Luke Walton

"I don't understand it," he said. "I never saw that pocketbook before in my life."

"Please hand it to me."

Luke did so.

"Yes, that is the identical pocketbook," said the old lady.

"And it came from my pocket?"

Yes."

"Is there any money in it, Mrs. Merton."

Mrs. Merton opened it, and shook her head. That has been taken out," she answered.

"I hope you won't think I took the money," said Luke, with a troubled look.

"I know you did not. It was taken while we were out together yesterday. The last thing before I left the house I locked the drawer, and the pocketbook with the money inside was there. When I returned it was gone."

"That is very mysterious. I don't understand how the pocketbook came in my pocket."

"Someone must have put it there who wished you to be suspected of the theft."

"Yes," said Luke, eagerly. "I see."

Then he stopped suddenly, for what he was about to say would throw suspicion upon Harold.

"Well, go on!"

"I don't know that I ought to speak. It might throw suspicion on an innocent person."

"Speak! It is due to me. I will judge on that point. Who has had the chance of putting the wallet into your pocket?"

"I will speak if you insist upon it, Mrs. Merton," said Luke, reluctantly. "A few minutes since I met Harold on the street. We were bound in opposite directions. He surprised me by stopping me, and addressing me quite cordially. We stood talking together two or three minutes."

"Did he have an opportunity of putting the wallet in your pocket?"

"He might have done so, but I was not conscious of it."

"Let me think!" said the old lady, slowly. "Harold knew where I kept my money, for I opened the drawer in his presence the other day, and he saw me take a bill from the pocketbook. I did not think him capable of robbing me."

"Perhaps he did not," said Luke. "It may be explained in some other way."

"Can you think of any other way?" asked the old lady.

"Suppose a servant had taken the money, and left the pocketbook somewhere where Harold found it – "

"Even in that case, why should he put it in your pocket?"

"He does not like me. He might wish to throw suspicion upon me."

"That would be very mean."

"I think it would, but still he might not be a thief."

"I would sooner excuse a thief. It is certainly disreputable to steal, but it is not necessarily mean or contemptible. Trying to throw suspicion on an innocent person would be both."

Luke remained silent, for nothing occurred to him to say. He did not wish to add to Mrs. Merton's resentment against Harold.

After a moment's thought the old lady continued: "Leave the pocketbook with me, and say nothing about what has happened till I give you leave."

"Very well."

Mrs. Merton took the pocketbook, replaced it in the drawer, and carefully locked it.

"Someone must have a key that will open this drawer," she said. "I should like to know who it is."

"Do you think anyone will open it again?" asked Luke.

"No; it will be supposed that I will no longer keep money there. I think, however, I will sooner or later find out who opened it."

"I hope it won't prove to be Harold."

"I hope so, too. I would not like to think so near a relative a thief. Well, Luke, I won't detain you here any longer. You may come to-morrow, as usual."

"It is lucky Mrs. Merton has confidence in me," thought Luke. "Otherwise she might have supposed me to be the thief. What a mean fellow Harold Tracy is, to try to have an innocent boy suspected of such a crime."

As he was going out of the front door, Mrs. Tracy entered.

She cast a withering glance at Luke.

"Have you seen my aunt this morning?" she asked.

"Yes, madam."

"I wonder you had the face to stand in her presence."

It must be said, in justification of Mrs. Tracy, that she really believed that Luke had stolen Mrs. Merton's money.

"I know of no reason why I should not," said Luke, calmly. "Will you be kind enough to explain what you mean?"

"You know well enough," retorted Mrs. Tracy, nodding her head venomously.

"Mrs. Merton appears to be well satisfied with me," said Luke, quietly. "When she is not, she will tell me so, and I shall never come again."

"You are the most brazen boy I know of. Why it is that my aunt is so infatuated with you, I can't for my part, pretend to understand."

"If you will allow me, I will bid you good-morning," said Luke, with quiet dignity.

Mrs. Tracy did not reply, and Luke left the house.

"If I ever hated and despised a boy, it is that one!" said Mrs. Tracy to herself as she went upstairs to remove her street dress. "I wish I could strip the mask from him, and get aunt to see him in his real character. He is a sly, artful young adventurer. Ah, Felicie, come and assist me. By the way, I want you to watch that boy who has just gone out?"

