"Uncle Abner must have married the widow," thought Nat. "More than likely they are on their wedding tour. Wonder what that other fellow wants of uncle?"
Nat's first inclination was to leave the spot, so that his relative might not discover him. But he did not like the looks of the stranger, and so drew closer, to learn, if possible, what the interview meant.
The man had just come past Abner and his wife, and had pretended to pick up a pocketbook.
"Say, did you drop your pocketbook?" he asked, of Abner.
"I—I guess not!" stammered the farmer, and felt to make certain that his own wallet was safe.
"Queer, who did drop this," went on the stranger. "Pretty well filled, too," he added, opening the pocketbook and looking into it.
"Did you jest pick it up?" queried Abner, falling into the trap.
"Sure, right down there. Say, this is a find, ain't it?" and the man smiled broadly.
"That's what it is," said the farmer.
"I wish I could find a pocketbook," sighed Mrs. Balberry.