"There's a model for you," said the tailor to Maurice Tudor. "He won't pay his bills."
How did you come to trust him in the first place?
I didn't know him then as well as I do now. I make it a practice to accommodate my customers by trusting them for a month or two, if they want it. But Luke Harrison isn't one to be trusted.
I should say not.
If young Walton wants to get an overcoat on credit, I shan't object. I judge something by looks, and I am sure he is honest.
Well, good night, Mr. Merrill. You'll have my coat done soon?
Yes, Mr. Tudor. It shall be ready for you to-morrow.
Maurice Tudor left the tailor's shop, revolving a new idea which had just entered his mind. Now he remembered that he had at home and excellent overcoat which he had worn the previous winter, but which was now too small for him. He had no younger brother to wear it, nor in his circumstances was such economy necessary. As well as he could judge by observing Harry's figure, it would be an excellent fit for him. Why should he not give it to him?
The opportunity came. On his way home he overtook our hero, plunged in thought. In fact, he was still occupied with the problem of the needed overcoat.
Good evening, Harry, said young Tudor.
Good evening, Mr. Tudor, answered Harry. "Are you going back to the city soon?"
In the course of a week or two. Mr. Leavitt's son is in a store in Boston, is he not?
Yes. I have taken his place in the shop.
By the way, I saw you in Merrill's this evening.
Yes; I was pricing an overcoat.
I bought this one in Boston just before I came away. I have a very good one left from last winter but it is too small for me. It is of no use to me. If I thought you would accept it, I would offer it to you.
Harry's heart gave a joyful bound.
Accept it! he repeated. "Indeed I will and thank you for your great kindness."
Then I will write home at once to have it sent to me. I also have a suit which I have outgrown; if you wouldn't be too proud to take it.
I am not so foolish. It will be a great favor.
I thought you would take it right, said Maurice, well pleased. "I will also send for the suit. I will get my mother to forward them by express."
They will be as good as money to me, said Harry; "and that is not very plenty with me."
Will you tell me something of your circumstances? Perhaps I may have it in my power to help you.
Harry, assured of his friendly interest, did not hesitate to give him a full account of his plans in life, and especially of his desire to relieve his father of the burden of poverty. His straightforward narrative made a very favorable impression upon Maurice, who could not help reflecting: "How far superior this boy is to Luke Harrison and his tribe!"
Thank you for telling me all this, he said. "It was not from mere curiosity that I asked."
I am sure of that, said Harry. "Thanks to your generosity, I shall present a much more respectable appearance, besides being made more comfortable."
Three days later a large bundle was brought by the village expressman to Mr. Leavitt's door.
A bundle for you, Walton, said the expressman, seeing Harry in the yard.
What is there to pay? he asked.
Nothing. It was prepaid in the city?
Harry took it up to his room and opened it eagerly. First came the promised overcoat. It was of very handsome French cloth, with a velvet collar, and rich silk facings, far higher in cost than any Mr. Merrill would have made for him. It fitted as if it had been made for him. Next came, not one, but two complete suits embracing coat, vest and pants. One of pepper-and-salt cloth, the other a dark blue. These, also, so similar was he in figure to Maurice, fitted him equally well. The clothes which he brought with from form Granton were not only of coarse material but were far from stylish in cut, whereas these garments had been made by a fashionable Boston tailor and set off his figure to much greater advantage.
I wonder what Luke Harrison will say? said our hero to himself, smiling, as he thought of the surprise of Luke at witnessing his transformation.
I've a great mind to keep these on to-night, he said.
Perhaps I shall meet Luke. He won't have anything more to say about my going without an overcoat.
After supper Harry, arrayed in his best suit and wearing the overcoat, walked down tot he center of the village.
Luke was standing on the piazza of the tavern.
Luke, see how Walton is dressed up! exclaimed Frank Heath, who was the first to see our hero.
Dressed up! repeated Luke, who was rather shortsighted. "That would be a good joke."
He's got a splendid overcoat, continued Frank.
Where'd he get it? Merrill hasn't been making him one.
It's none of Merrill's work. It's too stylish for him.
By this time Harry had come within Luke's range of vision. The latter surveyed him with astonishment and it must be confessed, with disappointment; for he had been fond of sneering at Harry's clothes, and now the latter was far better dressed than himself.
Where did you get that coat, Walton? asked Luke, the instant Harry came up.
Honestly, said Harry, shortly.
Have you got anything else new?
Harry opened his coat and displayed the suit.
Well, you are coming out, Walton, that's a fact, said Frank Heath. "That's a splendid suit."
I thought you couldn't afford to buy a coat, said Luke.
You see I've got one, answered Harry.
How much did it cost?
That's a secret.
Here he left Luke and Frank.
Well, Luke, what do you say to that? said Frank Heath.
Luke said nothing. He was astonished and unhappy. He had a fondness for dress and spent a good share of his earnings upon it, paying where he must, and getting credit besides where he could. But he had never had so stylish a suit as this and it depressed him.
There was one other tailor in the village, James Hayden, and to him Luke Harrison determined to transfer his custom, hoping to be allowed to run up a bill with him. He did not like his style of cut as well as Merrill's, but from the latter he was cut off unless he would pay the old bill, and this would be inconvenient.
