eave me alone now, Fred; I want to read these very carefully."

"Huh! I'm going to stay in the garret as long as I please."

Nat said no more, and Fred began to kick the step upon which he was
sitting. Then, he began to thump on the rafters of the garret, bringing
down some dirt on Nat's head.

"Stop that, Fred!" cried our hero, sharply. "Stop it, I say!"

"I ain't goin' to stop."

"If you don't stop, I'll put you downstairs, first thing you know."

"You can't do it."

"Yes, I can."

"Do you want to fight?" demanded Fred, rising and squaring off.

"No, but I want you to leave me alone."

"I ain't touched you."

"No, but you were knocking the dirt down on me. Why can't you leave me
alone?"

"I've got as much right in this garret as you have, that's why."

"You are mean."

"Don't you call me mean!" blustered Fred, and coming closer, he hit Nat
on the shoulder. At once our hero hit back, and Fred received a thump
in the mouth that caused him to topple backwards.

"Don't!" he screamed. "Don't--don't hit me again."

"Now, are you going to leave me alone?" demanded Nat.

"I'll tell my ma on you."

"If you do, I shall tell her how you annoyed me," answered Nat.

"Come down in the barnyard and I'll fight with you," said Fred, but, as
he spoke, he retreated down the stairs.

"Don't be a fool, Fred. Behave yourself, and we'll get along all right,"
said Nat, and then Fred passed to the lower floor, banging the stairway
door after him. There was a hook on the door, and this he fastened after
him.

"Now, Nat can stay in the garret till I let him out," he muttered to
himself.

When left to himself, Nat dragged the old trunk to one of the windows of
the garret, and then began a systematic investigation of all the papers
the box contained. He soon learned that the majority of the documents
were of no importance, but there were half a dozen which looked of
possible value, and these he placed in his pocket. Two of the sheets
referred directly to the land in New York City.

"I hope these are what Mr. Garwell is looking for," he said to himself.

Having put the trunk back where it belonged, Nat started to go below,
only to find the door hooked fast from the other side.

"Fred!" he called out loudly. "Fred, open the door!"

"Ha! ha! Nat Nason, how do you like being a prisoner?" came from Fred,
who had been resting on a bed in a nearby room.

"I want you to open the door."

"What will you give me if I do?"