"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."