Luke Walton

by Jr. Horatio Alger

  "Had his uncle told him nothing?"

  "No, except that he dropped a hint about knowing Luke's father."

  "This Luke and his family are poor, you say?"

  "Yes, you can judge that from his employment. He is an honest, manlyboy, however, and I have taken a fancy to him. I hope it will turn outas you say. But nothing can be proved. This Browning will probablydeny that he received money in trust from the dead father."

  Jack King's countenance fell.

  "When you go back to Chicago talk with the boy, and find out whetherthe family have any evidence that will support their claim. Then sendthe boy on to me, and we will see what can be done."

  "I accept the suggestion with pleasure. But I will offer an amendment.Let us write the boy to come on at once, and have a joint consultationin his interest."

  CHAPTER XXXVIII

  FELICIE PROVES TROUBLESOME

  We must return to Chicago for a short time before recording theincidents of Luke's visit to Milwaukee.

  Though Harold had lost nearly half of his money through beingcompelled to divide with Felicie, he was, upon the whole, wellsatisfied with the way in which he had escaped from suspicion. He hadhis gold watch, and, as far as he knew, the story which he had toldabout it had not been doubted. But something happened that annoyed andalarmed him.

  One day, when there was no one else in the house, except the servants,Felicie intercepted him as he was going out.

  "I want a word with you, Master Harold," she said.

  "I am in a hurry, Felicie," replied Harold, who had conceived adislike for the French maid.

  "Still, I think you can spare a few minutes," went on Felicie, smilingin an unpleasant manner.

  "Well, be quick about it," said Harold, impatiently.

  "I have a sister who is very sick. She is a widow with two children,and her means are very small."

  "Goodness, Felicie! What is all this to me? Of course, I'm sorry forher, but I don't know her."

  "She looks to me to help her," continued Felicie.

  "Well, that's all right! I suppose you are going to help her."

  "There is the trouble, Master Harold. I have no money on hand."

  "Well, I'm sure that is unlucky, but why do you speak to me aboutit?"

  "Because," and here Felicie's eyes glistened, "I know you obtainedsome money recently from your aunt."

  "Hush!" said Harold, apprehensively.

  "But it's true."

  "And it's true that you made me give you half of it."

  "It all went to my poor sister," said Felicie theatrically.

  "I don't see what I have to do with that," said Harold, not withoutreason.

  "So that I kept none for myself. Now I am sure you will open yourheart, and give me five dollars more."

  "I never heard such cheek!" exclaimed Harold, indignantly. "You've gothalf, and are not satisfied with that."

  "But think of my poor sister!" said Felicie, putting her handkerchiefto her eyes, in which there were no tears.

  "Think of me!" exclaimed Harold, angrily.

  "Then you won't give me the trifle I ask?"

  "Trifle? I haven't got it."

  "Where is it gone?"

  "Gone to buy this watch. That took nearly the whole of it."

  "It is indeed so? I thought you received it as a reward for picking upa pocketbook."

  "I had to tell my aunt something. Otherwise they would ask meembarrassing questions."

  "Ah, _quelle invention!_" exclaimed Felicie, playfully. "And youreally have none of the money left?"

  "No."

  "Then there is only one way."

  "What is that?"

  "To open the drawer again."

  "Are you mad, Felicie? I should surely be discovered. It won't do totry it a second time when my aunt is on her guard. Besides, verylikely she don't keep her money there now."

  "Oh, yes, she does."

  "How do you know?"

  "I was in the room yesterday when she opened the drawer to take outmoney to pay a bill."

  "She must be foolish, then."

  "Ah," said Felicie, coolly, "she thinks lightning won't strike twicein the same place."

  "Well, it won't."

  "There must have been fifty dollars in bills in the drawer," continuedFelicie, insinuatingly.

  "It may stay there for all me. I won't go to the drawer again."

  "I must have some money," said Felicie, significantly.

  "Then go and tell Aunt Eliza, and she may give you some."

  "I don't think your Aunt Eliza likes me," said Felicie, frankly.

  "Very likely not," said Harold, with equal candor.

  "You can raise some money on your watch, Master Harold," suggestedFelicie.

  "How?"

  "At the pawnbroker's."

  "Well, I don't mean to."

  "No?"

  "No!" returned Harold, emphatically.

  "Suppose I go and tell Mrs. Merton who took her money?"

  "You would only expose yourself."

  "I did not take it."

  "You made me divide with you."

  "I shall deny all that. Besides, I shall tell all that I saw--on thatday."

  Harold felt troubled. Felicie might, as he knew, make trouble for him,and though he could in time inform against her, that would not makematters much better for him. Probably the whole story would come out,and he felt sure that the French maid would not spare him.

  A lucky thought came to him.

  "Felicie," he said, "I think I can suggest something that will helpyou."

  "Well, what is it?"

  "Go to my aunt's drawer yourself. You have plenty of chance, and youcan keep all the money you find. I won't ask you for any of it."

  Felicie eyed him sharply. She was not sure but he meant to trap her.

  "I have no keys," she said.

  "You can use the same bunch I have. Here they are!"

