From Farm to Fortune; or, Nat Nason's Strange Experience, Jr. Horatio Alger [classic english novels txt] 📗

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