Luke Walton

by Jr. Horatio Alger

  Again Mrs. Merton and Warner exchanged glances.

  "This is important!" said Mrs. Tracy, in excitement. "Did you speak tohim on the subject?"

  "No."

  "Why not?"

  "I thought he might be innocent, and I didn't want to bring a falsecharge against him."

  "You are very considerate," said Mrs. Merton.

  "That seems quite conclusive, Aunt Eliza," said Mrs. Tracy,triumphantly. "I am sure Warner will agree with me."

  "As to that, Louisa," said her brother, "Harold is not certain it wasaunt's lost pocketbook."

  "But he thinks it was----"

  "Yes, I think it was"

  "For my own part, I have no doubt on the subject," said Mrs. Tracy, ina positive tone. "He is the person most likely to take the money, andthis makes less proof needful."

  "But, suppose, after all, he is innocent," suggested Warner.

  "You seem to take the boy's side, Warner. I am surprised at you."

  "I want him to have a fair chance, that is all. I must say that I havebeen favorably impressed by what I have seen of the boy."

  "At any rate, I think Aunt Eliza ought to question him sternly, notaccepting any evasion or equivocation. He has been guilty of baseingratitude."

  "Supposing him to be guilty?"

  "Yes, of course."

  "I intend to investigate the matter," said the old lady. "What do youthink, Harold? Do you think it probable that Luke opened my drawer,and took out the pocket-book?"

  "It looks very much like it," said Harold.

  "Certainly it does," said Mrs. Tracy, with emphasis.

  "Suppose we drop the conversation for the time being," suggested theold lady. "Harold has not wholly gratified our curiosity as to thewatch and chain. Do you know, Harold, who the gentleman is to whom yourendered such an important service?"

  "No, Aunt Eliza, I did not learn his name."

  "What was his appearance? Describe him."

  "He was a tall man," answered Harold, in a tone of hesitation.

  "Was he an old or a young man?"

  "He was an old man with gray hair. He walked very erect."

  "Should you know him again, if you saw him?"

  "Yes, I think so."

  "Then, perhaps, we may have an opportunity of ascertaining who he was.My broker will probably know him from your description."

  "Why do you want to find out who he is?" asked Harold, uneasily."Don't you think I ought to keep the watch?"

  "I have a feeling of curiosity on the subject. As to keeping it, Idon't think the gentleman will be likely to reclaim it."

  "Of course not. Why should he?" said Mrs. Tracy. "He gave it freely,and it would be very strange if he wished it back."

  Here the conversation dropped, much to Harold's relief. Warneraccompanied his aunt from the room.

  "What do you think of Harold's story, Warner?" asked the old lady.

  "It is very ingenious."

  "But not true?"

  "No; he got the watch and chain from a pawnbroker. I saw him come outof the shop, and going in, questioned the pawnbroker. He must have gotthe ticket somewhere."

  "Then it seems that Harold is not only a thief, but a liar."

  "My dear aunt, let us not be too hard upon him. This is probably hisfirst offense: I feel like being charitable, for I have been in thesame scrape."

  "I can overlook theft more easily than his attempt to blacken thereputation of Luke," said Mrs. Merton, sternly.

  CHAPTER XXXVI

  WARNER POWELL STARTS ON A JOURNEY

  Thanks to the liberal compensation received from Mrs. Merton, Luke wasenabled to supply his mother and Bennie with all the comforts theyrequired, and even to put by two dollars a week. This he did as ameasure of precaution, for he did not know how long the engagement atthe house on Prairie Avenue would last. If he were forced to fall backon his earnings as a newsboy, the family would fare badly. This mighthappen, for he found himself no nearer securing the favor of Haroldand his mother. The manner of the latter was particularly unpleasantwhen they met, and Harold scarcely deigned to speak to him. On theother hand, Warner Powell showed himself very friendly. He often tookthe opportunity to join Luke when he was leaving the house, and chatpleasantly with him. Luke enjoyed his companionship, because Warnerwas able to tell him about Australia and California, with both ofwhich countries Mrs. Tracy's brother was familiar.

  "Mother," said Harold, one day, "Uncle Warner seems very thick withthat newsboy. I have several times seen them walking together."

  Mrs. Tracy frowned, for the news displeased her.

  "I am certainly very much surprised. I should think my brother mightfind a more congenial and suitable companion than Aunt Eliza's hiredboy. I will speak to him about it."

  She accordingly broached the subject to Warner Powell, expressingherself with emphasis.

  "Listen, Louisa," said Warner, "don't you think I am old enough tochoose my own company?"

  "It doesn't seem so," retorted Mrs. Tracy, with a smile.

  "At any rate, I don't need any instructions on that point."

  "As my guest, you certainly ought to treat me with respect."

  "So I do. But I don't feel bound to let you regulate my conduct."

  "You know what cause I have--we both have--to dislike this boy."

  "I don't dislike him."

  "Then you ought to."

  "He is in Aunt Eliza's employment. While he remains so, I shall treathim with cordiality."

  "You are blind as a mole!" said Mrs. Tracy, passionately. "You can'tsee that he is trying to work his way into aunt's affections."