"Luke Walton?"

"Yes; of course you have heard of my aunt's loss. I suspect that this Luke Walton is the thief."

"Is it possible, madam? Have you any evidence?"

"No; but we may find some. What do you think?"

"I haven't thought much about the matter. It seems to me very mysterious."

When Felicie left the presence of her mistress she smiled curiously.

"What would Madam Tracy say if she knew it was her own son?" she soliloquized. "He is a young cur, but she thinks him an angel."

CHAPTER XXXIV

HAROLD MAKES A PURCHASE

Harold had been compelled to give up half his money, but he still had thirty dollars left. How should he invest it? That was the problem that occupied his thoughts. Thus far he had not derived so much satisfaction from the possession of the money as he had anticipated. One thing, at any rate, he resolved. He would not spend it upon others, but wholly upon himself.

He stepped into a billiard saloon to enjoy his favorite pastime. In the absence of any companion he played a game with a man employed in the establishment, and, naturally, got beaten, though he was given odds. At the end of an hour he owed sixty cents, and decided not to continue.

"You play too well for me," he said, in a tone of disappointment.

"You had bad luck," answered his opponent, soothingly. "However, I can more than make it up to you."

"How?" inquired Harold, becoming interested.

"A friend of mine has pawned his watch for fifteen dollars. It is a valuable gold watch – cost seventy-five. He could have got more on it, but expected to redeem it. He has been in bad luck, and finds it no use. He has put the ticket in my hands, and is willing to sell it for ten dollars. That will only make the watch cost twenty-five. It's a big bargain for somebody."

Harold was much interested. He had always wanted a gold watch, and had dropped more than one hint to that effect within the hearing of Aunt Eliza, but the old lady had always said: "When you are eighteen, it will be time enough to think of a gold watch. Till then, your silver watch will do."

Harold took a different view of the matter, and his desire for a gold watch had greatly increased since a school friend about his own age had one. For this reason he was considerably excited by the chance that seems to present itself.

"You are sure the watch is a valuable one?" he asked.

"Yes; I have seen it myself."

"Then why don't you buy the ticket yourself?"

"I haven't the money. If I had, I wouldn't let anybody else have it."

"Let me see the ticket."

The other produced it from his vest pocket, but, of course, this threw no light upon the quality of the watch.

"I can secure the watch, and have nearly five dollars left," thought Harold. "It is surely worth double the price it will cost me, and then I shall have something to show for my money."

On the other hand, his possession of the watch would excite surprise at home, and he would be called upon to explain how he obtained it. This, however, did not trouble Harold.

"I've a great mind to take it," he said, slowly.

"You can't do any better. To tell the truth, I hate to let it go, but I don't see any prospect of my being able to get it out myself, and my friend needs the money."

Harold hesitated a moment, then yielded to the inducement offered.

"Give me the ticket," he said. "Here is the money."

As he spoke, he produced a ten-dollar bill. In return, the ticket was handed to him.

The pawnbroker, whose name was found on the ticket, was located less than fifteen minutes walk from the billiard saloon. Harold, eager to secure the watch, went directly there.

"Well, young man, what can I do for you?" asked a small man, with wrinkled face and blinking eyes.

"I want to redeem my watch. Here is the ticket."

The old man glanced at the ticket, then went to a safe, and took out the watch. Here were kept the articles of small bulk and large value.

Harold took out fifteen dollars which he had put in his vest pocket for the purpose, and tendered them to the pawnbroker.

"I want a dollar and a half more," said the old man.

"What for?" asked Harold, in surprise.

"One month's interest. You don't think I do business for nothing, do you?"

"Isn't that high?" asked Harold, and not without reason.

"It's our regular charge, young man. Ten per cent a month – that's what we all charge."

This statement was correct. Though the New York pawnbroker is allowed to charge but three per cent a month, his Chicago associate charges more than three times as much.

There was nothing for it but to comply with the terms demanded, and Harold reluctantly handed out the extra sum.

"You ought to have a watch chain, my friend," said the pawnbroker.

"I should like one, but I cannot afford it."

"I can give you a superior article – rolled gold – for a dollar."

"Let me see it!"

The chain was displayed. It looked very well; and certainly set off the watch to better advantage.

