Alger Horatio Jr.
Struggling Upward, or Luke Larkin's Luck
CHAPTER XI
LUKE IS ARRESTED
Just after twelve o'clock, when Luke was at home eating dinner, a knock was heard at the front door.
"I'll go, mother," said Luke, and he rose from the table, and, going into the entry, opened the outer door.
His surprise may be imagined when he confronted Squire Duncan and the gentlemen already mentioned as directors of the Groveton bank.
"Did you wish to see mother?" he asked.
"Yes; we have come on important business," said Squire Duncan, pompously.
"Walk in, if you please."
Luke led the way into the little sitting-room, followed by the visitors. The dinner-table was spread in the kitchen adjoining. The room looked very much filled up with the unwonted company, all being large men.
"Mother," called Luke, "here are some gentlemen who wish to see you."
The widow entered the room, and looked with surprise from one to another. All waited for Squire Duncan, as the proper person, from his official position, to introduce the subject of their visit.
"Mrs. Larkin," said the squire, pompously, "it has possibly come to your ears that the Groveton Bank, of which you are aware that I am the president, has been robbed of a box of bonds?"
"Yes, sir. I was so informed by Miss Melinda Sprague this morning."
"I am also informed that you have in your custody a tin box similar to the one that has been taken."
He expected to see Mrs. Larkin show signs of confusion, but she answered calmly: "I have a box in my custody, but whether it resembles the one lost I can't say."
"Ha! you admit that you hold such a box?" said the squire, looking significantly at his companions.
"Certainly. Why should I not?"
"Are you willing to show it to us?"
"Yes, we are willing to show it," said Luke, taking it upon himself to answer, "but I have no idea that it will do you any good."
"That is for us to decide, young man," said Squire Duncan.
"Do you suppose it is the box missing from the bank, sir?"
"It may be."
"When did you miss the box?"
"Only this morning, but it may have been taken a month ago."
"This box has been in our possession for a fortnight."
"Such is your statement, Luke."
"It is the truth," said Luke, flushing with indignation.
"My boy," said Mr. Beane, "don't be angry. I, for one, have no suspicion that you have done anything wrong, but it is our duty to inquire into this matter."
"Who told you that we had such a box, Mr. Beane?"
"Miss Melinda Sprague was the informant."
"I thought so, mother," said Luke. "She is a prying old maid, and it is just like her."
"Miss Sprague only did her duty," said the squire. "But we are losing time. We require you to produce the box."
"I will get it, gentlemen," said the widow, calmly.
While she was upstairs, Mr. Manning inquired: "Where did you get the box, Luke?"
"If you identify it as the box taken from the bank," answered Luke, "I will tell you. Otherwise I should prefer to say nothing, for it is a secret of another person."
"Matters look very suspicious, in my opinion, gentlemen," said Squire Duncan, turning to his associates.
"Not necessarily," said Mr. Beane, who seemed inclined to favor our hero. "Luke may have a good reason for holding his tongue."
Here Mrs. Larkin presented herself with the missing box. Instantly it became an object of attention.
"It looks like the missing box," said the squire.
"Of course, I can offer no opinion," said Mr. Beane, "not having seen the one lost. Such boxes, however, have a general resemblance to each other."
"Have you the key that opens it?" asked the squire.
"No, sir."
"Squire Duncan," asked Mr. Beane, "have you the key unlocking the missing box?"
"No, sir," answered Squire Duncan, after a slight pause.
"Then I don't think we can decide as to the identity of the two boxes."
The trustees looked at each other in a state of indecision. No one knew what ought to be done.
"What course do you think we ought to take, Squire Duncan?" asked Mr. Bailey.
"I think," said the bank president, straightening up, "that there is sufficient evidence to justify the arrest of this boy Luke."
"I have done nothing wrong, sir," said Luke, indignantly. "I am no more of a thief than you are."
"Do you mean to insult me, you young jackanapes?" demanded Mr.
Duncan, with an angry flush on his face.
