Struggling Upward, or Luke Larkin's Luck

"You can come with me and welcome. I shall be glad of your company.

Are you alone?"

"Yes."

"Seems to me you're rather a young chap to come out here alone."

"I suppose I am," returned Luke, smiling, "but there was no one else to come with me. If I find Mr. Harding, I shall be all right."

"I can promise you that. It ain't likely he has got up from his sick-bed and left the mines. I reckon you'll find him flat on his back, as I left him."

Luke learned that his mining friend was known as Jack Baxter. He seemed a sociable and agreeable man, though rather rough in his outward appearance and manners. The next morning they started in company, and were compelled to travel all day. Toward sunset they reached the place known as Fenton's Gulch. It was a wild and dreary-looking place, but had a good reputation for its yield of gold dust.

"That's where you'll find the man you're after," said Baxter, pointing to a dilapidated cabin, somewhat to the left of the mines.

Luke went up to the cabin, the door of which was open, and looked in.

On a pallet in the corner lay a tall man, pale and emaciated. He heard the slight noise at the door, and without turning his head, said: "Come in, friend, whoever you are."

Upon this, Luke advanced into the cabin.

"Is this Mr. James Harding?" he asked.

The sick man turned his head, and his glance rested with surprise upon the boy of sixteen who addressed him.

"Have I seen you before?" he asked.

"No, sir. I have only just arrived at the Gulch. You are Mr.

Harding?"

"Yes, that is my name; but how did you know it?"

"I am here in search of you, Mr. Harding."

"How is that?" asked the sick man, quickly. "Is my sister sick?"

"Not that I know of. I come from Mr. Armstrong, in New York."

"You come from Mr. Armstrong?" repeated the sick man, in evident surprise. "Have you any message for me from him?"

"Yes, but that can wait. I am sorry to find you sick. I hope that it is nothing serious."

"It would not be serious if I were in a settlement where I could obtain a good doctor and proper medicines. Everything is serious here. I have no care or attention, and no medicines."

"Do you feel able to get away from here? It would be better for you to be at Deadwood than here."

"If I had anyone to go with me, I might venture to start for Deadwood."

"I am at your service, Mr. Harding."

The sick man looked at Luke with a puzzled expression.

"You are very kind," he said, after a pause. "What is your name?"

"Luke Larkin."

"And you know Mr. Armstrong?"

"Yes. I am his messenger."

"But how came he to send a boy so far? It is not like him."

Luke laughed.

"No doubt you think him unwise," he said. "The fact was, he took me for lack of a better. Besides, the mission was a confidential one, and he thought he could trust me, young as I am."

"You say you have a message for me?" queried Harding.

"Yes!"

"What is it?"

"First, can I do something for your comfort? Can't I get you some breakfast?"

"The message first."

"I will give it at once. Do you remember purchasing some government bonds for Mr. Armstrong a short time before you left his employment?"

"Yes. What of them?"

"Have you preserved the numbers of the bonds?" Luke inquired, anxiously.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because Mr. Armstrong has lost his list, and they have been stolen. Till he learns the numbers, he will stand no chance of identifying or recovering them."

"I am sure I have the numbers. Feel in the pocket of my coat yonder, and you will find a wallet. Take it out and bring it to me."

Luke obeyed directions.

The sick man opened the wallet and began to examine the contents.

Finally he drew out a paper, which he unfolded.

"Here is the list. I was sure I had them."

Luke's eyes lighted up with exultation.

It was clear that he had succeeded in his mission. He felt that he had justified the confidence which Mr. Armstrong had reposed in him, and that the outlay would prove not to have been wasted.

"May I copy them?" he asked.

"Certainly, since you are the agent of Mr. Armstrong—or you may have the original paper."

"I will copy them, so that if that paper is lost, I may still have the numbers. And now, what can I do for you?"

The resources of Fenton's Gulch were limited, but Luke succeeded in getting together materials for a breakfast for the sick man. The latter brightened up when he had eaten a sparing meal. It cheered him, also, to find that there was someone to whom he could look for friendly services.

To make my story short, on the second day he felt able to start with Luke for Deadwood, which he reached without any serious effect, except a considerable degree of fatigue.

