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

  CHAPTER XVII

  A CASE OF MISTAKEN IDENTITY

  On the day that Abner Balberry started for New York to look for Nat, ourhero was called into Mr. Garwell's private office.

  "Nat, how would you like to take a run down to Trenton with me?" askedthe gentleman, pleasantly.

  "I'd like it first-rate, Mr. Garwell," was the prompt answer.

  "Very well, we'll go in half an hour. I wish to look up certain recordsconcerning some property."

  "When will we be back, Mr. Garwell?"

  "Oh, some time this evening," answered the gentleman.

  It may be mentioned here that John Garwell was a real estate broker. Hehandled only high-class properties, and chiefly those used for businesspurposes. He had started years before in a modest way, but was nowfairly well-to-do, and his business was steadily increasing. He hadtaken a great fancy to Nat, and was wondering if he could not use thelad as a private secretary.

  "I'd do it in a minute if the boy knew shorthand and typewriting," hetold himself. "Perhaps I can get him to learn those branches."

  At the appointed time our hero was ready for the trip to Trenton. Hisemployer had stuffed a valise full of legal papers, and Nat tookpossession of the bag.

  "Be careful of that valise," cautioned Mr. Garwell. "The contents arevery valuable."

  "I'll look out for it," was the answer.

  They walked to the ferry, and there took a boat to Jersey City, and thenboarded a train bound for the capital city of New Jersey. Mr. Garwellhad obtained seats in a parlor car, and the elegant furnishingsimpressed Nat deeply.

  "These cars are like palaces," he said.

  "They are certainly comfortable," was his employer's response.

  On the trip to Trenton Mr. Garwell asked Nat much about himself, and atlast the boy told his tale from beginning to end.

  "I don't suppose you care to go back to the farm," said Mr. Garwell,with a quiet smile.

  "No, sir, I want to stay in New York. I believe there is more of afuture here for me than on the farm."

  "Possibly that is true. You had positively nothing to do with that fireat your uncle's barn?"

  "No, sir--I didn't even have a light around the place."

  "But you saw somebody near by."

  "Yes, sir. I thought it was my uncle."

  "It must have been a tramp."

  "Just what I think, Mr. Garwell."

  "And you think your uncle is coming to New York to look for you?"

  "He'll come, if the carfare doesn't scare him off. He is a very closeman."

  "Hum!" The real estate broker mused for a moment. "Well, if he comes,supposing you let me know? Maybe I can persuade him to allow you toremain in the city."

  At this Nat's face brightened.

  "Oh, Mr. Garwell, will you do that? I suppose, as my guardian, he has alegal right to order me back to the farm."

  "We'll have to see about that. But he hasn't found you yet."

  "That is true."

  "You ought to let him know that you are well, and have a position. Youneed not give him your address."

  "I'll write the letter to-morrow."

  "Was your father a farmer?"

  "Yes, sir, although when he was a young fellow like myself he lived inBrooklyn. His father and his grandfather were both born in New York."

  "I see. Then you have city blood in your veins. That may account foryour liking New York so much."

  In a short time after the conversation came to an end, Trenton wasreached, and calling a cab, Mr. Garwell had himself and Nat driven toone of the public buildings.

  Here both spent some time in looking over legal records, and one of therecords Nat had to copy off in pencil for his employer. After this, camea visit to a lawyer's office, and Nat was sent on a short errand.

  When the business in Trenton was over, both found they had two hours towait before they could get a train for home.

  "Let us go and get a lunch," said Mr. Garwell, and led the way to a finerestaurant in that vicinity.

  The real estate broker was on the point of entering the eating placewhen a child of five ran up to him, exclaiming:

  "Papa, I want you to buy me some candy, please."

  Now, as it happened, Mr. Garwell was a bachelor, so he was taken much bysurprise, and so was our hero.

  "Did you speak to me, my dear?" he asked, kindly.

  "Why, yes, papa," answered the little one, readily.

  "But I am not your father, child," and the real estate broker began toflush up.

  "Oh, yes, you are!" came from the child.

  "No. What is your name?"

  At this the child laughed heartily.

  "What a funny papa you are, to ask me my name. But won't you buy me thecandy? Please, do," went on the little one, pleadingly.

  "What a funny mistake," said Mr. Garwell to Nat.

  "Don't you know the little girl?"

  "Not in the least."

  "Get the candy!" cried the child, petulantly.

  "All right, I'll get you some candy, only don't call me papa," answeredthe real estate broker. And he slipped into a candy shop, and purchasedsome chocolates. He had just passed the confectionery over, when amiddle-aged lady hurried up.

  "Oh, mamma, see the candy papa bought me!" cried the little girl,gleefully.

  "You shouldn't have bought her so much candy, Horace," said the lady toMr. Garwell, severely. "Chocolates make Lulu sick."

  Being thus addressed, John Garwell turned redder than ever.

  "Excuse me, madam," he stammered. "I--er--this is a mistake. My name isnot Horace."

  "Not Horace. The idea!"

  "My name is John--John Garwell, and I am from New York."

  At this answer the lady looked perplexed, and then indignant.

