Luke Walton

  "That is true, Luke; but I don't know whether that will help me. Istopped at two places after leaving Gusset & Co.'s, and was told thattheir list was full."

  "Well, mother, don't let us think of it to-night! To morrow we can tryagain."

  Luke's cheerfulness had its effect on his mother, and the evening waspassed socially.

  The next morning Luke went out to work at the usual time. He had allhis papers sold out by half-past ten o'clock, and walked over to StateStreet, partly to fill up the time, arid partly in search of somestray job. He was standing in front of the Bee Hive, a well-knowndrygoods store on State Street, when his attention was called to anold lady, who, in attempting to cross the street, had imprudentlyplaced herself just in the track of a rapidly advancing cable car.Becoming sensible of her danger, the old lady uttered a terrified cry,but was too panic-stricken to move.

  On came the car, with gong sounding out its alarm, and a cry of horrorwent up from the bystanders.

  Luke alone seemed to have his wits about him.

  He saw that there was not a moment to lose, and, gathering up hisstrength, dashed to the old lady's assistance.

  CHAPTER XI

  A HOUSE ON PRAIRIE AVENUE

  The old lady had just become conscious of her peril when Luke reachedher. She was too bewildered to move, and would inevitably have beencrushed by the approaching car had not Luke seized her by the arm andfairly dragged her out of danger.

  Then, as the car passed on, he took off his hat, and said,apologetically: "I hope you will excuse my roughness, madam, but Icould see no other way of saving you."

  "Please lead me to the sidewalk," gasped the old lady. Luke compliedwith her request.

  "I am deeply thankful to you, my boy," she said, as soon as she foundvoice. "I can see that I was in great danger. I was busily thinking,or I should not have been so careless."

  "I am glad that I was able to help you," responded Luke, as heprepared to leave his new acquaintance.

  "Don't leave me!" said the old lady. "My nerves are so upset that Idon't like being left alone."

  "I am quite at your service, madam," replied Luke, politely. "Shall Iput you on board the cars?"

  "No, call a carriage, please."

  This was easily done, for they were in front of the Palmer House,where a line of cabs may be found. Luke called one, and assisted theold lady inside.

  "Where shall I tell the driver to take you?" he asked.

  The old lady named a number on Prairie Avenue, which contains some ofthe finest residences in Chicago.

  "Can I do anything more for you?" asked our hero.

  "Yes," was the unexpected reply. "Get in yourself, if you can sparethe time."

  "Certainly," assented Luke.

  He took his seat beside the old lady.

  "I hope you have recovered from your fright," he said, politely.

  "Yes, I begin to feel myself again. Probably you wonder why I haveasked you to accompany me?"

  "Probably because you may need my services," suggested Luke.

  "Not altogether. I shudder as I think of the danger from which yourescued me, but I have another object in view."

  Luke waited for her to explain.

  "I want to become better acquainted with you."

  "Thank you, madam."

  "I fully recognize that you have done me a great service. Now, if Iask you a fair question about yourself, you won't think it an oldwoman's curiosity?"

  "I hope I should not be so ill-bred, madam."

  "Really, you are a very nice boy."

  "Now, tell me where you live?"

  "On Green Street."

  "Where is that?"

  "Only a stone's throw from Milwaukee Avenue."

  "I don't think I was ever in that part of the city."

  "It is not a nice part of the city, but we cannot afford to live in abetter place."

  "You say 'we.' Does that mean your father and mother?"

  "My father is dead. Our family consists of my mother, my littlebrother, and myself."

  "And you are--excuse my saying so--poor?"

  "We are poor, but thus far we have not wanted for food or shelter."

  "I suppose you are employed in some way?"

  "Yes; I sell papers."

  "Then you are a newsboy?"

  "Yes, madam."

  "I suppose you cannot save very much?"

  "If I make seventy-five cents a day I consider myself quite lucky. Itis more than I average."

  "Surely you can't live on that--I mean the three of you?"

  "Mother earns something by making shirts; at least, she has done so;but yesterday she was told that she would not have any more work atpresent."

  "And your brother--he is too young to work, I suppose?"

  "Yes, madam."

  While this conversation was going en, the cab was making rapidprogress, and as the last words were spoken the driver reined up infront of a handsome residence.

  "Is this the place, madam?"

  The old lady looked out of the hack.

  "Yes," she answered. "I had no idea we had got along so far."

  Luke helped her out of the cab. She paid the man his fare, and thensigned Luke to help her up the steps.

  "I want you to come into the house with me," she said. "I have not gotthrough talking with you."

  A maidservant answered the bell. She looked surprised when she saw theold lady's young companion.

  "Is my niece in?" asked the old lady.

  "No, Mrs. Merton--Master Harold is in."

  "Never mind! You may come upstairs with me, young man."

  Luke followed the old lady up the broad, handsome staircase, stealinga curious glance at an elegantly-furnished drawing-room, the door ofwhich opened into the hall.

  His companion led the way into the front room on the second floor.

