked Nat.

"It was arranged that she should be in readiness the next morning at four o'clock, and that I should procure a carriage and call for her. We would drive to a minister in the next town, and be married, and then ask her father's forgiveness."

"And she backed out?"

"The morning dawned dark and misty. I had obtained from a livery stable the night before a carriage with a span of horses. At half-past three I drove within a few yards of the house, when, according to agreement, I saw a white handkerchief waving from a window.

"Very soon Grace made her appearance at the door. She was heavily cloaked and veiled, and refused to speak while I hurried her into the carriage. Off we went at a trot towards the next town. We drew up at the door of the leading minister of the place, and I tried to assist my companion to alight from the carriage, when she fell and hurt her ankle on the curb."

"Well, that was too bad," said Nat, sympathetically.

"I asked her if she was hurt, when to my amazement she broke out into a rich Irish brogue: 'It's almost kilt I am!' said she."

"Was she Irish?"

"Irish? No! It was not Grace at all, but her cook. She had put up a cruel joke on me. And that wasn't the worst of it. Grace had told Biddy that I was in love with her, and the ignorant cook believed it."

"And what did you do then?"

"What could I do? I told Biddy it was a trick, and I had to give her ten dollars to keep from making a complaint to the police. Wasn't it dreadful?"

"Yes, it was, but if I were you, Mr. Hampton, I'd consider myself lucky to get rid of such a girl. Supposing she had married you? You would most likely be miserable all your life with her."

At these words, Paul Hampton stared at Nat.

"You are right," he answered, presently. "I was a big fool. After this I shall drop her entirely and stick to my law business."

"Perhaps some day she'll be sorry she treated you so unfairly—when she sees how you are rising in your profession."

"Hope she does. But I don't want any more to do with her," went on Paul Hampton, decidedly. "Let us talk about something else," he added, after a pause. "Did you tell me you were worth only twenty-two cents?"

"I did."

"Do your folks live around here?"

"My parents are dead."

"Oh! Well, I want to reward you for what you did for me."

"I don't ask any reward."

"Nevertheless, you must accept something," answered the fashionably dressed young man.

CHAPTER VIII

A FRESH START IN LIFE

Nat and his newly-found friend sat in the Niagara Falls Park until nearly one o'clock, talking their affairs over. Then Paul Hampton asked the boy to go with him for dinner.

"I want to prove to you that I am not as crazy as I seemed," said the young man. "That was a sudden fit, that's all."

"Well, take my advice and don't get any more such fits," answered our hero.