  "Horace, quit your fooling!" she said, coldly.

  "I am not fooling, madam."

  "Oh, such a man! Perhaps you'll say next that I am not your wife!"continued the lady, with a black look.

  "You certainly are not my wife, for I am a bachelor, madam," and now Mr.Garwell began to grow more embarrassed than ever, while Nat wascompletely mystified.

  "Not my husband? Oh, you wretch, to say such a thing!" The lady turnedto the child. "Lulu, who is this?"

  "Why, that's papa," answered the little girl, promptly.

  "Now, Horace, do you hear that?"

  "I--I heard what she said," answered the real estate broker, feebly."But--but----"

  "If you are not her father, why did you buy her candy?"

  "Just to keep her from calling me papa."

  "Indeed! Did you want to bribe her? Oh, Horace, this is infamous!I--I--have you lost your mind?"

  "No, but I think you and this child have."

  At this the lady stared, and gave a gasp. She fainted, and would havefallen to the pavement had not Nat caught and supported her. Instantly acrowd began to collect.

  "What's the trouble here?" asked one.

  "The gentleman's wife has fainted," answered another.

  "Excuse me, but she is not my wife," said John Garwell. "I don't knowher."

  "Certainly, she is your wife," cried a bystander. "I've seen youtogether lots of times, Mr. Mann."

  "Wait," put in Nat. "Did you call this gentleman Mr. Mann?"

  "Yes, and that's his name."

  "You are mistaken. This gentleman is Mr. John Garwell."

  "Go on with you, I know Mr. Mann too well to believe such a yarn."

  "I don't care what you say, this gentleman is Mr. John Garwell, and heis from New York City."

  "Then he has been playing a part here in Trenton, where he is known asHorace Q. Mann," said the bystander.

  By this time the lady was coming to her senses. She clutched at the realestate broker.

  "Take me home!" she murmured. "Oh, this is too much!"

  "Better take her home," said several.

  "I don't even know where she lives," answered John Garwell, blankly.

  "She lives at 19 Hallock Street," said a
boy in the crowd. "I'll showyou the place, mister."

  "Why not take her and the little girl home?" suggested Nat. "Perhaps youcan clear up this mystery there?"

  "All right, I will," answered his employer. "Nat, call a coach. I'mgoing to see this affair through. It's the oddest thing I ever hadhappen to me."

  The coach was called, and the lady and the girl got in, and John Garwelland Nat followed.

  "I knew you were coming home to-day from that trip to Washington," saidthe lady, with a tearful look in her face, "but I never dreamed youwould act this way, Horace."

  "Madam, will you answer me one question. Have you a husband who went toWashington?"

  "Oh, Horace!"

  Seeing he could make no headway, Mr. Garwell became silent. Inside often minutes they reached 19 Hallock Street, and the coach came to ahalt. A servant let them into the mansion. As she did this she stared atthe real estate broker and gave a low cry of surprise.

  "Why, I--er--I thought Mr. Mann was in the library!" she stammered. "Ididn't know he went out to meet you, Mrs. Mann."

  "Let us go to the library," said John Garwell.

  The lady of the house was willing, and hurried hither, followed by herdaughter, the real estate broker, and Nat. As they entered, a gentlemanwho had been seated in an arm-chair, reading a book, arose to meet them.

  "Well, Clara, I'm back," he said, cheerily.

  "Oh!" screamed the lady, and fainted again, and not without good reason,for before her stood a gentleman who was almost the exact facsimile ofMr. Garwell in face, form, and general appearance.

  "Why, which one of you is my papa?" cried little Lulu.

  "I'm your papa!" answered the gentleman of the house. "Why--er--who--whois this?" he stammered, looking at John Garwell.

  "Let us attend to your wife first," was the answer, and soon the lady ofthe house was restored to her senses. Then began a series ofexplanations.

  "It was dreadful of me to make such a mistake," said Mrs. Mann,hysterically. "But--but----"

  "I don't wonder at it--now," answered John Garwell. "Your husband couldpass for my twin brother."

  "I can hardly tell one from the other, myself," said Nat.

  "Never mind; he bought me some candy," put in little Lulu, and this madeall laugh.

  "I am going to ask you to do something," said John Garwell, to HoraceMann. "I think you owe it to me to walk down town, so that your fellowcitizens can see that there are really two of us."

  "Yes, Horace," pleaded his wife. "I made a lot of trouble for Mr.Garwell."

  Horace Mann agreed readily, and soon he and the real estate broker andNat left the residence. On the main streets of Trenton many stopped tostare after them. Among the number was the man who had spoken to Mr.Garwell, and insisted that the real estate broker was Mr. Mann.

  "I apologize," said the man, promptly. "But I reckon you'll admit theresemblance is simply wonderful."

  "I do admit it," was the answer. "Still, that doesn't make me anybodybut myself."

  Horace Mann insisted upon taking John Garwell and Nat to dinner, andtreated them to the best the restaurant afforded.

  "After this I'm going to wear a badge, so my wife will know me," saidthe Trenton man. "And I'll never dare to come to New York, for fear ofbeing taken for you."