"You ought to let him know that you are well, and have a position. You need 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 in Brooklyn. His father and his grandfather were both born in New York."
"I see. Then you have city blood in your veins. That may account for your liking New York so much."
In a short time after the conversation came to an end, Trenton was reached, and calling a cab, Mr. Garwell had himself and Nat driven to one of the public buildings.
Here both spent some time in looking over legal records, and one of the records Nat had to copy off in pencil for his employer. After this, came a 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 to wait before they could get a train for home.
"Let us go and get a lunch," said Mr. Garwell, and led the way to a fine restaurant in that vicinity.
The real estate broker was on the point of entering the eating place when a child of five ran up to him, exclaiming: