Struggling Upward, or Luke Larkin's Luck

A part of this conversation took place on the platform of the railroad-station, and a part while they were walking in the direction of the hotel. They had now reached the village inn, and, bidding our hero good morning, Mr. Armstrong entered, and registered his name.

Ten minutes later he set out for the house of Prince Duncan.

CHAPTER XXI

THE DREADED INTERVIEW

Mr. Duncan had been dreading the inevitable interview with Mr. Armstrong. He knew him to be a sharp man of business, clear-sighted and keen, and he felt that this part of the conference would be an awkward and embarrassing one. He had tried to nerve himself for the interview, and thought he had succeeded, but when the servant brought Mr. Armstrong's card he felt a sinking at his heart, and it was in a tone that betrayed nervousness that he said: "Bring the gentleman in."

"My dear sir," he said, extending his hand and vigorously shaking the hand of his new arrival, "this is an unexpected pleasure."

"Unexpected? Didn't you get my letter from London?" said Mr. Armstrong, suffering his hand to be shaken, but not returning the arm pressure.

"Certainly—"

"In which I mentioned my approaching departure?"

"Yes, certainly; but I didn't know on what day to expect you.

Pray sit down. It seems pleasant to see you home safe and well."

"Humph!" returned Armstrong, in a tone by no means as cordial.

"Have you found my box of bonds?"

"Not yet, but—"

"Permit me to ask you why you allowed me to remain ignorant of so important a matter? I was indebted to the public prints, to which my attention was directed by an acquaintance, for a piece of news which should have been communicated to me at once."

"My dear sir, I intended to write you as soon as I heard of your arrival. I did not know till this moment that you were in America."

"You might have inferred it from the intimation in my last letter.

Why did you not cable me the news?"

"Because," replied Duncan awkwardly, "I did not wish to spoil your pleasure, and thought from day to day that the box would turn up."

"You were very sparing of my feelings," said Armstrong, dryly— "too much so. I am not a child or an old woman, and it was your imperative duty, in a matter so nearly affecting my interests, to apprise me at once."

"I may have erred in judgment," said Duncan meekly, "but I beg you to believe that I acted as I supposed for the best."

"Leaving that out of consideration at present, let me know what steps you have taken to find out how the box was spirited away, or who was concerned in the robbery."

"I think that you will admit that I acted promptly," said the bank president complacently, "when I say that within twenty-four hours I arrested a party on suspicion of being implicated in the robbery, and tried him myself."

"Who was the party?" asked the capitalist, not betraying the knowledge he had already assessed on the subject.

"A boy in the village named Luke Larkin."

"Humph! What led you to think a boy had broken into the bank?

That does not strike me as very sharp on your part."

"I had positive evidence that the boy in question had a tin box concealed in his house—in his mother's trunk. His poverty made it impossible that the box could be his, and I accordingly had him arrested."

"Well, what was the result of the trial?"

"I was obliged to let him go, though by no means satisfied of his innocence."

"Why?"

"A man—a stranger—a very suspicious-looking person, presented himself, and swore that the box was his, and that he had committed it to the charge of this boy."

"Well, that seems tolerably satisfactory, doesn't it?—that is, if he furnished evidence confirming his statement. Did he open the box in court?"

"Yes."

"And the bonds were not there?"

"The bonds were not there only some papers, and what appeared to be certificates of stock."

"Yet you say you are still suspicious of this man and boy."

"Yes."

"Explain your grounds."

"I thought," replied the president, rather meekly, "he might have taken the bonds from the box and put in other papers."

"That was not very probable. Moreover, he would hardly be likely to leave the box in the village in the charge of a boy."

"The boy might have been his confederate."

"What is the boy's reputation in the village? Has he ever been detected in any act of dishonesty?"

"Not that I know of, but there is one suspicious circumstance to which I would like to call your attention."

"Well?"

"Since this happened Luke has come out in new clothes, and wears a silver watch. The family is very poor, and he could not have had money to buy them unless he obtained some outside aid."

"What, then, do you infer?"

"That he has been handsomely paid for his complicity in the robbery."

"What explanation does he personally give of this unusual expenditure?"

"He admits that they were paid for by this suspicious stranger."

"Has the stranger—what is his name, by the way?"

