CHAPTER IV
AN ATTACK IN THE DARK
Luke turned into Milwaukee Avenue, and a few steps took him to West Ohio Street, where his friend lived. On his way he met Tom Brooks, who was lounging in front of a cigar store, smoking a cigarette.
"Good-evening, Tom," said Luke, politely.
"Evenin'!" responded Tom, briefly. "Where you goin'?"
"To see Jim Norman. He's sick."
"What's the matter of him?"
"He's got a bad cold and is confined to the house?"
Tom shrugged his shoulders.
"I don't go much on Jim Norman," he said, "He ought to be a girl. He never smoked a cigarette in his life."
"Didn't he? All the better for him. I don't smoke myself."
"You have smoked."
"Yes, I used to, but it troubled my mother, and I promised her I wouldn't do it again."
"So you broke off?"
"Yes."
"I wouldn't be tied to a woman's apron strings."
"Wouldn't you try to oblige your mother?"
"No, I wouldn't. What does a woman know about boys? If I was a gal it would be different."
"Then we don't agree, that is all."
"I say, Luke, won't you take me to the theayter?"
"I can't afford it."
"That's all bosh! Haven't you got five dollars? I'd feel rich on five dollars."
"Perhaps I might if it were mine, but it isn't."
"You can use it all the same," said Tom, in an insinuating voice.
"Yes, I can be dishonest if I choose, but I don't choose."
"What Sunday school do you go to?" asked Tom, with a sneer.
"None at present."
"I thought you did by your talk. It makes me sick!"
"Then," said Luke, good-naturedly, "there is no need to listen to it. I am afraid you are not likely to enjoy my company, so I will walk along."
Luke kept on his way, leaving Tom smoking sullenly.
"That feller's a fool!" he muttered, in a disgusted tone.
"What feller?"
Tom turned, and saw his friend and chum, Pat O'Connor, who had just come up.
"What feller? Why, Luke Walton, of course."
"What's the matter of him?"
"He's got five dollars, and he won't pay me into the theayter."
"Where did he get such a pile of money?" asked Pat, in surprise.
"A gentleman gave it to him for a paper, tellin' him to bring the change to-morrer."
"Is he goin' to do it?"
"Yes; that's why I call him a fool."
"I wish you and I had his chance," said Pat, enviously. "We'd paint the town red, I guess."
Tom nodded. He and Pat were quite agreed on that point.
"Where's Luke goin'?" asked Pat.
"To see Jim Norman. Jim's sick with a cold."
"What time's he comin' home?"
"I don't know. Why?"
"Do you think he's got the money with him – the five-dollar bill?"
"What are you up to?" asked Tom, with a quick glance at his companion.
"I was thinkin' we might borrer the money," answered Pat, with a grin.
To Tom this was a new suggestion, but it was favorably received. He conferred with Pat in a low tone, and then the two sauntered down the street in the direction of Jim Norman's home.
Meanwhile we will follow Luke.
He kept on till he reached a shabby brick house.
Jim and his mother, with two smaller children, occupied two small rooms on the top floor. Luke had been there before, and did not stop to inquire directions, but ascended the stairs till he came to Jim's room. The door was partly open, and he walked in.
"How's Jim, Mrs. Norman?" he asked.
Mrs. Norman was wearily washing dishes at the sink.
"He's right sick, Luke," she answered, turning round, and recognizing the visitor. "Do you hear him cough?"
From a small inner room came the sound of a hard and rasping cough.
"How are you feeling, Jim?" inquired Luke, entering, and taking a chair at the bedside.
"I don't feel any better, Luke," answered the sick boy, his face lighting up with pleasure as he recognized his friend. "I'm glad you come."
"You've got a hard cough."
"Yes; it hurts my throat when I cough, and I can't get a wink of sleep."
"I've brought you a little cough medicine. It was some we had in the house."
"Thank you, Luke. You're a good friend to me. Give me some, please."