He strolled into James Hayden's shop and asked to look at some cloth for pants.
Hayden was a shrewd man and, knowing that Luke was a customer of his neighbor, suspected the reason of his transfer. However, he showed the cloth, and, a selection having been made, measured him.
When will you have them done? asked Luke.
In three days.
I want them by that time sure.
Of course you pay cash.
Why, said Luke, hesitating, "I suppose you won't mind giving me a month's credit."
Mr. Hayden shook his head.
I couldn't do it. My goods are already paid for and I have to pay for the work. I must have cash.
Merrill always trusted me, pleaded Luke.
Then why did you leave him?
Why, said Luke, a little taken aback, "he didn't cut the last clothes exactly to suit me."
Didn't suit you? I thought you young people preferred his cut to mine. I am old-fashioned. Hadn't you better go back to Merrill?
I've got tired of him, said Luke. "I'll get a pair of pants of you, and see how I like them."
I'll make them but I can't trust.
All right. I'll bring the money, said Luke, who yet thought that he might get off by paying part down when he took the pants.
The old fellow's deuced disobliging, said he o Frank Heath, when they got into the street.
I don't know as I blame him, said Frank.
I wish Merrill wasn't so stiff about it. He's terribly afraid of losing his bill.
That's where he's right, said Frank, laughing. "I'd be the same if I were in his place."
Do you always pay your bills right off? said Luke.
Yes, I do. I don't pretend to be a model boy. I'm afraid I keep bad company, he continued, "but I don't owe a cent to anybody except for board and that I pay up at the end of every week."
Luke dropped the subject, not finding it to his taste.
On Saturday night he went round to the tailor's.
Have you got my pants done, Mr. Hayden?
Yes--here they are.
Let me see, he said, "how much are they?"
Nine dollars.
I'll pay you three dollars to-night and the rest at the end of next week, he said.
Very well; then you may have them at the end of next week.
Why not now? They are done, ain't they?
Yes, said Mr. Hayden; "but not paid for."
Didn't I tell you I'd pay three dollars now?
Our terms are cash down.
You ain't afraid of me, are you? blustered Luke.
You understood when you ordered the pants that they were to be paid for when they were taken.
I hate to see people so afraid of losing their money.
Do you? Was that why you left Merrill?
Luke colored. He suspected that the fact of his unpaid bill at the other tailor's was known to Mr. Hayden.
I've a great mind to leave them on your hands.
I prefer to keep them on my hands, rather than to let them go out of the shop without being paid for.
Frank, said Luke, turning to his companion, "lend me five dollars, can't you?"
I'm the wrong fellow to ask, said he; "I've got to pay my board and another bill to-night."
Oh, let your bills wait.
And lend you the money? Thank you, I ain't so green. When should I get the money again?
Next week.
In a horn. No; I want to wear the pants to-morrow. I'm going out to ride.
I don't see, unless you fork over the spondulies.
I can't. I haven't got enough money.
See Harry Walton.
I don't believe he has got any. He bought a lot of clothes last week. They must have cost a pile.
Can't help it. I saw him open his pocketbook last night and in it was a roll of bills.
Turning to the tailor, Luke said: "Just lay aside the pants and I'll come back for them pretty soon."
Mr. Hayden smiled to himself.
There's nothing like fetching up these fellows with a round turn, he said. "'No money, no clothes'--that's my motto. Merrill told me all about that little bill that sent Luke Harrison over here. He don't run up any bill with me, if I know myself."
Luke went round to the village store. Harry Walton usually spent a part of every evening in instructive reading and study; but after a hard day's work he felt it necessary to pass an hour or so in the open air, so he came down to the center of center of the village.
Hello, Walton! said Luke, accosting him with unusual cordiality. "You are just the fellow I want to see."
Am I? inquired Harry in surprise, for there was no particular friendship or intimacy between them.
Yes; I'm going to ask a little favor of you--a mere trifle. Lend me five or ten dollars for a week. Five will do it, you can't spare more.
Harry shook his head.
I can't do that, Luke.
Why not? Haven't you got as much?
Yes, I've got it.
Then why won't you lend it to me?
I have little money and I can't run any risk.
Do you think I won't pay you back?
Why do you need to borrow of me? You get much higher wages than I do.
I want to pay a bill to-night. I didn't think you'd be so unaccommodating.
I shouldn't be willing to lend to anyone, said Harry.
The money isn't mine. I am going to send it home.
A great sight you are! sneered Luke. "I wanted to see just how mean you were. You've got the money in your pocket but you won't lend it."
This taunt did not particularly disturb Harry. There is a large class like Luke, who offended at being refused a loan, though quite aware that they are never likely to repay it. My young readers will be sure to meet specimens of this class, against whom the only protection is a very firm and decided "No."