"I intend to insult no one, but I claim that I have done nothing wrong."
"That is what all criminals say," sneered the squire.
Luke was about to make an angry reply, but Mr. Beane, waving his hand as a signal for our hero to be quiet, remarked calmly: "I think, Duncan, in justice to Luke, we ought to hear his story as to how the box came into his possession."
"That is my opinion," said Mr. Bailey. "I don't believe Luke is a bad boy."
Prince Duncan felt obliged to listen to that suggestion, Mr.
Bailey and Mr. Beane being men of consideration in the village.
"Young man," he said, "we are ready to hear your story. From whom did you receive this box?"
"From a man named Roland Reed," answered Luke.
The four visitors looked at each other in surprise.
"And who is Roland Reed?" asked the president of the bank. "It seems very much like a fictitious name."
"It may be, for aught I know," said Luke, "but it is the name given me by the person who gave me the box to keep for him."
"State the circumstances," said Mr. Beane.
"About two weeks since I was returning from the house of Miss Almira Clark, where I had gone on an errand for my mother. To shorten my journey, I took my way through the woods. I had nearly passed through to the other side, when a tall man, dark-complexioned, whom I had never seen before stepped up to me. He asked me my name, and, upon my telling him, asked if I would do him a favor. This was to take charge of a tin box, which he carried under his arm."
"The one before us?" asked Mr. Manning.
"Yes, sir."
"Did he give any reason for making this request?"
"He said he was about to leave the neighborhood, and wished it taken care of. He asked me to put it under lock and key."
"Did he state why he selected you for this trust?" asked Mr. Beane.
"No, sir; he paid me for my trouble, however. He gave me a bank-note, which, when I reached home, I found to be a ten-dollar bill."
"And you haven't seen him since?"
"Once only."
"When was that?"
"On the evening of Florence Grant's party. On my way home the same man came up to me and asked if the box was safe. I answered, 'Yes.' He said, 'That is all—for the present,' and disappeared. I have not seen him since."
"That is a very pretty romance," said Prince Duncan, with a sneer.
"I can confirm it," said Mrs. Larkin, calmly. "I saw Luke bring in the box, and at his request I took charge of it. The story he told at that time is the same that he tells now."
"Very possibly," said the bank president. "It was all cut and dried."
"You seem very much prejudiced against Luke," said Mrs. Larkin, indignantly.
"By no means, Mrs. Larkin. I judge him and his story from the standpoint of common sense. Gentlemen, I presume this story makes the same impression on you as on me?"
Mr. Beane shook his head. "It may be true; it is not impossible," he said.
"You believe, then, there is such a man as Roland Reed?"
"There may be a man who calls himself such."
"If there is such a man, he is a thief."
"It may be so, but that does not necessarily implicate Luke."
"He would be a receiver of stolen property."
"Not knowing it to be such."
"At all events, I feel amply justified in causing the arrest of Luke Larkin on his own statement."
"Surely you don't mean this?" exclaimed Mrs. Larkin, in dismay.
"Don't be alarmed, mother," said Luke, calmly. "I am innocent of wrong, and no harm will befall me."
CHAPTER XII
LUKE AS A PRISONER
Prince Duncan, who was a magistrate, directed the arrest of Luke on a charge of robbing the Groveton Bank. The constable who was called upon to make the arrest performed the duty unwillingly.
"I don't believe a word of it, Luke," he said. "It's perfect nonsense to say you have robbed the bank. I'd as soon believe myself guilty."
Luke was not taken to the lock-up, but was put in the personal custody of Constable Perkins, who undertook to be responsible for his appearance at the trial.
"You mustn't run away, or you'll get me into trouble, Luke," said the good-natured constable.
"It's the last thing I'd be willing to do, Mr. Perkins," said Luke, promptly. "Then everybody would decide that I was guilty.
I am innocent, and want a chance to prove it."
What was to be done with the tin box, was the next question.
"I will take it over to my house," said Squire Duncan.
"I object," said Mr. Beane.
