"Live with your uncle now, don't you?" "I have been living with him, yes. Good-day, and much obliged," returned the boy, and to avoid being questioned further he left the yard at once, followed by Sam. "You made a good bargain on the cow," said Sam. "I reckon you got every cent she was worth." "She was a good cow, Sam. I'm rather sorry to part with her. She was almost like a friend." "What are you going to do next?" "Strike out for the city." "I wish you luck." "You won't tell my uncle?" "Not a word. But, say." "Well?" "When you get to the city write and tell me how you like it." "I will, Sam, and you must tell me the news from home, and how my uncle gets along without me." So it was arranged; and a few minutes later the two lads separated, and Sam Price started for home. Brookville was on a small branch railroad running to Cleveland, and by consulting a time-table Nat learned that a train for Cleveland would leave in ten minutes. He lost no time in purchasing a ticket, and spent the rest of the time in eating some of the lunch he had brought along. With over twenty-three dollars still in his pocket he felt rich, and bought some peanuts and a cake of sweet chocolate. When the train came along there were scarcely any passengers aboard, so he had little difficulty in getting the seat he wanted. He sat down by a window, with his bundle beside him, and gave himself up to thinking and to looking at the scenery as it whirled past. Nat had traveled but little on the cars, so the ride to Cleveland was intensely enjoyable. The different places passed were so interesting that he soon forgot to think about his prospects, or of what he was to do when he arrived at the city on the lake. "Next stop is Cleveland!" cried the conductor, standing at the open doorway. "All change, for trains east and west!" A moment later the train rolled into the smoky station, and bundle in hand, Nat left the car and stepped onto the platform. From there he walked to the street, where he gazed in some bewilderment at the crowds of people and the swiftly moving street cars. "Paper!" cried a newsboy. "Morning paper?" "No, I don't want any paper," answered Nat. "All about the big fire in Chicago, boss. Take a paper?" "Yes, I'll take one," said Nat, and passed over the necessary change. Off darted the newsboy, to be lost in the crowd on the other side of the street. Nat gazed at the paper, to find that a tenement had burned out in Chicago, with the loss of one life. "That's not such a terrible thing--for a big city like Chicago," he mused, and then noticed that the newspaper was two days old. "That boy stuck me!" he muttered, and a cloud crossed his face. "I wonder where he is?" The boy could not be found, and in a moment Nat concluded it would be a waste of time to look for him. "He caught me for a greeny, true enough," he thought. "I've got to keep my eyes open after this."