Arrived at Deadwood, where there were postal facilities, Luke lost no time in writing a letter to Mr. Armstrong, enclosing a list of the stolen bonds. He gave a brief account of the circumstances under which he had found Mr. Harding, and promised to return as soon as he could get the sick man back to his farm in Minnesota.

When this letter was received, Roland Reed was in the merchant's office.

"Look at that, Mr. Reed," said Armstrong, triumphantly. "That boy is as smart as lightning. Some people might have thought me a fool for trusting so young a boy, but the result has justified me. Now my course is clear. With the help of these numbers I shall soon be able to trace the theft and convict the guilty party."

CHAPTER XXXV

BACK IN GROVETON

Meanwhile, some things occurred in Groveton which require to be chronicled. Since the visit of Tony Denton, and the knowledge that his secret was known, Prince Duncan had changed in manner and appearance. There was an anxious look upon his face, and a haggard look, which led some of his friends to think that his health was affected. Indeed, this was true, for any mental disturbance is likely to affect the body. By way of diverting attention from the cause of this altered appearance, Mr. Duncan began to complain of overwork, and to hint that he might have to travel for his health. It occurred to him privately that circumstances might arise which would make it necessary for him to go to Canada for a lengthened period.

With his secret in the possession of such a man as Tony Denton, he could not feel safe. Besides, he suspected the keeper of the billiard-room would not feel satisfied with the thousand-dollar bond he had extorted from him, but would, after awhile, call for more.

In this he was right.

Scarcely a week had elapsed since his first visit, when the servant announced one morning that a man wished to see him.

"Do you know who it is, Mary?" asked the squire.

"Yes, sir. It's Tony Denton."

Prince Duncan's face contracted, and his heart sank within him. He would gladly have refused to see his visitor, but knowing the hold that Tony had upon him, he did not dare offend him.

"You may tell him to come in," he said, with a troubled look.

"What can the master have to do with a man like that?" thought Mary, wondering. "I wouldn't let him into the house if I was a squire."

Tony Denton entered the room with an assumption of ease which was very disagreeable to Mr. Duncan.

"I thought I'd call to see you, squire," he said.

"Take a seat, Mr. Denton," said the squire coldly.

Tony did not seem at all put out by the coldness of his reception.

"I s'pose you remember what passed at our last meeting, Mr. Duncan," he said, in a jaunty way.

"Well, sir," responded Prince Duncan, in a forbidding tone.

"We came to a little friendly arrangement, if you remember," continued Denton.

"Well, sir, there is no need to refer to the matter now."

"Pardon me, squire, but I am obliged to keep to it."

"Why?"

"Because I've been unlucky??"

"I suppose, Mr. Denton," said the squire haughtily, "you are capable of managing your own business. If you don't manage it well, and meet with losses, I certainly am not responsible, and I cannot understand why you bring the matter to me."

"You see, squire," said Tony, with a grin, "I look upon you as a friend, and so it is natural that I should come to you for advice."

"I wish I dared kick the fellow out of the house," thought Prince Duncan. "He is a low scamp, and I don't like the reputation of having such visitors."

Under ordinary circumstances, and but for the secret which Tony possessed, he would not have been suffered to remain in the squire's study five minutes, but conscience makes cowards of us all, and Mr. Duncan felt that he was no longer his own master.

"I'll tell you about the bad luck, squire," Tony resumed. "You know the bond you gave me the last time I called?"

Mr. Duncan winced, and he did not reply.

"I see you remember it. Well, I thought I might have the luck to double it, so I went up to New York, and went to see one of them Wall Street brokers. I asked his advice, and he told me I'd better buy two hundred shares of some kind of stock, leaving the bond with him as margin. He said I was pretty sure to make a good deal of money, and I thought so myself. But the stock went down, and yesterday I got a letter from him, saying that the margin was all exhausted, and I must give him another, Or he would sell out the stock."

"Mr. Denton, you have been a fool!" exclaimed Mr. Duncan irritably.

"You might have known that would be the result of your insane folly.

You've lost your thousand dollars, and what have you got to show for it?"

"You may be right, squire, but I don't want to let the matter end so. I want you to give me another bond."