"If your mother'll give me a spoon, I'll pour some out."
When the medicine was taken, the boys began to talk.
"I ought to be at work," said Jim, sighing. "I don't know how we'll get along if I don't get out soon. Mother has some washing to do, but it isn't enough to pay all our expenses. I used to bring in seventy-five cents a day, and that, with what mother could earn, kept us along."
"I wish I was rich enough to help you, Jim, but you know how it is. All I can earn I have to carry home. My mother sews for a house on State Street, but sewing doesn't pay as well as washing."
"I know you'd help me if you could, Luke. You have helped me by bringing in the medicine, and it does me good to have you call."
"But I would like to do more. I'll tell you what I will do. I know a rich gentleman, one of my customers. I! am to call upon him to-morrow. I'll tell him about you, and perhaps he will help you."
"Any help would be acceptable, Luke, if you don't mind asking him."
"I wouldn't like to ask for myself, but I don't mind asking for you."
Luke stayed an hour, and left Jim much brighter and more cheerful for his visit.
When he went out into the street it was quite dark, although the moon now and then peeped out from behind the clouds that a brisk breeze sent scurrying across the sky.
Having a slight headache, he thought he would walk it off, so he sauntered slowly in the direction of the business portion of the city.
Walking farther than he intended, he found himself, almost before he was aware, crossing one of the numerous bridges that span the river. He was busy with thoughts of Jim, and how he could help him, and did not notice that two boys were following him stealthily. It was a complete surprise to him therefore when they rushed upon him, and, each seizing an arm, rendered him helpless.
"Hand over what money you've got, and be quick about it!" demanded one of the boys.
CHAPTER V
HOW LUKE ESCAPED
The attack was so sudden and unexpected that Luke was for the moment incapable of resistance, though in general quite ready to defend himself. It was not till he felt a hand in his pocket that he "pulled himself together," as the English express it, and began to make things lively for his assailants.
"What are you after?" he demanded. "Do you want to rob me?"
"Give us the money, and be quick about it."
"How do you know I have any money?" asked Luke, beginning to suspect in whose hands he was.
"Never mind how! Hand over that five-dollar bill," was the reply in the same hoarse whisper.
"I know you now. You're Tom Brooks," said Luke. "You're in bad business."
"No, I'm not Tom Brooks." It was Pat who spoke now. "Come, we have no time to lose. Stephen, give me your knife."
The name was a happy invention of Pat's to throw Luke off the scent. He was not himself acquainted with our hero, and did not fear identification.
"One of you two is Tom Brooks," said Luke, firmly. "You'd better give up this attempt at highway robbery. If I summon an officer you're liable to a long term of imprisonment. I'll save you trouble by telling you that I haven't any money with me, except a few pennies."
"Where's the five-dollar bill?"
It was Tom who spoke now.
"I left it at home with my mother. It's lucky I did, though you would have found it hard to get it from me."
"I don't believe it," said Tom, in a tone betraying disappointment.
"You may search me if you like; but if a policeman comes by you'd better take to your heels."
The boys appeared disconcerted.
"Is he lying?" asked Pat.
"No," responded Tom. "He'd own up if he had the money."
"Thank you for believing me. It is very evident that one of you knows me. Good-night. You'd better find some other way of getting money."
"Wait a minute! Are you going to tell on us? It wouldn't be fair to Tom Brooks. He ain't here, but you might get him into trouble."
"I shan't get you into trouble, Tom, but I'm afraid you bring trouble on yourself."
Apparently satisfied with this promise, the two boys slunk away in the darkness, and Luke was left to proceed on his way unmolested.
"I wouldn't have believed that of Tom," thought Luke. "I'm sorry it happened. If it had been anyone but me, and a cop had come by, it would have gone hard with him. It's lucky I left the money with mother, though I don't think they'd have got it at any rate."
Luke did not acquaint his mother with the attempt that had been made to rob him. He merely told of his visit and of the sad plight of the little bootblack.
