miled broadly.

"Don't raise false hopes, Nat. There may be nothing in it. But there is
nothing like being sure."

"Is the tract of land valuable?"

"Very. It is located in the most fashionable territory around Central
Park."

"When do you want me to go home?"

"You can start to-morrow if you wish. There is no rush of business on
just at present. I presume you will be back within four or five days?"

"I'll come back as soon as possible."

"Take your time. A couple of days on the farm will do you good. It will
be like a touch of old times."

"That is true," answered Nat.

The opportunity to go back to the farm pleased him. He packed his
dress-suit case that night, and left on the ten-o'clock train in the
morning. He was dressed in his best and had quite a city air about him.
Certainly he could no longer be called a "greeny."

Nat spent the night at Cleveland, and took the train to Brookville in
the morning. Almost the first person he met in the town was Sam Price.

"Hullo, are you back?" cried the country boy, shaking hands.

"Back for a few days, Sam."

"You look fine, Nat."

"I feel fine. How are you getting along?"

"Pretty good. Life on the farm is rather slow. Somebody told me you were
tired of the city."

"It isn't true, Sam."

"Fred Guff says he wants to go to the city, too, but his mother won't
let him."

"I suppose Fred helps my uncle Abner?"

"Yes, but your uncle don't get along with him very well. Fred's too slow
for him."

Sam had driven to town with his buckboard, and he readily agreed to give
Nat a ride over to Abner Balberry's farm. They were soon on the way, and
less than an hour brought them in sight of the place.

"Some young man is coming, ma!" cried Fred, who was sitting on the
doorstep, munching an apple. "Sam Price is driving him."

"Wonder what he wants here?" said Mrs. Balberry, shading her eyes with
her hands. "Mercy sakes! It's Nat!"

"Nat!" repeated the boy. "Huh! if it's him I guess he's sick of the
city. I thought he wouldn't make a go of it."

"Don't you be too sure of that," said the mother, shortly. "Nat has more
ginger in him than you have."

By this time Nat was at the horseblock. He leaped off the buckboard,
and advanced to greet Mrs. Balberry and her son.

"How do you do?" he cried, cheerily. "Aren't you surprised to see me?"

"I certainly am," answered Mrs. Balberry, as she shook hands.

"Got tired of the city, eh?" came from Fred. "I knew it would