Luke Walton

by Jr. Horatio Alger

  Produced by Gary Sandino (text) and Al Haines (HTML) fromscans kindly provided by the Internet Archive(www.archive.org)

  Note: Images of the original pages are available through Internet Archive American Libraries. See https://www.archive.org/details/lukewalton00alge

  [Frontispiece: "Luke rescues Mrs. Merton."]

  LUKE WALTON

  BY

  HORATIO ALGER, JR.

  Author of

  "ANDY GORDON," "THE TELEGRAPH BOY," "SAM'S CHANCE," "BOB BURTON," "FRANK MASON'S SECRET"

  [Insignia]

  MADE IN U. S. A.

  M. A. DONOHUE & COMPANY

  CHICAGO :: NEW YORK

  CONTENTS

  I A CHICAGO NEWSBOY II A LETTER FROM THE DEAD III LUKE FORMS A RESOLUTION IV AN ATTACK IN THE DARK V HOW LUKE ESCAPED VI MR. AFTON'S OFFICE VII A STRANGE ENCOUNTER VIII A MARKED MAN IX STEPHEN WEBB X STEPHEN WEBB OBTAINS SOME INFORMATION XI A HOUSE ON PRAIRIE AVENUE XII A PLOT THAT FAILED XIII TOM BROOKS IN TROUBLE XIV LUKE HAS A COOL RECEPTION IN PRAIRIE AVENUE XV A WELCOME GIFT XVI THOMAS BROWNING AT HOME XVII A STRANGE VISITOR XVIII HOW JACK KING FARED XIX A SENSATIONAL INCIDENT XX AMBROSE KEAN'S IMPRUDENCE XXI A FRIEND IN NEED XXII HOW AMBROSE KEAN WAS SAVED XXIII STEPHEN WEBB IS PUZZLED XXIV MRS. MERTON PASSES A PLEASANT EVENING XXV MRS. TRACY'S BROTHER XXVI THE PRODIGAL'S RECEPTION XXVII UNCLE AND NEPHEW XXVIII HAROLD'S TEMPTATION XXIX HAROLD'S THEFT XXX LUKE WALTON IS SUSPECTED OF THEFT XXXI WHO STOLE THE MONEY? XXXII HAROLD AND FELICIE MAKE AN ARRANGEMENT XXXIII HAROLD'S PLOT FAILS XXXIV HAROLD MAKES A PURCHASE XXXV A SKILLFUL INVENTION XXXVI WARNER POWELL STARTS ON A JOURNEY XXXVII THOMAS BROWNING'S SECRET XXXVIII FELICIE PROVES TROUBLESOME XXXIX LUKE WALTON'S LETTER XL FACE TO FACE WITH THE ENEMY XLI MR. BROWNING COMES TO TERMS XLII CONCLUSION

  LUKE WALTON

  CHAPTER I

  A CHICAGO NEWSBOY

  "_News_ and _Mail_, one cent each!"

  Half a dozen Chicago newsboys, varying in age from ten to sixteenyears, with piles of papers in their hands, joined in the chorus.

  They were standing in front and at the sides of the Sherman House, onthe corner of Clark and Randolph Streets, one of the noted buildingsin the Lake City. On the opposite side of Randolph Street stands agloomy stone structure, the Court House and City Hall. In the shadowof these buildings, at the corner, Luke Walton, one of the largestnewsboys, had posted himself. There was something about his bearingand appearance which distinguished him in a noticeable way from hiscompanions.

  To begin with, he looked out of place. He was well grown, with afrank, handsome face, and was better dressed than the average newsboy.That was one reason, perhaps, why he preferred to be by himself,rather than to engage in the scramble for customers which was thehabit of the boys around him.

  It was half-past five. The numerous cars that passed were full ofbusiness men, clerks, and boys, returning to their homes after a busyday.

  Luke had but two papers left, but these two for some unaccountablereason remained on his hands an unusual length of time. But at lengtha comfortable-looking gentleman of middle age, coming from thedirection of La Salle Street, paused and said, "You may give me a_News_, my boy."

  "Here you are, sir," he said, briskly.