  Felicie paused a moment, then took the proffered keys. After all, whyshould she not make use of the suggestion? It would be thought thatthe second thief was the same as the first.

  "Can I rely on your discretion, Master Harold?" she asked.

  "Yes, certainly. I am not very likely to say anything about thematter."

  "True! It might not be for your interest. Good-morning, Master Harold,I won't detain you any longer."

  Harold left the house with a feeling of relief.

  "I hope Felicie will be caught!" he said to himself. "I have a greatmind to give Aunt Eliza a hint."

  It looked as if the generally astute Felicie had made a mistake.

  CHAPTER XXXIX

  LUKE WALTON'S LETTER

  "Here is a letter for you, Luke!" said Mrs. Walton.

  Luke took it in his hand, and regarded it curiously. He was not in thehabit of receiving letters.

  "It is postmarked Milwaukee," he said.

  "Do you know anyone in Milwaukee?" asked his mother.

  "No; or stay, it must be from Mr. Powell, a brother of Mrs. Tracy."

  "Probably he sends a message to his sister."

  By this time Luke had opened the following letter, which he read withgreat surprise and excitement:

  DEAR LUKE:--Come to Milwaukee as soon as you can, and join me at thePrairie Hotel. I write in your own interest. There is a large sum dueto your father, which I may be able to put you in the way ofcollecting. You had better see Aunt Eliza, and ask leave of absencefor a day or two. If you haven't money enough to come on, let herknow, and I am sure she will advance it to you.

  Your friend,

  WARNER POWELL.

  "What can it mean?" asked Mrs. Walton, to whom Luke read the letter.

  "It must refer to the ten thousand dollars which father sent to us onhis dying bed."

  "If it were only so!" said the widow, clasping her hands.

  "At any rate, I shall soon find out, mother. I had better take theletter which was sent us, giving us the first information of thelegacy."

  "Very well, Luke! I
don't know anything about business. I must leavethe matter entirely in your hands.

  "I will go at once to Mrs. Merton and ask if it will inconvenience herif I go away for a couple of days."

  "Do so, Luke! She is a kind friend, and you should do nothing withouther permission."

  Luke took the cars for Prairie Avenue, though it was afternoon, and hehad been there once already. He was shown immediately into the oldlady's presence.

  Mrs. Merton saw him enter with surprise.

  "Has anything happened, Luke?" she asked.

  "I have received a letter from your nephew, summoning me toMilwaukee."

  "I hope he is not in any scrape."

  "No; it is a very friendly letter, written in my interest. May I readit to you?"

  "I shall be glad to hear it."

  Mrs. Merton settled herself back in her rocking-chair, and listened tothe reading of the letter.

  "Do you know what this refers to, Luke?" she asked.

  "Yes; my father on his deathbed in California intrusted a strangerwith ten thousand dollars to bring to my mother. He kept it for hisown use, and it was only by an accident that we heard about thematter."

  "You interest me, Luke. What was the accident?"

  Luke explained.

  "It must be this that Mr. Powell refers to," he added.

  "But I don't see how my nephew should have anything to do with it."

  "There is a man in Milwaukee who answers the description of thestranger to whom my poor father intrusted his money. I have seen him,for he often comes to Chicago. I have even spoken to him."

  "Have you ever taxed him with this breach of trust?"

  "No, for he bears a different name. He is Thomas Browning, while theletter mentions Thomas Butler."

  "He may have changed his name."

  "I was stupid not to think of that before. There can hardly be two menso singularly alike. I have come to ask you, Mrs. Merton, if you canspare me for two or three days."

  "For as long as you like, Luke," said the old lady, promptly. "Haveyou any money for your traveling expenses?"

  "Yes, thank you."

  "No matter. Here are twenty dollars. Money never comes amiss."

  "You are always kind to me, Mrs. Merton," said Luke, gratefully.

  "It is easy to be kind if one is rich. I want to see that manpunished. Let me give you one piece of advice. Be on your guard withthis man! He is not to be trusted."

  "Thank you! I am sure your advice is good."

  "I wish you good luck, Luke. However things may turn out, there is onething that gratifies me. Warner is showing himself your friend. I havelooked upon him till recently as a black sheep, but he is redeeminghimself rapidly in my eyes. I shall not forget his kindness to you."

  As Luke went downstairs he met Mrs. Tracy.

  "Here again!" said she, coldly. "Did my aunt send for you thisafternoon?"

  "No, madam."

  "Then you should not have intruded. You are young, but you are veryartful. I see through your schemes, you may rest assured."

  "I wished to show Mrs. Merton a letter from your brother, now inMilwaukee," said Luke.

  "Oh, that's it, is it? Let me see the letter."

  "I must refer you to Mrs. Merton."

  "He has probably sent to Aunt Eliza for some money," thought Mrs.Tracy. "He and the boy are well matched."

  CHAPTER XL

  FACE TO FACE WITH THE ENEMY

  Thomas Browning sat in his handsome study, in a complacent frame ofmind. The caucus was to be held in the evening, and he confidentlyexpected the nomination for mayor. It was the post he had coveted fora long time. There were other honors that were greater, but themayoralty would perhaps prove a stepping-stone to them. He must not beimpatient. He was only in middle life, and there was plenty of time.