"I would like to have helped him, mother," Luke concluded. "If we hadn't been robbed of that money father sent us – "
"We could afford the luxury of doing good," said his mother, finishing the sentence for him.
Luke's face darkened with justifiable anger.
"I know it is wrong to hate anyone, mother," he said; "but I am afraid I hate that man Thomas Butler, whom I have never seen."
"It is sometimes hard to feel like a Christian, Luke," said his mother.
"This man must be one of the meanest of men. Suppose you or I should fall sick! What would become of us?"
"We won't borrow trouble, Luke. Let us rather thank God for our present good health. If I should be sick it would not be as serious as if you were to become so, for you earn more than twice as much as I do."
"It ought not to be so, mother, for you work harder than I do."
"When I get a sewing machine I shall be able to contribute more to the common fund."
"I hope that will be soon. Has Bennie gone to bed?"
"Yes, he is fast asleep."
"I hope fortune will smile on us before he is much older than I. I can't bear the idea of sending him into the street among bad boys."
"I have been accustomed to judge of the newsboys by my son. Are there many bad boys among them?"
"Many of them are honest, hard-working boys, but there are some black sheep among them. I know one boy who tried to commit highway robbery, stopping a person whom he had seen with money."
"Did he get caught?"
"No, he failed of his purpose, and no complaint was made of him, though his intended victim knew who his assailant was."
"I am glad of that. It would have been hard for his poor mother if he had been convicted and sent to prison."
This Mrs. Walton said without a suspicion that it was Luke that the boy had tried to rob. When Luke heard his mother's comment he was glad that he had agreed to overlook Tom's fault.
The next morning Luke went as usual to the vicinity of the Sherman House, and began to sell papers. He looked in vain for Tom Brooks, who did not show up.
"Where is Tom Brooks?" he asked of one of Tom's friends.
"Tom's goin' to try another place," said the boy. "He says there's too many newsboys round this corner. He thinks he can do better somewheres else."
"Where is he? Do you know?"
"I seed him near the corner of Dearborn, in front of the 'Saratoga.'"
"Well, I hope he'll make out well," said Luke.
Luke had the five-dollar bill in his pocket, but he knew that it was too early for the offices on La Salle Street to be open.
Luke's stock of morning papers included the Chicago Tribune, the Times, Herald, and Inter-Ocean. He seldom disposed of his entire stock as early as ten o'clock, but this morning another newsboy in addition to Tom was absent, and Luke experienced the advantage of diminished competition. As he sold the last paper the clock struck ten.
"I think it will do for me to go to Mr. Afton's office now," thought Luke. "If I don't find him in I will wait."
La Salle Street runs parallel with Clark. It is a busy thoroughfare, and contains many buildings cut up into offices. This was the case with No. 155.
Luke entered the building and scanned the directory on either side of the door. He had no difficulty in finding the name of Benjamin Afton.
He had to go up two flights of stairs, for Mr. Afton's office was on the third floor.
CHAPTER VI
MR. AFTON'S OFFICE
Mr. Afton's office was of unusual size, and fronted on La Salle Street. As Luke entered he observed that it was furnished better than the ordinary business office. On the floor was a handsome Turkey carpet. The desks were of some rich dark wood, and the chairs were as costly as those in his library. In a closed bookcase at one end of the room, surmounted by bronze statuettes, was a full library of reference.
At one desk stood a tall man, perhaps thirty-five, with red hair and prominent features. At another desk was a young fellow of eighteen, bearing a marked resemblance to the head bookkeeper. There was besides a young man of perhaps twenty-two, sitting at a table, apparently filing bills.
"Mr. Afton must be a rich man to have such an elegant office," thought Luke.
The red-haired bookkeeper did not take the trouble to look up to see who had entered the office.
"Is Mr. Afton in?" Luke asked, in a respectful tone.
The bookkeeper raised his eyes for a moment, glanced at Luke with a supercilious air, and said curtly, "No!"