  The gentleman took the paper, and thrusting his hand into his pocket,began to feel for a penny, but apparently without success.

  "I declare," he said, smiling, "I believe I am penniless. I havenothing but a five-dollar bill."

  "Never mind, sir! Take the paper and pay me to morrow."

  "But I may not see you."

  "I am generally here about this time."

  "And if I shouldn't see you, you will lose the penny."

  "I will risk it, sir," said Luke, smiling.

  "You appear to have confidence in me."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Then it is only fair that I should have confidence in you."

  Luke looked puzzled, for he didn't quite understand what was in thegentleman's mind.

  "I will take both of your papers. Here is a five-dollar bill. You maybring me the change to-morrow, at my office, No. 155 La Salle Street.My name is Benjamin Afton."

  "But, sir," objected Luke, "there is no occasion for this. It is muchbetter that I should trust you for two cents than that you shouldtrust me with five dollars."

  "Probably the two cents are as important to you as five dollars to me.At any rate, it is a matter of confidence, and I am quite willing totrust you."

  "Thank you, sir, but----"

  "I shall have to leave you, or I shall be home late to dinner."

  Before Luke had a chance to protest further, he found himself alone,his stock of papers exhausted, and a five-dollar bill in his hand.

  While he stood on the corner in some perplexity, a newsboy crossedRandolph Street, and accosted him.

  "My eyes, if you ain't in luck, Luke Walton," he said. "Where did youget that bill? Is it a one?"

  "No, it's a five."

  "Where'd you get it?"

  "A gentleman just bought two papers of me."

  "And gave you five dollars! You don't expect me to swaller all that,do you?"

  "I'm to bring him the change to-morrow," continued Luke.

  The other boy nearly doubled up with merriment.

  "Wasn't he jolly green, though?" he ejaculated.

  "Why was he?" asked Luke, who by this time felt considerably annoyed.

  "He'll have to whistle for his money."

  "Why will he?"

  "Cause he will."

  "He won't do anything of the sort. I shall take him his changeto-morrow morning."

  "What?" ejaculated Tom Brooks.

  "I shall carry him his change in the morning--four dollars andninety-eight cents. Can't you understand that?"

  "You ain't going to be such a fool, Luke Walton?"

  "If it's being a fool to be honest, then I'm going to be that kind of afool. Wouldn't you do the same?"

  "No, I wouldn't. I'd just invite all the boys round the corner to gowith me to the theayter. Come, Luke, be a good feller, and give us alla blow-out. We'll go to the theayter, and afterwards we'll have anoyster stew. I know a bully place on Clark Street, near Monroe."

  "Do you take me for a thief, Tom Brooks?" exclaimed Luke,indignantly.

  "The gentleman meant you to have the money. Of course he knew youwouldn't bring it back. Lemme see, there's a good play on to Hooley's.Six of us will cost a dollar and a half, and the oyster stews will befifteen cents apiece. That'll only take half the money, and you'llhave half left for yourself."

  "I am ashamed of you, Tom Brooks. You want me to become a thief, andit is very evident what you would do if you were in my place. Whatwould the gentleman think of me?"

  "He don't know you. You can go on State Street to sell papers, so hewon't see you."

  "Suppose he should see me."

  "You can tell him you lost the money. You ain't smart, Luke Walton, oryou'd know how to manage."

  "No, I am not smart in that way, I confess. I shan't waste any moretime talking to you. I'm going home."

  "I know what you're going to do. You're goin' to spend all the moneyon yourself."

  "Don't you believe that I mean to return the change?"

  "No, I don't."

  "I ought not to complain of that. You merely credit me with acting asyou would act yourself. How many papers have you got left?"

  "Eight."

  "Here, give me half, and I will sell them for you, that is, if I cando it in fifteen minutes."

  "I'd rather you'd take me to the theayter," grumbled Tom.

  "I've already told you I won't do it."

&n
bsp; In ten minutes Luke had sold his extra supply of papers, and handedthe money to Tom. Tom thanked him in an ungracious sort of way, andLuke started for home.

