Luke Walton. Horatio Alger Jr.
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