"Do you know when he will be in?" continued the newsboy.
"Quite indefinite. What is your business, boy?"
"My business is with Mr. Afton," Luke answered.
"Humph! is it of an important nature?"
"It is not very important," he answered, "but I wish to see Mr. Afton personally."
"Whose office are you in?"
"He isn't in any office, Uncle Nathaniel," put in the red-haired boy. "He is a newsboy. I see him every morning round the Sherman House."
"Ha! is that so? Boy, we don't want to buy any papers, nor does Mr. Afton. You can go."
As the bookkeeper spoke he pointed to the door.
"I have no papers to sell," said Luke, "but I come here on business with Mr. Afton, and will take the liberty to wait till he comes."
"Oh, my eyes! Ain't he got cheek?" ejaculated the red-haired boy. "I say, boy, do you black boots as well as sell papers?"
"No, I don't."
"Some of the newsboys do. I thought, perhaps, you had got a job to black Mr. Afton's boots every morning."
Luke who was a spirited boy, was fast getting angry.
"I don't want to interfere with you in any way," he said.
"What do you mean?" demanded the red-haired boy, his cheeks rivaling his hair in color.
"I thought that might be one of your duties."
"Why, you impudent young vagabond! Uncle Nathaniel, did you hear that?"
"Boy, you had better go," said the bookkeeper.
"You can leave your card," added Eustis Clark, the nephew.
A friend of Luke's had printed and given him a dozen cards a few days previous, and he had them in his pocket at that moment.
"Thank you for the suggestion," he said, and walking up to the boy's desk he deposited on it a card bearing this name in neat script:
LUKE WALTON.
"Be kind enough to hand that to Mr. Afton."
Eustis held up the card, and burst into a guffaw.
"Well, I never!" he ejaculated. "Mr. Walton," he concluded, with a ceremonious bow.
"The same to you!" said Luke, with a smile.
"I never saw a newsboy put on such airs before," he said, as Luke left the office. "Did you, Uncle Nathaniel? Do you think he really had any business with the boss?"
"Probably he wanted to supply the office with papers. Now stop fooling, and go to work."
"They didn't seem very glad to see me," thought Luke. "I want to see Mr. Afton this morning, or he may think that I have not kept my word about the money."
Luke stationed himself in the doorway at the entrance to the building, meaning to intercept Mr. Afton as he entered from the street. He had to wait less than ten minutes. Mr. Afton smiled in instant recognition as he saw Luke, and seemed glad to see him.
"I am glad the boy justified my idea of him," he said to himself. "I would have staked a thousand dollars on his honesty. Such a face as that doesn't belong to a rogue."
"I am rather late," he said. "Have you been here long?"
"Not very long, sir; I have been up in your office."
"Why didn't you sit down and wait for me?"
"I don't think the red-haired gentleman cared to have me. The boy asked me to leave my card."
Mr. Afton looked amused.
"And did you?" he asked.
"Yes, sir."
"Do you generally carry visiting cards?"
"Well, I happened to have some with me this morning."
"Please show me one. So your name is Luke Walton?" he added, glancing at the card.
"Yes, sir; office corner Clark and Randolph Streets."
"I will keep the card and bear it in mind."
"I have brought your change, sir," said Luke.
"You can come upstairs and pay it to me in the office. It will be more business-like."
Luke was glad to accept the invitation, for it would prove to the skeptical office clerks that he really had business with their employer.
Eustis Clark and his uncle could not conceal their surprise when they saw Luke follow Mr. Afton into the office.
There was a smaller room inclosed at one corner, which was especially reserved for Mr. Afton.
"Come here, Luke," said he, pleasantly.
Luke followed him inside.
He drew from his pocket four dollars and ninety-eight cents, and laid it on the table behind which his patron had taken a seat.
"Won't you please count it and see if it is right?" he asked.
"I can see that it is, Luke. I am afraid I have put you to more trouble than the profit on the two papers I bought would pay for."