Harold paid down the dollar, and went out of the pawn broker's with a gold watch, and chain of the same color, with only two dollars left of his ill-gotten money. This was somewhat inconvenient, but he rejoiced in the possession of the watch and chain.

"Now Ralph Kennedy can't crow over me," he soliloquized. "I've got a gold watch as well as he."

As he left the pawnbroker's, he did not observe a familiar face and figure on the opposite side of the street. It was Warner Powell, his mother's brother, who recognized, with no little surprise, his nephew, coming from such a place.

"What on earth has carried Harold to a pawn broker's?" he asked himself.

Then he caught sight of the watch chain, and got a view of the watch, as Harold drew it out ostentatiously to view his new acquisition.

"There is some mystery here," he said to himself. "I must investigate."

He waited till Harold was at a safe distance, then crossed the street, and entered the pawnbroker's.

"There was a boy just went out of here," he said to the old man.

"Suppose there was," returned the pawnbroker, suspiciously.

"What was he doing here?"

"Is that any of your business?"

"My friend, I have nothing to do with you, and no complaint to make against you, but the boy is my nephew, and I want to know whether he got a watch and chain here."

"Yes; he presented a ticket, and I gave him the watch."

"Is it one he pawned himself?"

"I don't know. He had the ticket. I can't remember everybody that deals with me."

"Can you tell me how much the watch and chain were pawned for?"

"The watch was pawned for fifteen dollars. I sold him the chain for a dollar."

"All right. Thank you."

"It's all right?"

"Yes, so far as you are concerned. How long had the watch been in?"

"For three weeks."

Warner Powell left the shop, after obtaining all the information he required.

"It is Harold who robbed Aunt Eliza," he said to himself. "I begin to think my precious nephew is a rogue."

Meanwhile, Harold, eager to ascertain the value of his watch, stepped into a jeweler's.

"Can you tell me the value of this watch?" he inquired.

The jeweler opened it, and after a brief examination, said: "When new it probably cost thirty-five dollars."

Harold's countenance fell.

"I was told that it was a seventy-five dollar watch," he said.

"Then you were cheated."

"But how can such a large watch be afforded for thirty-five dollars?"

"It is low-grade gold, not over ten carats, and the works are cheap. Yet, it'll keep fair time."

Harold was very much disappointed.

CHAPTER XXXV

A SKILLFUL INVENTION

When he came to think it over, Harold gradually recovered his complacence. It was a gold watch, after all, and no one would know that the gold was low grade. He met one or two acquaintances, who immediately took notice of the chain and asked to see the watch. They complimented him on it, and this gave him satisfaction.

When he reached home, he went directly upstairs to his room, and only came down when he heard the supper bell.

As he entered the dining room his mother was the first to notice the watch chain.

"Have you been buying a watch chain, Harold?" she asked.

"I have something besides," said Harold, and he produced the watch.

Mrs. Tracy uttered an exclamation of surprise, and Mrs. Merton and Warner exchanged significant glances.

"How came you by the watch and chain?" asked Mrs. Tracy, uneasily.

"They were given to me," answered Harold.

"But that is very strange. Aunt Eliza, you have not given Harold a watch, have you?"

"No, Louisa. I think a silver watch is good enough for a boy of his age."

"Why don't you ask me, Louisa?" said Warner, smiling.

"I don't imagine your circumstances will admit of such a gift."

"You are right. I wish they did. Harold, we are all anxious to know the name of the benevolent individual who has made you such a handsome present. If you think he has any more to spare, I should be glad if you would introduce me."

"I will explain," said Harold, glibly. "I was walking along Dearborn Street about two o'clock, when I saw a gentleman a little in advance of me. He had come from the Commercial Bank, I judge, for it was not far from there I came across him. By some carelessness he twitched a wallet stuffed with notes from his pocket. A rough-looking fellow sprang to get it, but I was too quick for him. I picked it up, and hurrying forward, handed it to the gentleman. He seemed surprised and pleased.

"'My boy,' he said, 'you have done me a great service. That wallet contained fifteen hundred dollars. I should have lost it but for you. Accept this watch and chain as a mark of my deep gratitude.'

"With that, he took the watch from his pocket, and handed it to me. I was not sure whether I ought to take it, but I have long wanted a gold watch, and he seemed well able to afford the gift, so I took it."

