"Yes. I had some bank bills, but I lost them. Twenty-two cents is all I've got, but I wasn't going to commit suicide on that account."
The fashionably dressed young man gave a shiver.
"Don't mention it," he whispered. "I must have been clean crazy for the minute. Let us go away from the river and the falls."
"I'm willing," answered Nat, and walked from the islands to the shore park. Here they seated themselves on a bench, some distance away from the water.
"What is your name, if I may ask?"
"Nat Nason. What's yours?"
"Paul Hampton. So you've only got twenty-two cents to your name? Well, you are worse off than I am, after all. I've got money a-plenty."
"What made you dream of doing such a thing?" asked Nat, curiously.
"Would you like to hear my story? Well, it won't do any harm to tell it to you, an utter stranger, and it will relieve my mind. Maybe you can give me some advice."
"If I can I certainly will," answered Nat, promptly.