"Not at all, sir. Besides, it's all in the way of business. I thank you for putting confidence in me."
"I thought I was not mistaken in you, and the result shows that I was right. My boy, I saw that you had an honest face. I am sure that the thought of keeping back the money never entered your head."
"No, sir, it did not, though one of the newsboys advised me to keep it."
"It would have been very shortsighted as a matter of policy. I will take this money, but I want to encourage you in the way of well-doing."
He drew from his vest pocket a bill, and extended it to Luke.
"It isn't meant as a reward for honesty, but only as a mark of the interest I have begun to feel in you."
"Thank you, sir," said Luke; and as he took the bill, he started in surprise, for it was ten dollars.
"Did you mean to give as much as this?"
"How much is it?"
"Ten dollars."
"I thought it was five, but I am glad it is more. Yes, Luke, you are welcome to it. Have you anyone dependent upon you?"
"My mother. She will be very much pleased."
"That's right, my lad. Always look out for your mother. You owe her a debt which you can never repay."
"That is true, sir. But I would like to use a part of this money for some one else."
"For yourself?"
"No; for a friend."
Then he told in simple language of Jim Norman, and how seriously his family was affected by his sickness and enforced idleness.
"Jim has no money to buy medicine," he concluded. "If you don't object, Mr. Afton, I will give Jim's mother half this money, after buying some cough medicine out of it."
The merchant listened with approval.
"I am glad, Luke, you feel for others," he said, "but I can better afford to help your friend than you. Here is a five-dollar bill. Tell the boy it is from a friend, and if he should need more let me know."
"Thank you, sir," said Luke, fairly radiant as he thought of Jim's delight. "I won't take up any more of your time, but will bid you good-morning."
Probably Mr. Afton wished to give his clerks a lesson, for he followed Luke to the door of the outer office, and shook hands cordially with him, saying: "I shall be glad to have you call, when you wish to see me, Luke;" adding, "I may possibly have some occasional work for you to do. If so, I know where to find you."
"Thank you, sir."
"What's got into the old man?" thought Eustis Clark.
As Mr. Afton returned to his sanctum, Eustis said with a grin, holding up the card:
"Mr. Walton left his card for you, thinking you might not be in time to see him."
"Give it to me, if you please," and the rich man took the card without a smile, and put it into his vest pocket, not seeming in the least surprised.
"Mr. Walton called to pay me some money," he said, gravely. "Whenever he calls invite him to wait till my return."
CHAPTER VII
A STRANGE ENCOUNTER
Luke went home that evening in high spirits. The gift he had received from Mr. Afton enabled him to carry out a plan he had long desired to realize. It was to secure a sewing machine for his mother, and thus increase her earnings while diminishing her labors. He stopped at an establishment not far from Clark Street, and entering the showroom, asked: "What is the price of your sewing machines?"
"One in a plain case will cost you twenty-five dollars."
"Please show me one."
"Do you want it for your wife?"
"She may use it some time. My mother will use it first."
The salesman pointed out an instrument with which Luke was well pleased.
"Would you like to see how it works?"
"Yes, please."
"Miss Morris, please show this young man how to operate the machine."
In the course of ten minutes Luke got a fair idea of the method of operating.
"Do you require the whole amount down?" asked Luke.
"No; we sell on installments, if preferred."
"What are your terms?"
"Five dollars first payment, and then a dollar a week, with interest on the balance till paid."
"Then I think I will engage one," Luke decided.
"Very well! Come up to the desk, and give me your name and address. On payment of five dollars, we will give you a receipt on account, specifying the terms of paying the balance, etc."
Luke transacted his business, and made arrangements to have the machine delivered any time after six o'clock, when he knew he would be at home.
As Luke was coming out of the sewing-machine office he saw Tom Brooks just passing. Tom looked a little uneasy, not feeling certain whether Luke had recognized him as one of his assailants or not the evening previous.