"You do, eh?" said Duncan indignantly. "So you want to throw away another thousand dollars, do you?"

"If I make good the margin, the stock'll go up likely, and I won't lose anything."

"You can do as you please, of course, but you will have to go elsewhere for your money."

"Will I?" asked Tony coolly. "There is no one else who would let me have the money."

"I won't let you have another cent, you may rely upon that!" exclaimed Prince Duncan furiously.

"I guess you'll think better of that, squire," said Tony, fixing his keen black eyes on the bank president.

"Why should I?" retorted Duncan, but his heart sank within him, for he understood very well what the answer would be.

"Because you know what the consequences of refusal would be," Denton answered coolly.

"I don't understand you," stammered the squire, but it was evident from his startled look that he did.

"I thought you would," returned Tony Denton quietly. "You know very well that my evidence would convict you, as the person who robbed the bank."

"Hush!" ejaculated Prince Duncan, in nervous alarm.

Tony Denton smiled with a consciousness of power.

"I have no wish to expose you," he said, "if you will stand my friend."

In that moment Prince Duncan bitterly regretted the false step he had taken. To be in the power of such a man was, indeed, a terrible form of retribution.

"Explain your meaning," he said reluctantly.

"I want another government bond for a thousand dollars."

"But when I gave you the first, you promised to preserve silence, and trouble me no more."

"I have been unfortunate, as I already explained to you."

"I don't see how that alters matters. You took the risk voluntarily.

Why should I suffer because you were imprudent and lost your money?"

"I can't argue with you, squire," said Tony, with an insolent smile. "You are too smart for me. All I have to say is, that I must have another bond."

"Suppose I should give it to you—what assurance have I that you will not make another demand?"

"I will give you the promise in writing, if you like."

"Knowing that I could not make use of any such paper with out betraying myself."

"Well, there is that objection, certainly, but I can't do anything better."

"What do you propose to do with the bond?"

"Deposit it with my broker, as I have already told you."

"I advise you not to do so. Make up your mind to lose the first, and keep the second in your own hands."

"I will consider your advice, squire."

But it was very clear that Tony Denton would not follow it.

All at once Prince Duncan brightened up. He had a happy thought. Should it be discovered that the bonds used by Tony Denton belonged to the contents of the stolen box, might he not succeed in throwing the whole blame on the billiard-saloon keeper, and have him arrested as the thief? The possession and use of the bonds would be very damaging, and Tony's reputation was not such as to protect him. Here seemed to be a rift in the clouds—and it was with comparative cheerfulness that Mr. Duncan placed the second bond in the hands of the visitor.

"Of course," he said, "it will be for your interest not to let any one know from whom you obtained this."

"All right. I understand. Well, good morning, squire; I'm glad things are satisfactory."

"Good morning, Mr. Denton."

When Tony had left the room, Prince Duncan threw himself back in his chair and reflected. His thoughts were busy with the man who had just left him, and he tried to arrange some method of throwing the guilt upon Denton. Yet, perhaps, even that would not be necessary. So far as Mr. Duncan knew, there was no record in Mr. Armstrong's possession of the numbers of the bonds, and in that case they would not be identified.

"If I only knew positively that the numbers would not turn up, I should feel perfectly secure, and could realize on the bonds at any time," he thought. "I will wait awhile, and I may see my way clear."

CHAPTER XXXVI

A LETTER FROM LUKE

"There's a letter for you, Linton," said Henry Wagner, as he met Linton Tomkins near the hotel. "I just saw your name on the list."

In the Groveton post-office, as in many country offices, it was the custom to post a list of those for whom letters had been received.

"It must be from Luke," thought Linton, joyfully, and he bent his steps immediately toward the office. No one in the village, outside of Luke's family, missed him more than Linton. Though Luke was two years and a half older, they had always been intimate friends. Linton's family occupied a higher social position, but there was nothing snobbish about Linton, as there was about Randolph, and it made no difference to him that Luke lived in a small and humble cottage, and, till recently, had been obliged to wear old and shabby clothes. In this democratic spirit, Linton was encouraged by his parents, who, while appreciating the refinement which is apt to be connected with liberal means, were too sensible to undervalue sterling merit and good character.