"Do you doubt my integrity?" demanded the bank president, angrily.
"No; but it is obviously improper that any one of us should take charge of the box before it has been opened and its contents examined. We are not even certain that it is the one missing from the bank."
As Mr. Beane was a lawyer, Prince Duncan, though unwillingly, was obliged to yield. The box, therefore, was taken to the bank and locked up in the safe till wanted.
It is hardly necessary to say that the events at the cottage of Mrs. Larkin, and Luke's arrest, made a great sensation in the village. The charge that Luke had robbed the bank was received not only with surprise, but with incredulity. The boy was so well and so favorably known in Groveton that few could be found to credit the charge. There were exceptions, however. Melinda Sprague enjoyed the sudden celebrity she had achieved as the original discoverer of the thief who had plundered the bank. She was inclined to believe that Luke was guilty, because it enhanced her own importance.
"Most people call Luke a good boy," she said, "but there was always something about him that made me suspicious. There was something in his expression—I can't tell you what—that set me to thinkin' all wasn't right. Appearances are deceitful, as our old minister used to say."
"They certainly are, if Luke is a bad boy and a thief," retorted the other, indignantly. "You might be in better business, Melinda, than trying to take away the character of a boy like Luke."
"I only did my duty," answered Melinda, with an air of superior virtue. "I had no right to keep secret what I knew about the robbery."
"You always claimed to be a friend of the Larkins. Only last week you took tea there."
"That's true. I am a friend now, but I can't consent to cover up inquiry. Do you know whether the bank has offered any reward for the detection of the thief?"
"No," said the other, shortly, with a look of contempt at the eager spinster. "Even if it did, and poor Luke were found guilty, it would be blood-money that no decent person would accept."
"Really, Mrs. Clark, you have singular ideas," said the discomfited Melinda. "I ain't after no money. I only mean to do my duty, but if the bank should recognize the value of my services, it would be only right and proper."
There was another who heard with great satisfaction of Luke's arrest. This was Randolph Duncan. As it happened, he was late in learning that his rival had got into trouble, not having seen his father since breakfast.
"This is great news about Luke," said his friend Sam Noble, meeting him on the street.
"What news? I have heard nothing," said Randolph, eagerly.
"He has been arrested."
"You don't say so!" exclaimed Randolph. "What has he done?"
"Robbed the bank of a tin box full of bonds. It was worth an awful lot of money."
"Well, well!" ejaculated Randolph. "I always thought he was a boy of no principle."
"The tin box was found in his mother's trunk."
"What did Luke say? Did he own up?"
"No; he brazened it out. He said the box was given him to take care of by some mysterious stranger."
"That's too thin. How was it traced to Luke?"
"It seems Old Maid Sprague"—it was lucky for Melinda's peace of mind that she did not hear this contemptuous reference to her—"went to the Widow Larkin's house one day and saw the tin box in her trunk."
"She didn't leave the trunk open, did she?"
"No; but she had it open, looking into it, when old Melinda crept upstairs softly and caught her at it."
"I suppose Luke will have to go to State's prison," said Randolph, with a gratified smile.
"I hope it won't be quite so bad as that," said Sam, who was not equal in malice to his aristocratic friend.
"I haven't any pity for him," said Randolph, decidedly. "If he chooses to steal, he must expect to be punished."
Just then Mr. Hooper, the grammar-school teacher, came up.
"Mr. Hooper," said Randolph, eagerly, "have you heard about Luke?"
"I have heard that he has been removed from his janitorship, and I'm sorry for it."
"If he goes to jail he wouldn't be able to be janitor," said Randolph.
"Goes to jail! What do you mean?" demanded the teacher, sharply.
Hereupon Randolph told the story, aided and assisted by Sam Noble, to whom he referred as his authority.
"This is too ridiculous!" said Mr. Hooper, contemptuously. "Luke is no thief, and if he had the tin box he has given the right explanation of how he came by it."