Luke felt that he had a right to be angry. Indeed, he had it in his power to have Tom arrested, and charged with a very serious crime – that of highway robbery. But his good luck made him good-natured.
"Good-evening, Tom," he said. "I didn't see you selling papers to-day."
"No; I was on Dearborn Street."
"He doesn't know it was me," thought Tom, congratulating himself, and added: "Have you been buying a sewing machine?"
This was said in a joke.
"Yes," answered Luke, considerably to Tom's surprise. "I have bought one."
"How much?"
"Twenty-five dollars."
"Where did you raise twenty-five dollars? You're foolin'."
"I bought it on the installment plan – five dollars down."
"Oho!" said Tom, nodding significantly. "I know where you got that money?"
"Where did I?"
"From the gentleman that bought a couple of papers yesterday."
"You hit it right the first time."
"I thought you weren't no better than the rest of us – you that pretended to be so extra honest."
"What do you mean by that, Tom Brooks?"
"You pretended that you were going to give back the man's change, and spent it, after all. I thought you weren't such a saint as you pretended to be."
"I see you keep on judging me by yourself, Tom Brooks. I took round the money this morning, and he gave it to me."
"Is that true?"
"Yes; I generally tell the truth."
"Then you're lucky. If I'd returned it, he wouldn't have given me a cent."
"It's best to be honest on all occasions," said Luke, looking significantly at Tom, who colored up, for he now saw that he had been recognized the night before.
Tom sneaked off on some pretext, and Luke kept on his way home.
"Did you do well to-day, Luke?" asked Bennie.
"Yes, Bennie; very well."
"How much did you make?"
"I'll tell you by and by. Mother, can I help you about the supper?"
"You may toast the bread, Luke. I am going to have your favorite dish – milk toast."
"All right, mother. Have you been sewing to-day?"
"Yes, Luke. I sat so long in one position that I got cramped."
"I wish you had a sewing machine."
"So do I, Luke; but I must be patient. A sewing machine costs more money than we can afford."
"One can be got for twenty-five dollars, I have heard."
"That is a good deal of money for people in our position."
"We may as well hope for one. I shouldn't be surprised if we were able to buy a sewing machine very soon."
Meanwhile Luke finished toasting the bread and his mother was dipping it in milk when a step was heard on the stairway, the door was opened, and Nancy's red head was thrust into the room.
"Please, Mrs. Walton," said Nancy, breathlessly, "there's a man downstairs with a sewing machine which he says is for you."
"There must be some mistake, Nancy. I haven't ordered any sewing machine."
"Shall I send him off, ma'am?"
"No, Nancy," said Luke; "it's all right. I'll go down stairs and help him bring it up."
"How is this, Luke?" asked Mrs. Walton, bewildered.
"I'll explain afterwards, mother."
Up the stairs and into the room came the sewing machine, and was set down near the window. Bennie surveyed it with wonder and admiration.
When the man who brought it was gone, Luke explained to his mother how it had all come about.
"You see, mother, you didn't have to wait long," he concluded.
"I feel deeply thankful, Luke," said Mrs. Walton. "I can do three times the work I have been accustomed to do, and in much less time. This Mr. Afton must be a kind and charitable man."
"I like him better than his clerks," said Luke. "There is a red-headed bookkeeper and a boy there who tried to snub me, and keep me out of the office. I try to think well of red-headed people on account of Nancy, but I can't say I admire them."
After supper Luke gave his mother a lesson in operating the machine. Both found that it required a little practice.
The next morning as Luke was standing at his usual corner, he had a surprise.
A gentleman came out of the Sherman House and walked slowly up Clark Street. As he passed Luke, he stopped and asked, "Boy, have you the Inter-Ocean?"
Luke looked up in his customer's face. He paused in the greatest excitement.
The man was on the shady side of fifty, nearly six feet in height, with a dark complexion, hair tinged with gray, and a wart on the upper part of his right cheek!