  It was a long walk, for the poor cannot afford to pick and choosetheir localities. Luke took his way through Clark Street to the river,and then, turning in a north westerly direction, reached MilwaukeeAvenue. This is not a fashionable locality, and the side streets aretenanted by those who are poor or of limited means.

  Luke paused in front of a three-story frame house in Green Street. Heascended the steps and opened the door, for this was the newsboy'shome.

  CHAPTER II

  A LETTER FROM THE DEAD

  In the entry Luke met a girl of fourteen with fiery red hair, whichapparently was a stranger to the comb and brush. She was thelandlady's daughter, and, though of rather fitful and uncertaintemper, always had a smile and pleasant word for Luke, who was afavorite of hers.

  "Well, Nancy, how's mother?" asked the newsboy, as he began to ascendthe front stairs.

  "She seems rather upset like, Luke," answered Nancy.

  "What has happened to upset her?" asked Luke, anxiously.

  "I think it's a letter she got about noon. It was a queer letter, allmarked up, as if it had been travelin' round. I took it in myself, andcarried it up to your ma. I stayed to see her open it, for I was kindof curious to know who writ it."

  "Well?"

  "As soon as your ma opened it, she turned as pale as ashes, and Ithought she'd faint away. She put her hand on her heart just so," andNancy placed a rather dirty hand of her own, on which glittered afive-cent brass ring, over that portion of her anatomy where shesupposed her heart lay.

  "She didn't faint away, did she?" asked Luke.

  "No, not quite."

  "Did she say who the letter was from?"

  "No; I asked her, but she said, 'From no one that you ever saw,Nancy.' I say, Luke, if you find out who's it from, let me know."

  "I won't promise, Nancy. Perhaps mother would prefer to keep it asecret."

  "Oh, well, keep your secrets, if you want to."

  "Don't be angry, Nancy; I will tell you if I can," and Luke hurriedupstairs to the third story, which contained the three rooms occupiedby his mother, his little brother, and himself.

  Opening the door, he saw his mother sitting in a rocking-chair,apparently in deep thought, for the work had fallen from her hands andlay in her lap. There was an expression of sadness in her face, as ifshe had been thinking of the happy past, when the little family wasprosperous, and undisturbed by poverty or privation.

  "What's the matter, mother?" asked Luke, with solicitude.

  Mrs. Walton looked up quickly.

  "I have been longing to have you come back, Luke," she said."Something strange has happened to-day."

  "You received a letter, did you not?"

  "Who told you, Luke?"

  "Nancy. I met her as I came in. She said she brought up the letter,and that you appeared very much agitated when you opened it."

  "It is true."

  "From whom was the letter, then, mother?"

  "From your father."

  "What!" exclaimed Luke, with a start. "Is he not dead?"

  "The letter was written a year ago."

  "Why, then, has it arrived so late?"

  "Your father on his deathbed intrusted it to someone who mislaid it,and has only just discovered and mailed it. On the envelope heexplains this, and expresses his regret. It was at first mailed to ourold home, and has been forwarded from there. But that is not all,Luke. I learn from the letter that we have been cruelly wronged. Yourfather, when he knew he could not live, intrusted to a man in whom hehad confidence, ten thousand dollars to be conveyed to us. This wickedman could not resist the temptation, but kept it, thinking we shouldnever know anything about it. You will find it all explained in theletter."

  "Let me read it, mother," said Luke, in excitement.

  Mrs. Walton opened a drawer of the bureau, and placed in her son'shands an envelope, brown and soiled by contact with tobacco. It wasdirected to her in a shaky hand. Across one end were written thesewords:

  This letter was mislaid. I have just discovered it, and mail it,hoping it will reach you without further delay. Many apologies andregrets. J. HANSHAW.

  Luke did not spend much time upon the envelope, but opened theletter.

  The sight of his father's familiar handwriting brought the tears tohis eyes, This was the letter:

  GOLD GULCH, California.

