Luke Walton

by Jr. Horatio Alger

  "Mr. Browning is a man of very peculiar appearance," said Kean.

  "You refer to the wart on the upper part of his right cheek?"

  "Yes, it gives him a repulsive look."

  "And yet he is popular in Milwaukee?"

  "Yes, among those who were not swindled by his mining scheme. He hasdone more harm than he can ever repair. For instance," added the youngman, bitterly, "this crime which I have committed--I will call it byits right name--I was impelled to do by my mother's poverty, broughton by him."

  "How does it happen that you are not at the office to day?"

  "I felt sick--sick at heart, rather than sick in body, and I sent wordto my employer that I could not be there. I dread entering the office,for at any time exposure may come."

  "If you could only raise the fifty dollars, you could replace themoney before it was inquired for."

  Ambrose Kean shook his head.

  "I can't possibly raise it," he said, despondently.

  "I would let you have it if I possessed as much money, but, as you maysuppose, I am poor."

  "I am no less grateful to you, Luke. You have a good heart, I am sure.You don't despise me?"

  "No, why should I?"

  "I have been guilty of a crime."

  "But you are sorry for it. Is there positively no one with whom youare acquainted who is rich enough to help you?"

  "There is one lady in Chicago--a rich lady--who was a schoolmate of mymother. She was older and in better circumstances, but they were goodfriends."

  "Who is this lady?"

  "A Mrs. Merton."

  "Mrs. Merton!" exclaimed Luke, in excitement. "Of Prairie Avenue?"

  "Yes; I believe she lives there."

  "Why, I know her--I am in her employ," said Luke.

  Ambrose Kean stared at Luke in open amazement.

  "Is this true?" he asked.

  "Yes."

  "Is she a kind lady? Do you think she would help me in this trouble ofmine?"

  "She is very kind-hearted, as I know from my own experience. I will goto her at once, and see what I can do."

  Ambrose Kean grasped Luke's hand with fervor.

  "You are a friend sent from heaven, I truly believe," he said. "Youhave given me hope of retrieving myself."

  "I will leave you for a time," said Luke. "There is no time to belost."

  "I shall be full of anxiety till I see you again."

  "Be hopeful. I think I shall bring you good news."

  When Luke reached the house on Prairie Avenue he was about to ring thebell when Harold Tracy opened the door.

  "You here again!" he said, in a tone of displeasure. "Weren't you herethis morning?"

  "Yes."

  "Did Aunt Eliza ask you to come this afternoon?"

  "No."

  "Then what brings you?"

  "Business," answered Luke, curtly, and he quietly entered the hall,and said to a servant who was passing through, "Will you be kindenough to ask Mrs. Merton if she will see me?"

  "Well, you're cheeky!" ejaculated Harold, who had in tended to keephim out.

  "As long as Mrs. Merton doesn't think so, I shall not trouble myself,"said Luke, coldly.

  "Sooner or later Aunt Eliza will see you in your true colors," saidHarold, provoked.

  "I think she does now."

  At this moment the servant returned.

  "You are to go upstairs," she said. "Mrs. Merton will see you."

  The old lady was sitting back in an easy-chair when Luke entered. Shesmiled pleasantly.

  "This is an unexpected pleasure," she said, "this after-noon call."

  "I will tell you at once what brought me, Mrs. Merton."

  "It isn't sickness at home, I hope?"

  "No, I came for a comparative stranger."

  Then Luke told the story of Ambrose Kean, his sudden yielding totemptation, his repentance and remorse.

  "I am interested in your friend," said Mrs. Merton. "You say heappropriated fifty dollars?"

  "Yes, but it was to help his mother."

  "True, but it was a dangerous step to take. It won't be considered avalid excuse."

  "He realizes all that. His employer is a just but strict man, and ifthe theft is discovered Kean will be arrested, and, of course,convicted."

  "And you think I will help him? Is that why you have come to me withthis story?"

  "I don't think I would have done so if he had not mentioned you as anold friend and schoolmate of his mother."

  "What's that?" added Mrs. Merton, quickly. "His mother an oldschoolmate of mine?"

  "That is what he says."

  "What was her name before marriage?"

  "Mary Robinson."

  "You don't say so!" Mrs. Merton exclaimed with vivacity. "Why, Marywas my favorite at school. And this young man is her son?

  "I would have helped him without knowing this, but now I won'thesitate a moment. Mary's boy! You must bring him here. I want toquestion him about her."

  "I can tell you something about her. She lost her money by investingin a California mine--I think it was the Excelsior Mine."

  "She, too?"

  Luke looked surprised. He did not understand the meaning of thisexclamation.

  "I have a thousand shares of that worthless stock myself," continuedthe old lady. "It cost me two thousand dollars, and now it is worthnothing."

  "The one who introduced the stock was a Mr. Browning, of Milwaukee."

  "I know. He was an unscrupulous knave, I have no doubt. I could affordthe loss, but hundreds invested, like poor Mary, who were ruined. Isthe man living, do you know?"