Linton was right. His letter was from Luke. It read thus:

"DEAR LINNY: I was very glad to receive your letter. It made me homesick for a short time. At any rate, it made me wish that I could be back for an hour in dear old Groveton. I cannot tell you where I am, for that is a secret of my employer. I am a long way from home; I can tell you that much. When I get home, I shall be able to tell you all. You will be glad to know that I have succeeded in the mission on which I was sent, and have revived a telegram of thanks from my employer.

"It will not be long now before I am back in Groveton. I wonder if my dear friend Randolph will be glad to see me? You can remember me to him when you see him. It will gratify him to know that I am well and doing well, and that my prospects for the future are excellent.

"Give my regards to your father and mother, who have always been kind to me. I shall come and see you the first thing after I return. If you only knew how hard I find it to refrain from telling you all, where I am and what adventures I have met with, how I came near being robbed twice, and many other things, you would appreciate my self-denial. But you shall know all very soon. I have had a good time—the best time in my life. Let mother read this letter, and believe me, dear Lin,

"Your affectionate friend,

"LUKE LARKIN."

Linton's curiosity was naturally excited by the references in Luke's letter.

"Where can Luke be?" he asked. "I wish he were at liberty to tell."

Linton never dreamed, however, that his friend was two thousand miles away, in the wild West. It would have seemed to him utterly improbable.

He was folding up the letter as he was walking homeward, when he met Randolph Duncan.

"What's that, Linton?" he asked. "A love-letter?"

"Not much; I haven't got so far along. It is a letter from Luke Larkin."

"Oh!" sneered Randolph. "I congratulate you on your correspondent.

Is he in New York?"

"The letter is postmarked in New York, but he is traveling."

"Traveling? Where is he traveling?"

"He doesn't say. This letter is forwarded by Mr. Reed."

"The man who robbed the bank?"

"What makes you say that? What proof have you that he robbed the bank?"

"I can't prove it, but my father thinks he is the robber. There was something very suspicious about that tin box which he handed to Luke."

"It was opened in court, and proved to contain private papers."

"Oh, that's easily seen through. He took out the bonds, and put in the papers. I suppose he has experience in that sort of thing."

"Does your father think that?"

"Yes, he does. What does Luke say?"

"Wait a minute, and I will read you a paragraph," said Linton, with a mischievous smile. Thereupon he read the paragraph in which Randolph was mentioned.

"What does he mean by calling me his dear friend?" exclaimed Randolph indignantly. "I never was his dear friend, and never want to be."

"I believe you, Randolph. Shall I tell you what he means?"

"Yes."

"He means it for a joke. He knows you don't like him, and he isn't breaking his heart over it."

"It's pretty cheeky in him! Just tell him when you write that he needn't call me his dear friend again."

"You might hurt his feelings," said Linton, gravely.

"That for his feelings!" said Randolph, with a snap of his fingers.

"You say he's traveling. Shall I tell you what I think he is doing?"

"If you like."

"I think he is traveling with a blacking-box in his hand. It's just the business for him."

"I don't think you are right. He wouldn't make enough in that way to pay traveling expenses. He says he has twice come near being robbed."

Randolph laughed derisively.

"A thief wouldn't make much robbing him," he said. "If he got twenty-five cents he'd be lucky."

"You forget that he has a nice silver watch?"

Randolph frowned. This with him was a sore reflection. Much as he was disposed to look down upon Luke, he was aware that Luke's watch was better than his, and, though he had importuned his father more than once to buy him a gold watch, he saw no immediate prospect of his wish being granted.

"Oh, well, I've talked enough of Luke Larkin," he said, snappishly. "He isn't worth so many words. I am very much surprised that a gentleman's son like you, Linton, should demean himself by keeping company with such a boy."

"There is no boy in the village whom I would rather associate with," said Linton, with sturdy friendship.

"I don't admire your taste, then," said Randolph. "I don't believe your father and mother like you to keep such company."

"There you are mistaken," said Linton, with spirit. "They have an excellent opinion of Luke, and if he should ever need a friend, I am sure my father would be willing to help him."

"Well, I must be going," said Randolph, by no means pleased with this advocacy of Luke. "Come round and see me soon. You never come to our house."