  "I didn't dream this when I was a penniless miner in California," hereflected, gleefully. "Fortune was hard upon me then, but now I am atthe top of the heap. All my own good management, too. Tom Butler--no,Browning--is no fool, if I do say it myself."

  "Someone to see you, Mr. Browning," said the servant.

  "Show him in!" replied the philanthropist.

  A poorly dressed man followed the maid into the room.

  Mr. Browning frowned. He had thought it might be some influentialmember of his party.

  "What do you want?" he asked, roughly.

  The poor man stood humbly before him, nervously pressing the hatbetween his hands.

  "I am one of your tenants, Mr. Browning. I am behindhand with my rent,owing to sickness in the family, and I have been ordered out."

  "And very properly, too!" said Browning. "You can't expect me to letyou stay gratis."

  "But sir, you have the reputation of being a philanthropist. It hardlyseems the character----"

  "I do not call myself a philanthropist--others call me so--and perhapsthey are right. I help the poor to the extent of my means, but even aphilanthropist expects his honest dues."

  "Then you can do nothing for me, sir?"

  "No; I do not feel called upon to interfere in your case."

  The poor man went out sorrowfully, leaving the philanthropist in anirritable mood. Five minutes later a second visitor was announced.

  "Who is it?" asked Browning, fearing it might be an other tenant.

  "It is a boy, sir."

  "With a message, probably. Show him up."

  But Thomas Browning was destined to be surprised, when in themanly-looking youth who entered he recognized the Chicago newsboy whohad already excited his uneasiness.

  "What brings you here?" he demanded, in a startled tone.

  "I don't know if you remember me, Mr. Browning," said Luke, quietly."Luke Walton is my name, sir, and I have sold you papers near theSherman House, in Chicago."

  "I thought your face looked familiar," said Browning, assuming anindifferent tone. "You have made a mistake in coming to Milwaukee. Youcannot do as well here as in Chicago."

  "I have not come in search of a place. I have a good one at home."

  "I suppose you have some object in coming to this city?"

  "Yes; I came to see you."

  "Upon my word, I ought to feel flattered, but I can't do anything foryou. I have some reputation in charitable circles, but I have my handsfull here."

  "I have not come to ask you a favor, Mr. Browning. If you will allowme, I will ask your advice in a matter of importance to me."

  Browning brightened up. He was always ready to give advice.

  "Go on!" he said.

  "When I was a young boy my father went to California. He left mymother, my brother, and myself very poorly provided for, but he hopedto earn money at the mines. A year passed, and we heard of hisdeath."

  "A good many men die in California," said Browning, phlegmatically.

  "We could not learn that father left anything, and we were compelledto get long as we could. Mother obtained sewing to do at low prices,and I sold papers."

  "A common experience!" said Browning, coldly.

  "About three months ago," continued Luke, "we were surprised byreceiving in a letter from a stranger, a message from my father'sdeathbed."

  Thomas Browning started and turned pale, as he gazed intently in theboy's face.

  "How much does he know?" he asked himself, apprehensively.

  "Go on!" he said, slowly.

  "In this letter we learned for the first time that father hadintrusted the sum of ten thousand dollars to an acquaintance to bebrought to my mother. This man proved false and kept the money."

  "This story may or may not be true," said Browning, with an effort."Was the man's name given?"

  "Yes; his name was Thomas Butler."

  "Indeed! Have you ever met him?"

  "I think so," answered Luke, slowly. "I will read his description fromthe letter: He has a wart on the upper part of his right cheek--a markwhich disfigures and mortifies him exceedingly. He is about five feetten inches in height, with a dark complexion and dark hair, a littletinged w
ith gray.

  "Let me see the letter," said Browning, hoarsely.

  He took the letter in his hand, and, moving near the grate fire, beganto read it. Suddenly the paper as if accidentally, slipped from hisfingers, and fell upon the glowing coals--where it was instantlyconsumed.

  "How careless I am!" ejaculated Browning, but there was exultation inthe glance.

  CHAPTER XLI

  MR. BROWNING COMES TO TERMS

  The destruction of the letter, and the open exultation of the man whohad in intention at least doubly wronged him, did not appear to dismayLuke Walton. He sat quite cool and collected, facing Mr. Browning."Really, I don't see how this letter happened to slip from my hand,"continued the philanthropist. "I am afraid you consider itimportant."

  "I should if it had been the genuine letter," said Luke.

  "What!" gasped Browning.

  "It was only a copy, as you will be glad to hear."

  "Boy, I think you are deceiving me," said Browning, sharply.

  "Not at all! I left the genuine letter in the hands of my lawyer."

  "Your lawyer?"

  "Yes. I have put this matter in the hands of Mr. Jordan, of thiscity."

  Mr. Browning looked very much disturbed. Mr. Jordan was a well-knownand eminent attorney. Moreover, he was opposed in politics to thewould-be mayor. If his opponent should get hold of this discreditablechapter in his past history, his political aspirations might as wellbe given up. Again he asked himself, "How much of the story does thisboy know?"