"Roland Reed, he calls himself, but this, probably, is not his real name."

"Well, has this Reed made his appearance in the village since?"

"If so, he has come during the night, and has not been seen by any of us."

"I can't say I share your suspicion against Mr. Reed. Your theory that he took out the bonds and substituted other papers is far-fetched and improbable. As to the boy, I consider him honest and reliable."

"Do you know Luke Larkin?" asked Mr. Duncan quickly.

"Last summer I observed him somewhat, and never saw anything wrong in him."

"Appearances are deceitful," said the bank president sententiously.

"So I have heard," returned Mr. Armstrong dryly. "But let us go on.

What other steps have you taken to discover the lost box?"

"I have had the bank vaults thoroughly searched," answered Duncan, trying to make the best of a weak situation.

"Of course. It is hardly to be supposed that it has been mislaid. Even if it had been it would have turned up before this. Did you discover any traces of the bank being forcibly entered?"

"No; but the burglar may have covered his tracks."

"There would have been something to show an entrance. What is the character of the cashier and teller."

"I know nothing to their disadvantage."

"Then neither have fallen under suspicion?"

"Not as yet," answered the president pointedly.

"It is evident," thought John Armstrong, "that Mr. Duncan is interested in diverting suspicion from some quarter. He is willing that these men should incur suspicion, though it is clear he has none in his own mind."

"Well, what else have you done? Have you employed detectives?" asked Armstrong, impatiently.

"I was about to do so," answered Mr. Duncan, in some embarrassment, "when I heard that you were coming home, and I thought I would defer that matter for your consideration."

"Giving time in the meanwhile for the thief or thieves to dispose of their booty? This is very strange conduct, Mr. Duncan."

"I acted for the best," said Prince Duncan.

"You have singular ideas of what is best, then," observed Mr. Armstrong coldly. "It may be too late to remedy your singular neglect, but I will now take the matter out of your hands, and see what I can do."

"Will you employ detectives?" asked Duncan, with evident uneasiness.

Armstrong eyed him sharply, and with growing suspicion.

"I can't say what I will do."

"Have you the numbers of the missing bonds?" asked Duncan anxiously.

"I am not sure. I am afraid I have not."

Was it imagination, or did the bank president look relieved at this statement? John Armstrong made a mental note of this.

After eliciting the particulars of the disappearance of the bonds, John Armstrong rose to go. He intended to return to the city, but he made up his mind to see Luke first. He wanted to inquire the address of Roland Reed.

CHAPTER XXII

LUKE SECURES A NEW FRIEND

Luke was engaged in copying when Mr. Armstrong called. Though he felt surprised to see his visitor, Luke did not exhibit it in his manner, but welcomed him politely, and invited him into the sitting-room.

"I have called to inquire the address of your friend, Mr. Roland Reed," said Mr. Armstrong. Then, seeing a little uneasiness in Luke's face, he added quickly: "Don't think I have the slightest suspicion of him as regards the loss of the bonds. I wish only to consult him, being myself at a loss what steps to take. He may be able to help me."

Of course, Luke cheerfully complied with his request.

"Has anything been heard yet at the bank?" he asked.

"Nothing whatever. In fact, it does not appear to me that any very serious efforts have been made to trace the robber or robbers. I am left to undertake the task myself."

"If there is anything I can do to help you, Mr. Armstrong, I shall be very glad to do so," said Luke.

"I will bear that in mind, and may call upon you. As yet, my plans are not arranged. Perhaps Mr. Reed, whom I take to be an experienced man of the world, may be able to offer a suggestion. You seem to be at work," he added, with a look at the table at which Luke had been sitting.

"Yes, sir, I am making out some bills for Mr. Reed."

"Is the work likely to occupy you long?"

"No, sir; I shall probably finish the work this week."

"And then your time will be at your disposal?"

"Yes, sir."

"Pardon me the question, but I take it your means are limited?"

"Yes, sir; till recently they have been very limited—now, thanks to Mr. Reed, who pays a liberal salary for his little girl's board, we are very comfortable, and can get along very well, even if I do not immediately find work."

"I am glad to hear that. If I should hear of any employment likely to please you I will send you word."

"Thank you, sir."

"Would you object to leave home?"