  "Yes, he is living in Milwaukee. He is rich, and is prominently spokenof as a candidate for mayor."

  "If he is ever a candidate I will take care that his connection withthis swindling transaction is made known. A man who builds up afortune on the losses of the poor is a contemptible wretch, in myopinion."

  "And mine, too," said Luke. "It is very strange that he answers thedescription of a man who cheated our family out of ten thousanddollars."

  "Indeed! How was that?"

  Luke told the story, and Mrs. Merton listened with great interest.

  "So all corresponds except the name?"

  "Yes."

  "He may have changed his name."

  "I have thought of that. I mean to find out some time."

  "I won't keep you any longer. Your friend is, no doubt, in greatanxiety. I have the money here in bills. I will give them to you forhim."

  Mrs. Merton was in the act of handing a roll of bills to Luke when thedoor opened suddenly, and Mrs. Tracy entered.

  She frowned in surprise and displeasure when she saw her aunt givingmoney to "that boy," as she contemptuously called him.

  CHAPTER XXII

  HOW AMBROSE KEAN WAS SAVED

  "I didn't know you were occupied, Aunt Eliza," said Mrs. Tracy, in asignificant tone, as she paused at the door.

  "My business is not private," returned the old lady. "Come in,Louisa."

  Mrs. Tracy did come in, but she regarded Luke with a hostile andsuspicious glance.

  "That is all, Luke," said his patroness. "You may go. You can reportto me to-morrow."

  "All right, ma'am."

  When Luke had left the room, Mrs. Tracy said: "You appear to repose agreat deal of confidence in that boy."

  "Yes; I think he deserves it."

  Mrs. Tracy coughed.

  "You seem to trust him with a great deal of money."

  "Yes."

  "Of course, I don't want to interfere, but I think you will need to beon your guard. He is evidently bent on getting all he can out ofyou."

  "That is your judgment, is it, Louisa?"

  "Yes. Aunt Eliza, since you ask me."

  "He has done me a service this morning. He has brought to my notice ason of one of my old school mates who is in a strait, and I have justsent him fifty dollars."

  "By that boy?"

  "Yes. Why not?"

  "Are you sure the person to wh
om you sent the money will ever getit?"

  "Please speak out what you mean. Don't hint. I hate hints."

  "In plain terms, then, I think the boy will keep the money himself,or, at any rate, a part of it."

  "I don't fear it."

  "Have you any more to say?"

  "Nothing, except to warn you against that designing boy."

  "You are very kind, Louisa, but I am not quite a simpleton. I haveseen something of the world, and I don't think I am easily taken in."

  Mrs. Tracy left the room, not very well satisfied. She really thoughtLuke had designs upon the old lady's money, and was averse even to hisreceiving a legacy, since it would take so much from Harold andherself.

  "Harold, when I entered your aunt's room, what do you think I saw?"

  This she said to Harold, who was waiting below.

  "I don't know."

  "Aunt Eliza was giving money to that boy."

  "Do you know how much?"

  "Fifty dollars."

  "Whew! Was it for himself?"

  "He came to her with a trumped-up story of an old schoolmate of aunt'swho was in need of money."

  "Do you think he will keep it himself?"

  "I am afraid so."

  "What a cheeky young rascal he is, to be sure! I have no doubt you areright."

  "Yes; there is too much reason to think he is an unscrupulousadventurer, young as he is."

  "Why don't you tell aunt so?"

  "I have."

  "And what does she say?"

  "It doesn't make the least impression upon her."

  "What do you think the boy will do?"

  "Get her to make a will in his favor, or at least to leave him a largelegacy."

  Harold turned pale.

  "That would be robbing us," he said.

  "Of course it would. He wouldn't mind that, you know."

  "He was very impertinent to me this morning."

  "I presume so. He depends upon his favor with aunt."

  "Isn't there anything we can do, mother?"

  "I must consider."

  Meanwhile Luke returned at once to the room of Ambrose Kean. He foundthe young man awaiting him with great anxiety.

  "What success?" he asked, quickly.

  "I have got the fifty dollars," answered Luke.

  "Thank God! I am saved!" ejaculated the young man.

  "Would you mind taking it round to the office with a note from me?"asked Kean.

  "I will do so cheerfully."

  "Then I shall feel at ease."

  "Mrs. Merton would like to have you call on her. She remembered yourmother at once."

  "I shall be glad to do so, but shall be ashamed to meet her now thatshe knows of my yielding to temptation."

  "You need not mind that. She also suffered from the rascality ofThomas Browning, and she will make allowances for you."

  "Then I will go some day with you."

  "You had better give me a letter to take to your employer with themoney."

  "I will."

  Ambrose Kean wrote the following note:

  JAMES COOPER:

  DEAR SIR:--Hiram Crossley called at the office yesterday and paid infifty dollars due to you. Being busy, I thrust it into my pocket, andinadvertently took it with me. I think I shall be able to be at theoffice to-morrow, but think it best to send the money by a youngfriend. I gave Mr. Crossley a receipt.

  Yours respectfully, AMBROSE KEAN.

