Alger Horatio Jr.
Struggling Upward, or Luke Larkin's Luck
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."
"I suppose you know all about investments, being a business man?"
"Yes, I know a great deal about them," answered Mr. Coleman, his eyes sparkling with pleasure at this evidence that his companion had money. "If you have any money to invest, I shall be very glad to advise you."
"Well, you see, I've just had a note for two hundred and fifty dollars paid in by a neighbor who's been owin' it for two years, and I thought I'd go up to Detroit and put it in the savings-bank."
"My good friend, the savings-bank pays but a small rate of interest. I think I know a business man of Detroit who will take your money and pay you ten per cent."
"Ten per cent.!" exclaimed the farmer joyfully. "My! I didn't think I could get over four or six."
"So you can't, in a general way," answered Coleman. "But business men, who are turning over their money once a month, can afford to pay a good deal more."
"But is your friend safe?" he inquired, anxiously.
"Safe as the Bank of England," answered Coleman. "I've lent him a thousand dollars at a time, myself, and always got principal and interest regularly. I generally have a few thousand invested," he added, in a matter-of-course manner.
"I'd be glad to get ten per cent.," said the farmer. "That would be twenty-five dollars a year on my money."
"Exactly. I dare say you didn't get over six per cent. on the note."
"I got seven, but I had to wait for the interest sometimes."
"You'll never have to wait for interest if you lend to my friend.
I am only afraid he won't be willing to take so small a sum. Still, I'll speak a good word for you, and he will make an exception in your favor."
"Thank you, sir," said the farmer gratefully. "I guess I'll let him have it."
"You couldn't do better. He's a high-minded, responsible man. I would offer to take the money myself, but I really have no use for it. I have at present two thousand dollars in bank waiting for investment."
"You don't say so!" said the farmer, eying Coleman with the respect due to so large a capitalist.
"Yes, I've got it in the savings-bank for the time being. If my friend can make use of it, I shall let him have it. He's just as safe as a savings-bank."
The farmer's confidence in Mr. Coleman was evidently fully established. The young man talked so smoothly and confidently that he would have imposed upon one who had seen far more of the world than Farmer Jones.
"I'm in luck to fall in with you, Mr.—"
"Coleman," said the drummer, with suavity. "J. Madison Coleman. My grandfather was a cousin of President James Madison, and that accounts for my receiving that name."
The farmer's respect was further increased. It was quite an event to fall in with so near a relative of an illustrious ex-President, and he was flattered to find that a young man of such lineage was disposed to treat him with such friendly familiarity.
"Are you going to stay long in Detroit?" asked the farmer.
"Two or three days. I shall be extremely busy, but I shall find time to attend to your business. In fact, I feel an interest in you, my friend, and shall be glad to do you a service."
"You are very kind, and I'm obleeged to you," said the farmer gratefully.
"Now, if you will excuse me for a few minutes, I will go into the smoking-car and have a smoke."
When he had left the car, Luke immediately left his seat, and went forward to where the farmer was sitting.
"Excuse me," he said, "but I saw you talking to a young man just now."
"Yes," answered the farmer complacently, "he's a relative of President Madison."
"I want to warn you against him. I know him to be a swindler."
"What!" exclaimed the farmer, eying Luke suspiciously. "Who be you?
You're nothing but a boy."
"That is true, but I am traveling on business. This Mr. Coleman tried to rob me about a fortnight since, and nearly succeeded. I heard him talking to you about money."
"Yes, he was going to help me invest some money I have with me. He said he could get me ten per cent."
"Take my advice, and put it in a savings-bank. Then it will be safe. No man who offers to pay ten per cent. for money can be relied upon."
"Perhaps you want to rob me yourself?" said the farmer suspiciously.
"Do I look like it?" asked Luke, smiling. "Isn't my advice good, to put the money in a savings-bank? But I will tell you how I fell in with Mr. Coleman, and how he tried to swindle me, and then you can judge for yourself."
This Luke did briefly and his tone and manner carried conviction. The farmer became extremely indignant at the intended fraud, and promised to have nothing to do with Coleman.
"I will take my old seat, then," said Luke. "I don't want Coleman to know who warned you."
Presently, Coleman came back and was about to resume his seat beside the farmer.
"You see I have come back," he said.
"You needn't have troubled yourself," said the farmer, with a lowering frown. "You nearly took me in with your smooth words, but I've got my money yet, and I mean to keep it. Your friend can't have it."
"What does all this mean, my friend?" asked Coleman, in real amazement. "Is it possible you distrust me? Why, I was going to put myself to inconvenience to do you a service."
