"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.