  When Luke reached the office, Mr. Cooper was conversing with a stout,broad-shouldered man, of middle age, and Luke could not help hearingsome of their conversation.

  "You say you paid fifty dollars to my clerk, Mr. Crossley?" asked themerchant.

  "Yes."

  "Have you his receipt?"

  "Here it is."

  Mr. Cooper examined it.

  "Yes, that is his signature."

  "Isn't he here to-day?"

  "No; he sent word that he had a headache."

  "And you don't find the money?"

  "No."

  "That is singular." And the two men exchanged glances of suspicion.

  "What sort of a young man is he?"

  "I never had any cause to suspect him."

  "I hope it is all right."

  "If it isn't, I will discharge him," said Cooper, noddingemphatically.

  "He probably didn't think I would be here so soon. I didn't expect tobe, but a telegram summoned me to the city on other business."

  Of course Luke understood that the conversation related to Kean, andthat he had arrived none too soon. He came forward.

  "I have a letter for you from Mr. Kean," he said.

  "Ha! Give it to me!"

  Mr. Cooper tore open the envelope, saw the bank bills, and read theletter.

  "It's all right, Mr. Crossley," he said, his brow clearing. "Read thatletter."

  "I am really glad," said Crossley.

  "How is Mr. Kean?" asked Cooper, in a friendly tone.

  "He had a severe headache, but he is better, and hopes to be at theoffice to-morrow."

  "Tell him I shall be glad to see him, but don't want him to comeunless he is really able."

  "Thank you, sir. I will do so." And Luke left the office.

  He went back to Ambrose Kean, and told him what had happened at theoffice.

  "I have escaped better than I deserved," he said. "It will be a lessonto me. Please tell Mrs. Merton that her timely aid has saved myreputation and rescued my poor mother from sorrow and destitution."

  "I will, and I am sure she will consider the money well spent."

  The next morning, as Luke stood at his usual post, he saw ThomasBrowning, of Milwaukee, come out of the Sherman House. He knew him atonce by the wart on the upper part of his right cheek, which gave hima remarkable appearance.

  "Can there be two persons answering this description?" Luke askedhimself.

  Thomas Browning came across the street, and paused in front of Luke.

  CHAPTER XXIII

  STEPHEN WEBB IS PUZZLED

  "Will you have a morning paper?" asked Luke.

  He wanted to have a few words with Mr. Browning, even upon anindifferent subject, as he now thought it probable that this was theman who had defrauded his mother and himself.

  Browning, too, on his part, wished for an opportunity to speak withthe son of the man he had so shamefully swindled.

  "Yes," he said, abruptly, "you may give me the _Times._"

  When the paper had been paid for, he said:

  "Do you make a good living at selling papers?"

  "It gives me about seventy-five cents a day," answered Luke.

  "You can live on that, I suppose?"

  "I have a mother to support."

  "That makes a difference. Why do you stay in Chicago? You could make abetter living farther West."

  "In California?" asked Luke, looking intently at Browning.

  Thomas Browning started.

  "What put California into your head?" he asked.

  "My father died in California."

  "A good reason for your not going there."

  "I thought you might be able to tell me something about California,"continued Luke.

  "Why should I?"

  "I thought perhaps you had been there."

  "You are right," said Browning, after a pause. "I made a brief trip toSan Francisco at one time. It was on a slight matter of business. ButI don't know much about the interior and can't give you advice."

  "I wonder if this is true," thought Luke. "He admits having been toCalifornia, but says he has never been in the interior. If that is thecase, he can't have met my father."

  "I may at some time have it in my power to find you a place fartherWest, but not in California," resumed Browning. "I will take it intoconsideration. I frequently come to Chicago, and I presume you are tobe found here."

  "Yes, sir."

  Thomas Browning waved his hand by way of good-by, and continued on hisway.

  "The boy seems sharp," he said to himself.
"If he had the slightesthint of my connection with his father's money, he looks as if he wouldfollow it up. Luckily there is no witness and no evidence. No one canprove that I received the money."

  At the corner of Adams Street Mr. Browning encountered his nephew,Stephen Webb, who was gazing in at a window with a cigar in his mouth,looking the very image of independent leisure.

  "You are profitably employed," said Browning, dryly.

  Stephen Webb wheeled round quickly.

  "Glad to see you, Uncle Thomas," he said, effusively. "I suppose youreceived my letter?"

  "Yes."

  "I hope you are satisfied. I had hard work to find out about theboy."

  "Humph! I don't see how there could be anything difficult about it. Ihope you didn't mention my name?"

  "No. I suppose you are interested in the boy," said Stephen, with alook of curious inquiry.

  "Yes; I always feel interested in the poor, and those who requireassistance."

  "I am glad of that, uncle, for you have a poor nephew."

  "And a lazy one," said Browning, sharply. "Where would I be if I hadbeen as indolent as you?"

  "I am sure I am willing to do whatever you require, Uncle Thomas. Haveyou any instructions?"

  "Well, not just now, except to let me know all you can learn about thenewsboy. Has he any other source of income except selling papers?"