"No, sir; there is little or no prospect in Groveton, and though my mother would miss me, she now has company, and I should feel easier about leaving her."

"If you can spare the time, won't you walk with me to the depot?"

"With great pleasure, sir," and Luke went into the adjoining room to fetch his hat, at the same time apprising his mother that he was going out.

On the way to the depot Mr. Armstrong managed to draw out Luke with a view to getting better acquainted with him, and forming an idea of his traits of character. Luke was quite aware of this, but talked frankly and easily, having nothing to conceal.

"A thoroughly good boy, and a smart boy, too!" said Armstrong to himself. "I must see if I can't give him a chance to rise. He seems absolutely reliable."

On the way to the depot they met Randolph Duncan, who eyed them curiously. He recognized Mr. Armstrong as the owner of the stolen bonds—and was a good deal surprised to see him in such friendly conversation with Luke. Knowing Mr. Armstrong to be a rich man, he determined to claim acquaintance.

"How do you do, Mr. Armstrong?" he said, advancing with an ingratiating smile.

"This is Randolph Duncan," said Luke—whom, by the way, Randolph had not thought it necessary to notice.

"I believe I have met the young gentleman before," said Mr.

Armstrong politely, but not cordially.

"Yes, sir, I have seen you at our house," continued Randolph—"my father is president of the Groveton Bank. He will be very glad to see you. Won't you come home with me?"

"I have already called upon your father," said Mr. Armstrong.

"I am very sorry your bonds were stolen, Mr. Armstrong."

"Not more than I am, I assure you," returned Mr. Armstrong, with a quizzical smile.

"Could I speak with you a moment in private, sir?" asked Randolph, with a significant glance at Luke.

"Certainly; Luke, will you cross the road a minute? Now, young man!"

"Probably you don't know that the boy you are walking with was suspected of taking the box from the bank."

"I have heard so; but he was acquitted of the charge, wasn't he?"

"My father still believes that he had something to do with it, and so do I," added Randolph, with an emphatic nod of his head.

"Isn't he a friend of yours?" asked Mr. Armstrong quietly.

"No, indeed; we go to the same school, though father thinks of sending me to an academy out of town soon, but there is no friendship between us. He is only a working boy."

"Humph! That is very much against him," observed Mr. Armstrong, but it was hard to tell from his tone whether he spoke in earnest or ironically.

"Oh, well, he has to work, for the family is very poor. He's come out in new clothes and a silver watch since the robbery. He says the strange man from whom he received a tin box just like yours gave them to him."

"And you think he didn't get them in that way?"

"Yes, I think they were leagued together. I feel sure that man robbed the bank."

"Dear me, it does look suspicious!" remarked Armstrong.

"If Luke was guiding you to the train, I will take his place, sir."

"Thank you, but perhaps I had better keep him with me, and cross-examine him a little. I suppose I can depend upon your keeping your eyes upon him, and letting me know of any suspicious conduct on his part?"

"Yes, sir, I will do it with pleasure," Randolph announced promptly. He felt sure that he had excited Mr. Armstrong's suspicions, and defeated any plans Luke might have cherished of getting in with the capitalist.

"Have you anything more to communicate?" asked Mr. Armstrong, politely.

"No, sir; I thought it best to put you on your guard."

"I quite appreciate your motives, Master Randolph. I shall keep my eyes open henceforth, and hope in time to discover the real perpetrator of the robbery. Now, Luke."

"I have dished you, young fellow!" thought Randolph, with a triumphant glance at the unconscious Luke. He walked away in high self-satisfaction.

"Luke," said Mr. Armstrong, as they resumed their walk, "Randolph seems a very warm friend of yours."

"I never thought so," said Luke, with an answering smile. "I am glad if he has changed."

"What arrangements do you think I have made with him?"

"I don't know, sir."

"I have asked him to keep his eye on you, and, if he sees anything suspicious, to let me know."

Luke would have been disturbed by this remark, had not the smile on Mr. Armstrong's face belied his words.

"Does he think you are in earnest, sir?"

"Oh, yes, he has no doubt of it. He warned me of your character, and said he was quite sure that you and your friend Mr. Reed were implicated in the bank robbery. I told him I would cross-examine you, and see what I could find out. Randolph told me that you were only a working boy, which I pronounced to be very much against you."