"I know he is a favorite of yours, Mr. Hooper, but that won't save him from going to jail," said Randolph, tartly.
"If he is a favorite of mine," said the teacher, with dignity, "it is for a very good reason. I have always found him to be a high-minded, honorable boy, and I still believe him to be so, in spite of the grave accusation that has been brought against him."
There was something in the teacher's manner that deterred Randolph from continuing his malicious attack upon Luke. Mr. Hooper lost no time in inquiring into the facts of the case, and then in seeking out Luke, whom he found in the constable's house.
"Luke," he said, extending his hand, "I have heard that you were in trouble, and I have come to see what I can do for you."
"You are very kind, Mr. Hooper," said Luke, gratefully. "I hope you don't believe me guilty."
"I would as soon believe myself guilty of the charge, Luke."
"That's just what I said, Mr. Hooper," said Constable Perkins.
"Just as if there wasn't more than one tin box in the world."
"You never told any one that you had a tin box in your custody, I suppose, Luke?"
"No, sir; the man who asked me to take care of it especially cautioned me to say nothing about it."
"What was his name?"
"Roland Reed."
"Do you know where to find him? It would be of service to you if you could obtain his evidence. It would clear you at once."
"I wish I could, sir, but I have no idea where to look for him."
"That is unfortunate," said the teacher, knitting his brows in perplexity. "When are you to be brought to trial?"
"To-morrow, I hear."
"Well, Luke, keep up a good heart and hope for the best."
"I mean to, sir."
CHAPTER XIII
IN THE COURT-ROOM
It was decided that Luke should remain until his trial in the personal custody of Constable Perkins. Except for the name of it, his imprisonment was not very irksome, for the Perkins family treated him as an honored guest, and Mrs. Perkins prepared a nicer supper than usual. When Mr. Perkins went out he said to his wife, with a quizzical smile: "I leave Luke in your charge. Don't let him run away."
"I'll look out for that," said Mrs. Perkins, smiling.
"Perhaps I had better leave you a pistol, my dear?"
"I am afraid I should not know how to use it."
"You might tie my hands," suggested Luke.
"That wouldn't prevent your walking away."
"Then my feet."
"It won't be necessary, husband," said Mrs. Perkins. "I've got the poker and tongs ready."
But, though treated in this jesting manner, Luke could not help feeling a little anxious. For aught he knew, the tin box taken from his mother's trunk might be the same which had been stolen from the bank. In that case Roland Reed was not likely to appear again, and his story would be disbelieved. It was a strange one, he could not help admitting to himself. Yet he could not believe that the mysterious stranger was a burglar. If he were, it seemed very improbable that he would have left his booty within half a mile of the bank, in the very village where the theft had been committed. It was all very queer, and he could not see into the mystery.
"I should like to do something," thought Luke. "It's dull work sitting here with folded hands."
"Isn't there something I can do, Mrs. Perkins?" he said. "I am not used to sitting about the house idle."
"Well, you might make me some pies," said Mrs. Perkins.
"You'd never eat them if I did. I can boil eggs and fry potatoes.
Isn't there some wood to saw and split?"
"Plenty out in the shed."
"I understand that, at any rate. Have you any objection to my setting to work?"
"No, if you won't run away."
"Send out Charlie to watch me."
Charlie was a youngster about four years of age, and very fond of Luke, who was a favorite with most young children.
"Yes, that will do. Charlie, go into the shed and see Luke saw wood."
"Yes, mama."
"Don't let him run away."
"No, I won't," said Charlie, gravely.
Luke felt happier when he was fairly at work. It took his mind off his troubles, as work generally does, and he spent a couple of hours in the shed. Then Mrs. Perkins came to the door and called him.
"Luke," she said, "a young lady has called to see the prisoner."
"A young lady! Who is it?"
"Florence Grant."
Luke's face brightened up with pleasure; he put on his coat and went into the house.
"Oh, Luke, what a shame!" exclaimed Florence, hastening to him with extended hand. "I only just heard of it."