  "Remain here until I have taken off my things," she said.

  Luke seated himself in a luxurious armchair.

  He looked about him and wondered how it would seem to live in suchluxury. He had little time for thought, for in less than five minutesMrs. Merton made her appearance.

  "You have not yet told me your name," she said.

  "Luke Walton."

  "That's a good name--I am Mrs. Merton."

  "I noticed that the servant called you so," said Luke.

  "Yes; I am a widow. My married niece lives here with me. She is also awidow, with one son, Harold. I think he might be about your age. Hername is Tracy. You wonder why I give you all these particulars? I seeyou do. It is because I mean to keep up our acquaintance."

  "Thank you, Mrs. Merton."

  "My experience this morning has shown me that I am hardly fit to goabout the city alone. Yet I am not willing to remain at home. It hasoccurred to me that I can make use of your services with advantageboth to you and myself. What do you say?"

  "I shall be glad of anything that will increase my income," said Luke,promptly.

  "Please call here to-morrow morning, and inquire for me. I will thentell you what I require."

  "Very well, Mrs. Merton. You may depend upon me."

  "And accept a week's pay in advance."

  She put a sealed envelope into his hand. Luke took it, and, with abow, left the room.

  CHAPTER XII

  A PLOT THAT FAILED

  As the distance was considerable to the business part of the city,Luke boarded a car and rode downtown. It did not occur to him to openthe envelope till he was half way to the end of his journey.

  When he did so, he was agreeably surprised. The envelope contained aten-dollar bill.

  "Ten dollars! Hasn't Mrs. Merton made a mistake?" he said to himself."She said it was a week's pay. But, of course, she wouldn't pay tendollars for the little I am to do."

  Luke decided that the extra sum was given him on account of theservice he had already been fortunate enough to render the old lady.

  Next to him sat rather a showily dressed woman, with keen, sharp eyes.She took notice of t
he bank-note which Luke drew from the envelope,and prepared to take advantage of the knowledge.

  No sooner had Luke replaced the envelope in his pocket than this womanput her hand in hers, and, after a pretended search, exclaimed, in aloud voice: "There is a pickpocket in this car. I have been robbed!"

  Of course, this statement aroused the attention of all thepassengers.

  "What have you lost, madam?" inquired an old gentleman.

  "A ten-dollar bill," answered the woman.

  "Was it in your pocketbook?"

  "No," she replied, glibly. "It was in an envelope. It was handed to meby my sister just before I left home."

  As soon as Luke heard this declaration, he understood that the womanhad laid a trap for him, and he realized his imprudence in displayingthe money. Naturally he looked excited and disturbed. He saw that inall probability the woman's word would be taken in preference to his.He might be arrested, and find it difficult to prove his innocence.

  "Have you any suspicion as to who took it?" asked the old gentleman.

  "I think this boy took it," said the woman pointing to Luke.

  "It's terrible, and he so young!" said an old lady with a severe castof countenance, who sat next to the old gentleman. "What is the worldcoming to?"

  "What, indeed, ma'am?" echoed the old gentleman.

  Luke felt that it was time for him to say something.

  "This lady is quite mistaken," he declared, pale but resolute. "I'm nothief."

  "It can easily be proved," said the woman, with a cunning smile. "Letthe boy show the contents of his pockets."

  "Yes, that is only fair."

  Luke saw that his difficulties were increasing.

  "I admit that I have a ten-dollar bill in an envelope," he said.

  "I told you so!" said the woman, triumphantly.

  "But it is my own."

  "Graceless boy!" said the old gentleman, severely, "Do not addfalsehood to theft."

  "I am speaking the truth, sir."

  "How the boy brazens it out!" murmured the sour-visaged lady.

  "Return the lady her money, unless you wish to be arrested," said theold gentleman.

  "I don't intend to give this person"--Luke found it hard to saylady--"what she has no claim to."

  "Young man, you will find that you are making a grand mistake.Probably if you give up the money the lady will not prosecute you."

  "No, I will have pity upon his youth," said the woman.

  "I can tell exactly where I got the money," went on Luke,desperately.

  "Where did you get it?" asked the old maid, with a sarcastic smile.

  "From Mrs. Merton, of Prairie Avenue."

  "What did she give it to you for?"

  "I am in her employment."

  "Gentlemen," said the woman, shrugging her shoulders, "you can judgewhether this is a probable story."

  "I refer to Mrs. Merton herself," said Luke.

  "No doubt! You want to gain time. Boy, I am getting out of patience.Give me my money!"

  "I have no money of yours, madam," replied Luke, provoked; "and youknow that as well as I do."

  "So you are impertinent, as well as a thief," said the old gentleman."I have no more pity for you. Madam, if you will take my advice, youwill have the lying rascal arrested."

  "I would prefer that he should give up the money quietly."

  "I will take it upon myself to call a policeman when the car stops."

  "You do me great injustice, sir," said Luke. "Why do you judge soseverely of one whom you do not know?"

