n 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."

"But, say, honest, I--I didn't mean to set the shebang afire--not on my
life, I didn't."

"You were smoking, and fell asleep."

"Thet's the honest truth o' the matter, my young friend. I'm a tramp,
an' down on my luck, but I ain't no barn burner, not me!"

"Well, you had better come with me," said Nat, decidedly.

"What are yer goin' to do?"

"I want a witness to what you just said."

"Goin' to have me--me locked up?"

"No, it's not worth it. I only want to prove to my uncle that I am not
guilty, that's all."

The tramp followed Nat down into the street and then over to John
Garwell's office.

"Why, what does this mean, Nat?" demanded his employer, in astonishment,
for visits from tramps were unusual.

Our hero lost no time in telling his story.

"I want my uncle Abner to know that I am innocent, that's all," he
continued. "It won't do any good to hold this chap, for the barn wasn't
hurt much, anyway."

"I'll settle this," said Mr. Garwell, and called in a stenographer, who
took down what the tramp had to say. Then the confession was
typewritten, and Tom Nolan signed it, and John Garwell added his
signature as a witness.

"There, Nat, that is all right now," said the real estate broker. "You
can send that to your uncle when you please, and we can keep a copy."

"This is all I want," said our hero to the tramp. "You may go now."

"Don't want no more o' me?" asked Tom Nolan.

"Nothing whatever."

"Say, ain't this confession good fer a quarter?"

"I'll give you a quarter if you'll promise not to spend it for drink."

"I'll promise," said the tramp, and Nat handed him twenty-five cents.
Tom Nolan thanked him, and shuffled off; and that was the last our hero
saw or heard of him.

"I'm sorry I lost so much time," said Nat to his employer. "But I wanted
to square myself with Uncle Abner if I could."

"I don't blame you, Nat. I have no doubt it is a great worry off your
mind."

"It is. Now, Uncle Abner will know I told him the plain truth."

That night Nat wrote Abner Balberry a long letter, telling of his
meeting with the tramp. He enclosed the signed confession, and he had
the le