Luke laughed outright.

"I think you are fond of a practical joke, Mr. Armstrong," he said.

"You have fooled Randolph very neatly."

"I had an object in it," said Mr. Armstrong quietly. "I may have occasion to employ you in the matter, and if so, it will be well that no arrangement is suspected between us. Randolph will undoubtedly inform his father of what happened this morning."

"As I said before, sir, I am ready to do anything that lies in my power."

Luke could not help feeling curious as to the character of the service he would be called upon to perform. He found it difficult to hazard a conjecture, but one thing at least seemed clear, and this was that Mr. Armstrong was disposed to be his friend, and as he was a rich man his friendship was likely to amount to some thing.

They had now reached the depot, and in ten minutes the train was due.

"Don't wait if you wish to get to work, Luke," said Mr.

Armstrong kindly.

"My work can wait; it is nearly finished," said Luke.

The ten minutes passed rapidly, and with a cordial good-bye, the capitalist entered the train, leaving Luke to return to his modest home in good spirits.

"I have two influential friends, now," he said to himself—"Mr. Reed and Mr. Armstrong. On the whole, Luke Larkin, you are in luck, your prospects look decidedly bright, even if you have lost the janitorship."

CHAPTER XXIII

RANDOLPH AND HIS CREDITOR

Though Randolph was pleased at having, as he thought, put a spoke in Luke's wheel, and filled Mr. Armstrong's mind with suspicion, he was not altogether happy. He had a little private trouble of his own. He had now for some time been a frequenter of Tony Denton's billiard saloon, patronizing both the table and the bar. He had fallen in with a few young men of no social standing, who flattered him, and, therefore, stood in his good graces. With them he played billiards and drank. After a time he found that he was exceeding his allowance, but in the most obliging way Tony Denton had offered him credit.

"Of course, Mr. Duncan"—Randolph felt flattered at being addressed in this way—"of course, Mr. Duncan, your credit is good with me. If you haven't the ready money, and I know most young gentlemen are liable to be short, I will just keep an account, and you can settle at your convenience."

This seemed very obliging, but I am disposed to think that a boy's worst enemy is the one who makes it easy for him to run into debt.

Randolph was not wholly without caution, for he said: "But suppose, Tony, I am not able to pay when you want the money?"

"Oh, don't trouble yourself about that, Mr. Duncan," said Tony cordially. "Of course, I know the standing of your family, and I am perfectly safe. Some time you will be a rich man."

"Yes, I suppose I shall," said Randolph, in a consequential tone.

"And it is worth something to me to have my saloon patronized by a young gentleman of your social standing."

Evidently, Tony Denton understood Randolph's weak point, and played on it skillfully. He assumed an air of extra consequence, as he remarked condescendingly: "You are very obliging, Tony, and I shall not forget it."

Tony Denton laughed in his sleeve at the boy's vanity, but his manner was very respectful, and Randolph looked upon him as an humble friend and admirer.

"He is a sensible man, Tony; he understands what is due to my position," he said to himself.

After Denton's visit to New York with Prince Duncan, and the knowledge which he then acquired about the president of the Groveton Bank, he decided that the time had come to cut short Randolph's credit with him. The day of reckoning always comes in such cases, as I hope my young friends will fully understand. Debt is much more easily contracted than liquidated, and this Randolph found to his cost.

One morning he was about to start on a game of billiards, when Tony Denton called him aside.

"I would like to speak a word to you, Mr. Duncan," he said smoothly.

"All right, Tony," said Randolph, in a patronizing tone. "What can I do for you?"

"My rent comes due to-morrow, Mr. Duncan, and I should be glad if you would pay me a part of your account. It has been running some time—" Randolph's jaw fell, and he looked blank.

"How much do I owe you?" he asked.

Tony referred to a long ledgerlike account-book, turned to a certain page, and running his fingers down a long series of items, answered, "Twenty-seven dollars and sixty cents."

"It can't be so much!" ejaculated Randolph, in dismay. "Surely you have made a mistake!"

"You can look for yourself," said Tony suavely. "Just reckon it up;

I may have made a little mistake in the sum total."