  "I think he has done so already. She thinks a great deal of him."

  "When you find her remembering him in her will, you may come over tomy opinion."

  "She is quite at liberty to remember him in her will, so far as I amconcerned. There will be enough for us, even if she does leave Luke alegacy."

  "I see you are incorrigible. I am sorry I invited you to remain in myhouse.

  "I was under the impression that it was Aunt Eliza's house. You areclaiming too much, Louisa."

  Mrs. Tracy bit her lip, and was compelled to give up her attempt tosecure her brother's allegiance. She contented herself with treatinghim with formal politeness, abstaining from all show of cordiality.This was carried on so far that it attracted the attention of Mrs.Merton.

  "What is the trouble between you and Louisa?" she asked one day.

  Warner laughed.

  "She thinks I am too intimate with your boy, Luke."

  "I don't understand."

  "I often walk with Luke either on his way to or from the house. Haroldhas reported this to his mother, and the result is a lecture as to thechoice of proper companions from my dignified sister."

  Mrs. Merton smiled kindly on her nephew.

  "Then you don't propose to give up Luke?" she said.

  "No; I like the boy. He is worth a dozen Harolds. Perhaps I ought notto say this, for Harold is my nephew and they say blood is thickerthan water. However, it is a fact, nevertheless, that I like Luke thebetter of the two."

  "I shall not blame you for saying that, Warner," returned the oldlady. "I am glad that one of the family, at least, is free fromprejudice. To what do you attribute Louisa's dislike of Luke?"

  "I think, aunt, you are shrewd enough to guess the reason withoutappealing to me."

  "Still, I would like to hear it from your lips."

  "In plain words, then, Louisa is afraid you will remember Luke in yourwill."

  "She doesn't think I would leave everything to him, does she?"

  "She objects to your leaving anything. If it were only five hundreddollars she would grudge it."

  "Louisa was always selfish," said Mrs. Merton, quietly. "I have alwaysknown that. She is not wise, however. She does not understand that Iam a very obstinate old woman, and am more likely to take my own wayif opposed."

  "That's right, aunt! You are entitled to have your own way, and I forone am the last to w
ish to interfere with you."

  "You will not fare any the worse for that! And now, Warner, tell mewhat are your chances of employment?"

  "I wished to speak to you about that, aunt. There is a gentleman inMilwaukee who has a branch office in Chicago, and I understand that hewants someone to represent him here. His present agent is about toresign his position, and I think I have some chance of obtaining theplace. It will be necessary for me, however, to go to Milwaukee to seehim in person."

  "Go, then, by all means," said Mrs. Merton. "I will defray yourexpenses."

  "Thank you very much, aunt. You know that I have little money of myown. But there is another thing indispensable, and that I am afraidyou would not be willing to do for me."

  "What is it, Warner?"

  "I shall have charge of considerable money belonging to my employer,and I learn from the present agent that I shall have to get someone togive bonds for me in the sum of ten thousand dollars."

  "Very well! I am willing to stand your security."

  Warner looked surprised and gratified.

  "Knowing how dishonestly I have acted in the past?" he said.

  "The past is past. You are a different man, I hope and believe."

  "Aunt Eliza, you shall never regret the generous confidence you arewilling to repose in me. It is likely to open for me a new career, andto make a new man of me."

  "That is my desire, Warner. Let me add that I am only following yourown example. You have refused to believe evil of Luke, unlike yoursister, and have not been troubled by the kindness I have shown him.This is something I remember to your credit."

  "Thank you, aunt. If you have been able to discover anythingcreditable in me, I am all the more pleased."

  "How much will this position pay you, supposing you get it?"

  "Two thousand dollars a year. To me that will be a competence. I shallbe able to save one-half, for I have given up my former expensivetastes, and am eager to settle down to a steady and methodicalbusiness life."

  "When do you want to go to Milwaukee, Warner?"

  "I should like to go at once."

  "Here is some money to defray your expenses."

  Mrs. Merton opened her table drawer, and took out a roll of billsamounting to fifty dollars.

  "I wish you good luck!" she said.

  "Thank you, aunt! I shall take the afternoon train to Milwaukee, andsleep there to-night."

  Warner Powell hastened to catch the train, and, at six o'clock in theevening, landed, with a large number of fellow passengers, in themetropolis of Wisconsin.

  CHAPTER XXXVII

  THOMAS BROWNING'S SECRET

  Warner Powell had learned wisdom and prudence with his increasingyears, and, instead of inquiring for the best hotel, was content toput up at a humbler hostelry, where he would be comfortable. He madethe acquaintance on the cars of a New York drummer, with whom hebecame quite sociable.

  "I suppose you have been in Milwaukee often," said Warner.

  "I go there once a year--sometimes twice."

  "Where do you stay?"

  "At the Prairie Hotel. It is a comfortable house--two dollars a day."

  "Just what I want. I will go there."

  So, at quarter-past six. Warner Powell found himself in the office ofthe hotel. He was assigned a room on the third floor.

  After making his toilet, he went down to supper. At the table with himwere two gentlemen who, from their conversation, appeared to beresidents of the city. They were discussing the coming municipalelection.

