tter registered, so that it might not get lost in the mails. A few
days later came a reply, in which Nat's uncle said he remembered seeing
the tramp around on the day of the fire, and stating that he was very
sorry that he had ever thought his nephew guilty.

Nat's work frequently took him out of town, and on one occasion he had
to go to Albany, a trip which he enjoyed thoroughly, as it gave him a
chance to visit the State Capitol.

"Nat," said John Garwell one day, "didn't you once tell me, that your
father and grandfather had come from New York and Brooklyn?"

"Yes, sir."

"Was your grandfather ever interested in some property around Central
Park?"

"I don't know but what he was. But he got rid of his belongings, so I
was told, when he moved away."

"Did you ever see any of the papers?"

"Yes, sir, some years ago. They were in a trunk up in my uncle Abner's
garret."

"What was your grandfather's full name?"

"Chester Stout Nason. His mother was a Stout."

"And your father's full name?"

"William Henry Nason."

"Did he have any brothers?"

"No, sir--only a sister, who was Uncle Abner's first wife."

"I see. Are those papers still in the trunk you just mentioned?"

"They ought to be. They were packed away with some old account
books--bad debts, I once heard father call them. Father had an idea he
could collect some of the debts some day. But I guess they are
outlawed."

"More than likely. I'd like to see those papers regarding that land near
Central Park."

"Why, Mr. Garwell? Do you think there is anything in it for me?" cried
our hero, quickly.

"I'm not prepared to say that until I see the papers. I am looking up
six parcels of land, which a certain company want for the purpose of
putting up a big hotel. Some of the old deeds mention a Chester S. Nason
as holding a half-interest in one of the plots of ground--the interest
being assigned to him in payment of a claim he had on one Maurice LeRoy.
Did you ever hear of such a man?"

"No, sir."

"Well, supposing you get those papers for me, and let me examine them."

"Shall I send to Uncle Abner for them?"

"I think it might be better for you to go home and sort out the papers
yourself. I'll explain just what I am after. Besides, if the papers are
valuable, you had better not trust them to the mails. I'll pay your
railroad fares."

"All right, I'll go home for them whenever you say, Mr. Garwell. I hope
the papers do prove valuable," and Nat s