Randolph looked over the items, but he was nervous, and the page swam before his eyes. He was quite incapable of performing the addition, simple as it was, in his then frame of mind.

"I dare say you have added it up all right," he said, after an abortive attempt to reckon it up, "but I can hardly believe that I owe you so much."

"'Many a little makes a mickle,' as we Scotch say," answered Tony cheerfully. "However, twenty-seven dollars is a mere trifle to a young man like you. Come, if you'll pay me to-night, I'll knock off the sixty cents."

"It's quite impossible for me to do it," said Randolph, ill at ease.

"Pay me something on account—say ten dollars."

"I haven't got but a dollar and a quarter in my pocket."

"Oh, well, you know where to go for more money," said Tony, with a wink. "The old gentleman's got plenty."

"I am not so sure about that—I mean that he is willing to pay out. Of course, he's got plenty of money invested," added Randolph, who liked to have it thought that his father was a great financial magnate.

"Well, he can spare some for his son, I am sure."

"Can't you let it go for a little while longer, Tony?" asked Randolph, awkwardly.

"Really, Mr. Duncan, I couldn't. I am a poor man, as you know, and have my bills to pay."

"I take it as very disobliging, Tony; I sha'n't care to patronize your place any longer," said Randolph, trying a new tack.

Tony Denton shrugged his shoulders.

"I only care for patrons who are willing to pay their bills," he answered significantly. "It doesn't pay me to keep my place open free."

"Of course not; but I hope you are not afraid of me?"

"Certainly not. I am sure you will act honorably and pay your bills.

If I thought you wouldn't, I would go and see your father about it."

"No, you mustn't do that," said Randolph, alarmed. "He doesn't know I come here."

"And he won't know from me, if you pay what you owe."

Matters were becoming decidedly unpleasant for Randolph. The perspiration gathered on his brow. He didn't know what to do. That his father would not give him money for any such purpose, he very well knew, and he dreaded his finding out where he spent so many of his evenings.

"Oh, don't trouble yourself about a trifle," said Tony smoothly. "Just go up to your father, frankly, and tell him you want the money."

"He wouldn't give me twenty-seven dollars," said Randolph gloomily.

"Then ask for ten, and I'll wait for the balance till next week."

"Can't you put it all off till next week?"

"No; I really couldn't, Mr. Duncan. What does it matter to you this week, or next?"

Randolph wished to put off as long as possible the inevitable moment, though he knew it would do him no good in the end. But Tony Denton was inflexible—and he finally said: "Well, I'll make the attempt, but I know I shall fail."

"That's all right; I knew you would look at it in the right light.

Now, go ahead and play your game."

"No, I don't want to increase my debt."

"Oh, I won't charge you for what you play this evening. Tony Denton can be liberal as well as the next man. Only I have to collect money to pay my bills."

Randolph didn't know that all this had been prearranged by the obliging saloon-keeper, and that, in now pressing him, he had his own object in view.

The next morning, Randolph took an opportunity to see his father alone.

"Father," he said, "will you do me a favor?"

"What is it, Randolph?"

"Let me have ten dollars."

His father frowned.

"What do you want with ten dollars?" he asked.

"I don't like to go round without money in my pocket. It doesn't look well for the son of a rich man."

"Who told you I was a rich man?" said his father testily.

"Why, you are, aren't you? Everybody in the village says so."

"I may, or may not, be rich, but I don't care to encourage my son in extravagant habits. You say you have no money. Don't you have your regular allowance?"

"It is only two dollars a week."

"Only two dollars a week!" repeated the father angrily. "Let me tell you, young man, that when I was of your age I didn't have twenty-five cents a week."

"That was long ago. People lived differently from what they do now."

"How did they?"

"They didn't live in any style."

"They didn't spend money foolishly, as they do now. I don't see for my part what you can do with even two dollars a week."

"Oh, it melts away, one way or another. I am your only son, and people expect me to spend money. It is expected of one in my position."

"So you can. I consider two dollars a week very liberal."

"You'd understand better if you were a young fellow like me how hard it is to get along on that."

"I don't want to understand," returned his father stoutly. "One thing I understand, and that is, that the boys of the present day are foolishly extravagant. Think of Luke Larkin! Do you think he spends two dollars even in a month?"