Linton answered politely, but did not mean to become intimate with Randolph, who was by no means to his taste. He knew that it was only his social position that won him the invitation, and that if his father should suddenly lose his property, Randolph's cordiality would be sensibly diminished. Such friendship, he felt, was not to be valued.

"What are you thinking about? You seem in a brown study," said a pleasant voice.

Looking up, Linton recognized his teacher, Mr. Hooper.

"I was thinking of Luke Larkin," answered Linton.

"By the by, where is Luke? I have not seen him for some time."

"He is traveling for Mr. Reed, I believe."

"The man who committed the tin box to his care?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you know where he is?"

"No, sir. I have just received a letter from him, but he says he is not at liberty to mention where he is."

"Will he be home soon?"

"Yes, I think so."

"I shall be glad to see him. He is one of the most promising of my pupils."

Linton's expressive face showed the pleasure he felt at this commendation of his friend. He felt more gratified than if Mr. Hooper had directly praised him.

"Luke can stand Randolph's depreciation," he reflected, "with such a friend as Mr. Hooper."

Linton was destined to meet plenty of acquaintances. Scarcely had he parted from Mr. Hooper, when Tony Denton met him. The keeper of the billiard-room was always on the alert to ingratiate himself with the young people of the village, looking upon them as possible patrons of his rooms. He would have been glad to draw in Linton, on account of his father's prominent position in the village.

"Good day, my young friend," he said, with suavity.

"Good day, Mr. Denton," responded Linton, who thought it due to himself to be polite, though he did not fancy Mr. Denton.

"I should be very glad to have you look in at my billiard-room, Mr. Linton," continued Tony.

"Thank you sir, but I don't think my father would like to have me visit a billiard-saloon—at any rate, till I am older."

"Oh, I'll see that you come to no harm. If you don't want to play, you can look on."

"At any rate, I am obliged to you for your polite invitation."

"Oh, I like to have the nice boys of the village around me. Your friend Randolph Duncan often visits me."

"So I have heard," replied Linton.

"Well, I won't keep you, but remember my invitation."

"I am not very likely to accept," thought Linton. "I have heard that Randolph visits the billiard-room too often for his good."

CHAPTER XXXVII

AN INCIDENT ON THE CARS

As soon as possible, Luke started on his return to New York. He had enjoyed his journey, but now he felt a longing to see home and friends once more. His journey to Chicago was uneventful. He stayed there a few hours, and then started on his way home. On his trip from Chicago to Detroit he fell in with an old acquaintance unexpectedly.

When about thirty miles from Detroit, having as a seatmate a very large man, who compressed him within uncomfortable limits, he took his satchel, and passing into the car next forward, took a seat a few feet from the door. He had scarcely seated himself when, looking around, he discovered, in the second seat beyond, his old Chicago acquaintance, Mr. J. Madison Coleman. He was as smooth and affable as ever, and was chatting pleasantly with a rough, farmerlike-looking man, who seemed very much taken with his attractive companion.

"I wonder what mischief Coleman is up to now?" thought Luke.

He was so near that he was able to hear the conversation that passed between them.

"Yes, my friend," said Mr. Coleman, "I am well acquainted with Detroit. Business has called me there very often, and it will give me great pleasure to be of service to you in any way."

"What business are you in?" inquired the other.

"I am traveling for H. B. Claflin & Co., of New York. Of course you have heard of them. They are the largest wholesale dry-goods firm in the United States."

"You don't say so!" returned the farmer respectfully. "Do you get pretty good pay?"

"I am not at liberty to tell just what pay I get," said Mr. Coleman, "but I am willing to admit that it is over four thousand dollars."

"You don't say so!" ejaculated the farmer. "My! I think myself pretty lucky when I make a thousand dollars a year."

"Oh, well, my dear sir, your expenses are very light compared to mine. I spend about ten dollars a day on an average."

"Jehu!" ejaculated the farmer. "Well, that is a pile. Do all the men that travel for your firm get as much salary as you?"

"Oh, no; I am one of the principal salesmen, and am paid extra. I am always successful, if I do say it myself, and the firm know it, and pay me accordingly. They know that several other firms are after me, and would get me away if they didn't pay me my price."