"I don't blame you. I got tired of the farm myself when I was about your age, and came here with less than a hundred dollars in my pocket."
"Well, I came with just a little more than that," answered Nat, innocently.
"Indeed! Then you are better off than I was. But I shan't complain, for I have made money right along. But what do you think I am worth now?"
"I don't know, I am sure—five or ten thousand dollars maybe."
"Nearly fifty thousand dollars," and Hamilton Dart looked at Nat, coolly and innocently.
"Fifty thousand!" cried the boy. "You've certainly been lucky. I wish I could make that much."
"You have the same opportunities that I had. Let me see, what did you say your name was?"
"I didn't say. It is Nat Nason."
"I am glad to know you. You have a bright and honest face, and faces count a good deal with me."
This was gratifying to Nat, and he could not help but think that Mr. Dart was a pleasant gentleman with whom to deal.