"Then you're not afraid to shake hands with a bank burglar?" said Luke.
"No, indeed! What nonsense it is! Who do you think told me of your arrest?"
"Randolph Duncan."
"You have guessed it."
"What did he say? Did he seem to be shocked at my iniquity?"
"I think he seemed glad of it. Of course, he believes you guilty."
"I supposed he would, or pretend to, at any rate. I think his father is interested to make me out guilty. I hope you don't think there is any chance of it?"
"Of course not, Luke. I know you too well. I'd sooner suspect Randolph. He wanted to know what I thought of you now."
"And what did you answer?"
"That I thought the same as I always had—that you were one of the best boys in the village. 'I admire your taste,' said Randolph, with a sneer. Then I gave him a piece of my mind."
"I should like to have heard you, Florence."
"I don't know; you have no idea what a virago I am when I am mad.
Now sit down and tell me all about it."
Luke obeyed, and the conversation was a long one, and seemed interesting to both. In the midst of it Linton Tomkins came in.
"Have you come to see the prisoner, also, Linton?" asked Florence.
"Yes, Florence. What a desperate-looking ruffian he is! I don't dare to come too near. How did you break into the bank, Luke?"
First Luke smiled, then he became grave. "After all, it is no joke to me, Linny," he said. "Think of the disgrace of being arrested on such a charge."
"The disgrace is in being a burglar, not in being arrested for one, Luke. Of course, it's absurd. Father wants me to say that if you are bound over for trial he will go bail for you to any amount."
"Your father is very kind, Linny. I may need to avail myself of his kindness."
The next day came, and at ten o'clock, Luke, accompanied by Constable Perkins, entered the room in which Squire Duncan sat as trial justice. A considerable number of persons were gathered, for it was a trial in which the whole village was interested. Among them was Mrs. Larkin, who wore an anxious, perturbed look.
"Oh, Luke," she said sorrowfully, "how terrible it is to have you here!"
"Don't be troubled, mother," said Luke. "We both know that I am innocent, and I rely on God to stand by me."
"Luke," said Mr. Beane, "though I am a bank trustee, I am your friend and believe you innocent. I will act as your lawyer."
"Thank you, Mr. Beane. I shall be very glad to accept your services."
The preliminary proceedings were of a formal character. Then Miss Melinda Sprague was summoned to testify. She professed to be very unwilling to say anything likely to injure her good friends, Luke and his mother, but managed to tell, quite dramatically, how she first caught a glimpse of the tin box.
"Did Mrs. Larkin know that you saw it?" asked the squire.
"She didn't know for certain," answered Melinda, "but she was evidently afraid I would, for she shut the trunk in a hurry, and seemed very much confused. I thought of this directly when I heard of the bank robbery, and I went over to tell Luke and his mother."
"How did they receive your communication?"
"They seemed very much frightened."
"And you inferred that they had not come honestly by the tin box?"
"It grieves me to say that I did," said Melinda, putting her handkerchief to her eyes to brush away an imaginary tear.
Finally Melinda sat down, and witnesses were called to testify to Luke's good character. There were more who wished to be sworn than there was time to hear. Mr. Beane called only Mr. Hooper, Mr. Tomkins and Luke's Sunday-school teacher. Then he called Luke to testify in his own defense.
Luke told a straightforward story—the same that he had told before—replying readily and easily to any questions that were asked him.
"I submit, Squire Duncan," said Mr. Beane, "that my client's statement is plain and frank and explains everything. I hold that it exonerates him from all suspicion of complicity with the robbery."
"I differ with you," said Squire Duncan, acidly. "It is a wild, improbable tale, that does not even do credit to the prisoner's invention. In my opinion, this mysterious stranger has no existence. Is there any one besides himself who has seen this Roland Reed?"
At this moment there was a little confusion at the door. A tall, dark-complexioned stranger pushed his way into the court-room. He advanced quickly to the front.
"I heard my name called," he said. "There is no occasion to doubt my existence. I am Roland Reed!"