Mrs. Tracy never thought of doubting this plausible story.

"Harold," she said, "I am proud of you. I think there was no objection to accepting the watch. What do you say, Aunt Eliza?"

"Let me look at the watch, Harold," said the old lady, not replying to her niece's question.

Harold passed it over complacently. He rather plumed himself on the ingenious story he had invented.

"What do you think of it, Warner?" asked Mrs. Merton, passing it to her nephew.

"It is rather a cheap watch for a rich man to carry," answered Warner, taking it in his hand and opening it.

"I am sure it is quite a handsome watch," said Mrs. Tracy.

"Yes, it is large and showy, but it is low-grade gold."

"Of course, I don't know anything about that," said Harold. "At any rate, it is gold and good enough for me."

"No doubt of that," said the old lady, dryly.

"Rich men don't always carry expensive watches," said Mrs. Tracy. "They are often plain in their tastes."

"This watch is rather showy," said Warner. "It can't be called plain."

"At any rate, Harold has reason to be satisfied. I am glad he obtained the watch in so creditable a manner. If it had been your protege, Aunt Eliza, I suspect he would have kept the money,"

"I don't think so, Louisa," said Mrs. Merton, quietly. "I have perfect confidence in Luke's honesty."

"In spite of your lost pocketbook?"

"Yes; there is nothing to connect Luke with that."

Harold thought he ought to get the advantage of the trick played upon Luke in the morning.

"I don't know as I ought to say anything," he said, hesitating, "but I met Luke this morning, and if I am not very much mistaken, I saw in his pocket a wallet that looked very much like aunt's. You know he wears a sack coat, and has a pocket on each side."

Again Mrs. Merton and Warner exchanged glances.

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

"No."

"Why not?"

"I thought he might be innocent, and I didn't want to bring a false charge 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 was aunt'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, in a positive tone. "He is the person most likely to take the money, and this 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 have been favorably impressed by what I have seen of the boy."

"At any rate, I think Aunt Eliza ought to question him sternly, not accepting any evasion or equivocation. He has been guilty of base ingratitude."

"Supposing him to be guilty?"

"Yes, of course."

"I intend to investigate the matter," said the old lady. "What do you think, 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 the old lady. "Harold has not wholly gratified our curiosity as to the watch and chain. Do you know, Harold, who the gentleman is to whom you rendered 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, I don'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. Warner accompanied 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 out of the shop, and going in, questioned the pawnbroker. He must have got the 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 his first offense: I feel like being charitable, for I have been in the same scrape."

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

CHAPTER XXXVI

WARNER POWELL STARTS ON A JOURNEY

Thanks to the liberal compensation received from Mrs. Merton, Luke was enabled to supply his mother and Bennie with all the comforts they required, and even to put by two dollars a week. This he did as a measure of precaution, for he did not know how long the engagement at the house on Prairie Avenue would last. If he were forced to fall back on his earnings as a newsboy, the family would fare badly. This might happen, for he found himself no nearer securing the favor of Harold and his mother. The manner of the latter was particularly unpleasant when they met, and Harold scarcely deigned to speak to him. On the other hand, Warner Powell showed himself very friendly. He often took the opportunity to join Luke when he was leaving the house, and chat pleasantly with him. Luke enjoyed his companionship, because Warner was able to tell him about Australia and California, with both of which countries Mrs. Tracy's brother was familiar.

"Mother," said Harold, one day, "Uncle Warner seems very thick with that 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 might find a more congenial and suitable companion than Aunt Eliza's hired boy. I will speak to him about it."

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

"Listen, Louisa," said Warner, "don't you think I am old enough to choose 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 treat him with cordiality."

"You are blind as a mole!" said Mrs. Tracy, passionately. "You can't see 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 to my opinion."

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

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

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

Mrs. Tracy bit her lip, and was compelled to give up her attempt to secure her brother's allegiance. She contented herself with treating him 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. Harold has reported this to his mother, and the result is a lecture as to the choice 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 not to say this, for Harold is my nephew and they say blood is thicker than water. However, it is a fact, nevertheless, that I like Luke the better of the two."

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

"I think, aunt, you are shrewd enough to guess the reason without appealing to me."

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

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

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

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

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