  "Because, young man, I have lived too long to be easily deceived. Ipride myself upon my judgment of faces, and I can see the guilt inyours."

  Luke looked about him earnestly.

  "Is there no one in this car who believes me innocent?" he asked.

  "No," said the old gentleman. "We all believe that this veryrespectable lady charges you justly."

  "I say amen to that," added the old maid, nodding sharply.

  Next to the old maid sat a man of about thirty-five, in a businesssuit, who, though he had said nothing, had listened attentively to thecharges and counter-charges. In him Luke was to find a powerful andeffective friend.

  "Speak for yourself, old gentleman," he said. "You certainly are oldenough to have learned a lesson of Christian charity."

  "Sir," exclaimed the old gentleman, in a lofty tone, "I don't requireany instruction from you."

  "Why do you think the boy a thief? Did you see him take the money?"

  "No, but its presence in his pocket is proof enough for me of hisguilt."

  "Of course it is!" said the old maid, triumphantly.

  The young man did not appear in the least disconcerted.

  "I have seldom encountered more uncharitable people," he said. "Youare ready to pronounce the boy guilty without any proof at all."

  "Don't it occur to you that you are insulting the lady who brings thecharge?" asked the old gentleman, sternly.

  The young man laughed.

  "The woman has brought a false charge," he said.

  "Really, this is outrageous!" cried the old maid. "If I were in herplace I would make you suffer for this calumny."

  "Probably I know her better than you do. I am a salesman in MarshallField's drygoods store, and this lady is a notorious shoplifter. Sheis varying her performances to-day. I have a great mind to call apoliceman. She deserves arrest."

  Had a bombshell exploded in the car, there would not have been agreater sensation. The woman rose without a word, and signaled to havethe car stopped.

  "Now, sir," went on the young man, sternly, "if you are a gentleman,you will apologize to this boy for your unworthy suspicions, and you,too, madam."

  The old maid tossed her head, but could not find a word to say, whilethe old gentleman looked the picture of mortification.

  "We are all liable to be mistaken!" he muttered, in a confused tone.

  "Then be a little more careful next time, both of you! My boy, Icongratulate you on your triumphant vindication."

  "Thank you, sir, for it. I should have stood a very poor chancewithout your help."

  The tide was turned, and the uncharitable pair found so manyunfriendly glances fixed upon them that they were glad to leave thecar at the next crossing.

  CHAPTER XIII

  TOM BROOKS IN TROUBLE

  "I begin to think I am the favorite of fortune," thought Luke. "Tendollars will more than pay a month's rent. Mother will feel easy nowabout her loss of employment."

  Some boys would have felt like taking a holiday for the balance of theday, perhaps, or going to a place of amusement, but Luke bought hisevening papers as usual. He had but half a dozen left when his newacquaintance, Stephen Webb, sauntered along.

  "How's business, Luke?" he asked.

  "Very fair, thank you."

  "Give me a _News._"

  Stephen passed over a penny in payment, but did not seem inclined togo away.

  "I meant to see you before," he said, "but my time got filled up."

  "Have you taken a situation, then?" asked Luke.

  "No, I am still a man of leisure. Why don't you hire a small store,and do a general periodical business? It would pay you better."

  "No doubt it would, but it would take money to open and stock such astore."

  "I may make a proposition to you some time to go in with me, Ifurnishing the capital, and you managing the business."

  "I am always open to a good offer," said Luke, smiling.

  "I suppose I ought to have some business, but I'm a social kind offellow, and should want a partner, a smart, enterprising, trustworthyperson like you."

  "Thank you for the compliment."

  "Never mind that! I am a judge of human nature, and I felt confidencein you at once."

  Somehow Luke was not altogether inclined to take Stephen Webb at hisown valuation. His new acquaintance did not impress him as a reliableman of business, but he had no suspicion of anything underhand.

  By this t
ime Luke had disposed of his remaining papers.

  "I am through for the day," he said, "and shall go home."

  "Do you walk or ride?"

  "I walk."

  "If you don't mind, I will walk along with you. I haven't taken muchexercise to-day."

  Luke had no reason for declining this proposal, and accepted Stephen'scompanionship. They walked on Clark Street to the bridge, and crossedthe river. Presently they reached Milwaukee Avenue."

  "Isn't the walk too long for you?" asked Luke.

  "Oh, no! I can walk any distance when I have company. I shall take acar back."

  Stephen accompanied the newsboy as far as his own door. He would liketo have been invited up, but Luke did not care to give him aninvitation. Though Stephen seemed very friendly, he was not one whomhe cared to cultivate.

  "Well, so long!" said Stephen, with his "good-night," "I shallprobably see you to-morrow."

  "I have found out where they live," thought Stephen. "I am making avery good detective. I'll drop a line to Uncle Thomas this evening."

  Meanwhile Luke went upstairs two steps at a time. He was the bearer ofgood tidings, and that always quickens the steps.

  He found his mother sitting in her rocking-chair with a sober face.

  "Well, mother," he asked, gayly, "how have you passed the day?"