  "I tell you, Browning will be our mayor," said one. "His reputation asa philanthropist will elect him."

  "I never took much stock in his claims on that score."

  "He belongs to all the charitable societies, and is generally anofficer."

  "That may be; how much does he give himself?"

  "I don't know. I suppose he is a liberal subscriber."

  "He wants to give that impression, but the man is as selfish as theaverage. He is said to be a hard landlord, and his tenants get veryfew favors."

  "I am surprised to hear that."

  "He is trading on his philanthropy. It would be interesting to learnwhere his wealth came from. I should not be surprised if he were moresmart than honest."

  Warner Powell found himself getting interested in this Browning. Washe really a good man, who was unjustly criticised, or was he a shamphilanthropist, as charged?

  "After all, it doesn't concern me," he said to himself. "The goodpeople of Milwaukee may choose whom they please for mayor so far as Iam concerned."

  After supper Warner stepped up to the cigar stand to buy a cigar.This, as the reader will remember, was kept by Jack King, an oldCalifornia acquaintance of Thomas Browning, whose first appearance inour story was in the character of a tramp and would-be burglar.

  "Is business good?" asked Warner, pleasantly.

  "It is fair; but it seems slow to a man like myself, who has made ahundred dollars a day at the mines in California."

  "I have been in California myself," said Powell, "but it was recently,and no such sums were to be made in my time."

  "That is true. It didn't last with me. I have noticed that even in theflush times few brought much money away with them, no matter how luckythey were."

  "There must become exceptions, however."

  "There were. We have a notable example in Milwaukee."

  "To whom do you refer?"

  "To Thomas Browning, the man who is up for mayor."

  Jack King laughed.

  "I've heard a lot of talk about that man. He's very honest and veryworthy, I hear."

  "They call him so," he answered.

  "I am afraid you are jealous of that good man," said Warner, smiling.

  "I may be jealous of his success, but not of his reputation or hismoral qualities."

  "Then you don't admire him as much as the public generally?"

  "No, I know him too well."

  "He is really rich, is he not?"

  "Yes, that is, he is worth, perhaps, two hundred thousand dollars."

  "That would satisfy me."

  "Or me. But I doubt whether the money was creditably gained."

  "Do you know anything about it? Were you an acquaintance of his?"

  "Yes; I can remember him when he was only a rough miner. I never heardthat he was very lucky, but he managed to take considerable money Eastwith him."

  Warner eyed Jack King attentively.

  "You suspect something," he said, shrewdly.

  "I do. There was one of our acquaintances who had struck it rich, andaccumulated about ten thousand dollars. Browning was thick with him,and I always suspected that when he found himself on his deathbed, heintrusted all his savings to Butler----"

  "I thought you were speaking of Browning?"

  "His name was Butler then. He has changed it since. But, as I wassaying, I think he intrusted his money to Browning to take home to hisfamily."

  "Well?"

  "The question is, did Browning fulfill his trust, or keep the moneyhimself?"

  "That would come out, wouldn't it? The family would make inquiries."

  "They did not know that the dying man had money. He kept it tohimself, for he wanted to go home and give them an agreeable surprise.Butler knew this, and, I think, he took advantage of it."

  "That was contemptible. But can't it be ascertained? Is it known wherethe family lives? What is the name?"

  "Walton."

  "Walton!" repeated Warner Powell, in surprise.

  "Yes; do you know any family of that name?"

  "I know a boy in Chicago named Luke Walton. He is in the employ of myaunt. A part of his time he spends in selling papers."

  "Mr. Browning told me that Walton only left a daughter, and that thefamily had gone to the Eastern States."

  "Would he be likely to tell you the truth--supposing he had reallykept the money?"

  "Perhaps not. What more can you tell me about this boy?"

  Powell's face lighted up.
<
br />   "I remember now, he told me that his father died in California."

  "Is it possible?" said Jack King, excited. "I begin to think I am onthe right track. I begin to think, too, that I can tell where TomButler got his first start."

  "And now he poses as a philanthropist?"

  "Yes."

  "And is nominated for mayor?"

  "Yes, also."

  "How are your relations with him?"

  "They should be friendly, for he and I were comrades in earlier days,and once I lent him money when he needed it, but he has been puffed upby his prosperity, and takes very little notice of me. He had to dosomething for me when I first came to Milwaukee, but it was because hewas afraid not to."

  Meanwhile Warner Powell was searching his memory. Where and how had hebecome familiar with the name of Thomas Browning? At last it came tohim.

  "Eureka!" he exclaimed, in excitement.

  "What does that mean? I don't understand French."

  Warner smiled.

  "It isn't French," he said; "but Greek, all the Greek I know. It means'I have discovered'--the mystery of your old acquaintance."

  "Explain, please!" said Jack King, his interest be coming intense.

  "I have a friend in Chicago--Stephen Webb, a nephew of yourphilanthropist--who has been commissioned by his uncle to find out allhe can about this newsboy, Luke Walton. He was speculating with me whyhis uncle should be so interested in an obscure boy."