  MY DEAR WIFE: It is a solemn thought to me that when you receive thisletter these trembling fingers will be cold in death. Yes, dear Mary,I know very well that I am on my deathbed, and shall never more bepermitted to see your sweet face, or meet again the gaze of my dearchildren. Last week I contracted a severe cold while mining, partlythrough imprudent exposure; and have grown steadily worse, till thedoctor, whom I summoned from Sacramento, informs me that there is nohope, and that my life is not likely to extend beyond two days. Thisis a sad end to my dreams of future happiness with my little familygathered around me. It is all the harder, because I have beensuccessful in the errand that brought me out here. "I have struck itrich," as they say out here, and have been able to lay by ten thousanddollars. I intended to go home next month, carrying this with me. Itwould have enabled me to start in some business which would haveyielded us a liberal living, and provided a comfortable home for youand the children. But all this is over--for me at least. For you Ihope the money will bring what I anticipated. I wish I could live longenough to see it in your hands, but that cannot be.

  I have intrusted it to a friend who has been connected with me here,Thomas Butler, of Chicago. He has solemnly promised to seek you out,and put the money into your hands. I think he will be true to histrust. Indeed I have no doubt on the subject, for I cannot conceive ofany man being base enough to belie the confidence placed in him by adying man, and despoil a widow and her fatherless children. No, I willnot permit myself to doubt the integrity of my friend. If I should, itwould make my last sickness exceedingly bitter.

  Yet, as something might happen to Butler on his way home, thoughexceedingly improbable, I think it well to describe him to you. He isa man of nearly fifty, I should say, about five feet ten inches inheight, with a dark complexion, and dark hair a little tinged withgray. He will weigh about one hundred and sixty pounds. But there isone striking mark about him which will serve to identify him. He has awart on the upper part of his right cheek--a mark which disfigures himand mortifies him exceedingly. He has consulted a physician about itsremoval, but has been told that the operation would involve danger,and, moreover, would not be effectual, as the wart is believed to beof a cancerous nature, and would in all probability grow out again.For these reasons he has given up his intention of having it removed,and made up his mind, unwillingly enough, to carry it to the gravewith him.

  I have given you this long description, not because it seemed at allnecessary, for I believe Thomas Butler to be a man of strict honesty,but because for some reason I am impelled to do so.

  I am very tired, and I feel that I must close. God bless you, dearwife, and guard our children, soon to be fatherless!

  Your loving husband,

  FREDERICK WALTON.

  P.S.--Butler has left for the East. This letter I have given toanother friend to mail after my death.

  CHAPTER III

  LUKE FORMS A RESOLUTION

  As Luke read this letter his pleasant face became stern in itsexpression. They had indeed been cruelly wronged. The large sum ofwhich they had been defrauded would have insured them comfort andsaved them from many an anxiety. His mother would not have beenobliged to take in sewing, and he himself could have carried out hischerished design of obtaining a college education.

  This man in whom his father had reposed the utmost confidence had beenfalse to his trust. He had kept in his own hands the money whichshould have gone to the widow and children of his dying friend. Couldanything be more base?

  "Mother,"
said Luke, "this man Thomas Butler must be a villain."

  Yes, Luke; he has done us a great wrong."

  "He thought, no doubt, that we should never hear of this money."

  "I almost wish I had not, Luke. It is very tantalizing to think how itwould have improved our condition."

  "Then you are sorry to receive the letter, mother?"

  "No, Luke. It seems like a message from the dead, and shows me howgood and thoughtful your poor father was to the last. He meant toleave us comfortable."

  "But his plans were defeated by a rascal. Mother, I should like tomeet and punish this Thomas Butler."

  "Even if you should meet him, Luke, you must be prudent. He isprobably a rich man."

  "Made so at our expense," added Luke, bitterly.

  "And he would deny having received anything from your father."

  "Mother," said Luke, sternly and deliberately, "I feel sure that Ishall some day meet this man face to face, and if I do it will go hardif I don't force him to give up this money which he has falselyconverted to his own use."

  The boy spoke with calm and resolute dignity hardly to be expected inone so young, and with a deep conviction that surprised his mother.

  "Luke," she said, "I hardly know you to-night. You don't seem like aboy. You speak like a man."

  "I feel so. It is the thought of this man triumphant in his crime,that makes me feel older than I am. Now, mother, I feel that I have apurpose in life. It is to find this man, and punish him for what hehas done, unless he will make reparation."