"Then you needn't. I know you. You wanted to swindle me out of my two hundred and fifty dollars."
"Sir, you insult me!" exclaimed Coleman, with lofty indignation. "What do I—a rich man—want of your paltry two hundred and fifty dollars?"
"I don't believe you are a rich man. Didn't I tell you, I have been warned against you?"
"Who dared to talk against me?" asked Coleman indignantly. Then, casting his eyes about, he noticed Luke for the first time. Now it was all clear to him.
Striding up to Luke's seat, he said threateningly, "Have you been talking against me, you young jackanapes?"
"Yes, Mr. Coleman, I have," answered Luke steadily. "I thought it my duty to inform this man of your character. I have advised him to put his money into a savings-bank."
"Curse you for an impertinent meddler!" said Coleman wrathfully.
"I'll get even with you for this!"
"You can do as you please," said Luke calmly.
Coleman went up to the farmer and said, abruptly, "You've been imposed upon by an unprincipled boy. He's been telling you lies about me."
"He has given me good advice," said the farmer sturdily, "and I shall follow it."
"You are making a fool of yourself!"
"That is better than to be made fool of, and lose my money."
Coleman saw that the game was lost, and left the car. He would gladly have assaulted Luke, but knew that it would only get him into trouble.
CHAPTER XXXVIII
LUKE'S RETURN
Mr. Armstrong was sitting in his office one morning when the door opened, and Luke entered, his face flushed with health, and his cheeks browned by exposure.
"You see I've got back, Mr. Armstrong," he said, advancing with a smile.
"Welcome home, Luke!" exclaimed the merchant heartily, grasping our hero's hand cordially.
"I hope you are satisfied with me," said Luke.
"Satisfied! I ought to be. You have done yourself the greatest credit. It is seldom a boy of your age exhibits such good judgment and discretion."
"Thank you, sir," said Luke gratefully. "I was obliged to spend a good deal of money," he added, "and I have arrived in New York with only three dollars and seventy-five cents in my pocket."
"I have no fault to find with your expenses," said Mr. Armstrong promptly. "Nor would I have complained if you had spent twice as much. The main thing was to succeed, and you have succeeded."
"I am glad to hear you speak so," said Luke, relieved. "To me it seemed a great deal of money. You gave me two hundred dollars, and I have less than five dollars left. Here it is!" and Luke drew the sum from his pocket, and tendered it to the merchant.
"I can't take it," said Mr. Armstrong. "You don't owe me any money. It is I who am owing you. Take this on account," and he drew a roll of bills from his pocketbook and handed it to Luke. "Here are a hundred dollars on account," he continued.
"This is too much, Mr. Armstrong," said Luke, quite overwhelmed with the magnitude of the gift.
"Let me be the judge of that," said Mr. Armstrong kindly. "There is only one thing, Luke, that I should have liked to have you do."
"What is that, sir?"
"I should like to have had you bring me a list of the numbers certified to by Mr. Harding."
Luke's answer was to draw from the inside pocket of his vest a paper signed by the old bookkeeper, containing a list of the numbers, regularly subscribed and certified to.
"Is that what you wished, sir?" he asked.
"You are a wonderful boy," said the merchant admiringly. "Was this your idea, or Mr. Harding's?"
"I believe I suggested it to him," said Luke modestly.
"That makes all clear sailing," said Mr. Armstrong. "Here are fifty dollars more. You deserve it for your thoughtfulness."
"You have given me enough already," said Luke, drawing back.
"My dear boy, it is evident that you still have something to learn in the way of business. When a rich old fellow offers you money, which he can well afford, you had better take it."
"That removes all my objections," said Luke. "But I am afraid you will spoil me with your liberality, Mr. Armstrong."
"I will take the risk of it. But here is another of your friends."
The door had just opened, and Roland Reed entered. There was another cordial greeting, and Luke felt that it was pleasant, indeed, to have two such good friends.
"When are you going to Groveton, Luke?" asked Mr. Reed.
"I shall go this afternoon, if there is nothing more you wish me to do. I am anxious to see my mother."
"That is quite right, Luke. Your mother is your best friend, and deserves all the attention you can give her. I shall probably go to Groveton myself to-morrow."
After Luke had left the office, Mr. Reed remained to consult with the merchant as to what was the best thing to do. Both were satisfied that Prince Duncan, the president of the bank, was the real thief who had robbed the bank. There were two courses open—a criminal prosecution, or a private arrangement which should include the return of the stolen property. The latter course was determined upon, but should it prove ineffective, severer measures were to be resorted to.