Immediately after Thanksgiving Day, the winter schools commenced. That in the center district was kept by a student of Dartmouth college, who had leave of absence from the college authorities for twelve weeks, in order by teaching to earn something to help defray his college expenses. Leonard Morgan, now a junior, was a tall, strongly made young man of twenty-two, whose stalwart frame had not been reduced by his diligent study. There were several shoe shops in the village, each employing from one to three boys, varying in age from fifteen to nineteen. Why could he not form a private class, to meet in the evening, to be instructed in advanced arithmetic, or, if desired, in Latin and Greek? He broached the idea to Stephen Bates, the prudential committeeman.
I don't know, said Mr. Bates, "what our boys will think of it. I've got a boy that I'll send, but whether you'll get enough to make it pay I don't know."
I suppose I can have the schoolhouse, Mr. Bates?
Yes, there won't be no objection. Won't it be too much for you after teachin' in the daytime?
It would take a good deal to break me down.
Then you'd better draw up a notice and put it up in the store and tavern, suggested the committeeman.
In accordance with this advice, the young teacher posted up in the two places the following notice:
"EVENING SCHOOL I propose to start an evening school for those who are occupied during the day, and unable to attend the district school. Instruction will be given in such English branches as may be desired, and also in Latin and Greek, if any are desirous of pursuing a classical course. The school will commence next Monday evening at the schoolhouse, beginning at seven o'clock. Terms: Seventy cents a week, or five dollars for the term of ten weeks.
"LEONARD MORGAN.
Are you going to join the class, Walton? asked Frank Heath.
Yes, said Harry, promptly.
Where'll you get the money? asked Luke Harrison, in a jeering tone.
I shan't have to go far for it.
I don't see how you can spend so much money.
I am willing to spend money when I can get my money's worth, said our hero. "Are you going?"
To school? No, I guess not. I've got through my schooling.
You don't know enough to hurt you, do you, Luke? inquired Frank Heath, slyly.
Nor I don't want to. I know enough to get along.
I don't and never expect to, said Harry.
Do you mean to go to school when you're a gray-headed old veteran? asked Frank, jocosely.
I may not go to school then but I shan't give up learning then, said Harry, smiling. "One can learn without going to school. But while I'm young, I mean to go to school as much as I can."
I guess you're right, said Frank; "I'd go myself, only I'm too lazy. It's hard on a feller to worry his brain with study after he's been at work all day. I don't believe I was cut out for a great scholar."
I don't believe you were, Frank, said Joe Bates.
You always used to stand pretty well down toward the foot of the class when you went to school.
A feller can't be smart as well as handsome. As long as I'm good-looking, I won't complain because I wasn't born with the genius of a Bates.
Thank you for the compliment, Frank, though I suppose it means that I am homely. I haven't got any genius or education to spare.
When Monday evening arrived ten pupils presented themselves, of whom six were boys, or young men, and four were girls. Leonard Morgan felt encouraged. A class of ten, though paying but five dollars each, would give him fifty dollars, which would be quite an acceptable addition to his scanty means.
I am glad to see so many, he said. "I think our evening class will be a success. I will take your names and ascertain what studies you wish to pursue."
When he came to Harry; he asked, "What do you propose to study?"
I should like to take up algebra and Latin, if you are willing, answered our hero.
Have you studied either at all?
No, sir; I have not had an opportunity.
How far have you been in arithmetic?
Through the square and cube root?
If you have been so far, you will have no difficulty with algebra. As to Latin, one of the girls wishes to take up that and I will put you in the class with her.
It will be seen that Harry was growing ambitious. He didn't expect to go to college, though nothing would have pleased him better; but he felt that some knowledge of a foreign language could do him no harm. Franklin, whom he had taken as his great exemplar, didn't go to college; yet he made himself one of the foremost scientific men of the age and acquired enduring reputation, not only as a statesman and a patriot, but chiefly as a philosopher.
A little later, Leonard Morgan came round to the desk at which Harry was sitting.
I brought a Latin grammar with me, he said, "thinking it probable some one might like to begin that language. You can use it until yours comes."
Thank you, said Harry; and he eagerly took the book, and asked to have a lesson set, which was done.
I can get more than that, he said.
How much more?
Twice as much.
Still later he recited the double lesson, and so correctly that the teacher's attention was drawn to him.
That's a smart boy, he said. "I mean to take pains with him. What a pity he can't go to college!"
Harry learned rapidly. At the end of four weeks he had completed the Latin grammar, or that part of it which his teacher, thought necessary for a beginner to be familiar with, and commenced translating the easy sentences in "Andrews' Latin Reader."
You are getting on famously, Harry, said his teacher. "I never had a scholar who advanced so."
I wish I knew as much as you.
Don't give me too much credit. When I compare myself with our professors, I feel dissatisfied.
But you know so much more than I do, said Harry.
I ought to; I am seven years older.
What are you going to study, Mr. Morgan?
I intend to study law.
I should like to be an editor, said Harry; "but I don't see much prospect of it."
Why not?
An editor must know a good deal.
There are some who don't, said Leonard Morgan, with a smile. "However, you would like to do credit to the profession and it is certainly in these modern days a very important profession."
How can I prepare myself?
By doing your best to acquire a good education; not only by study but by reading extensively. An editor should be a man of large information. Have you ever practiced writing compositions?
A little; not much.
If you get time to write anything, and will submit it to me, I will point out such faults as I may notice.
I should like to do that, said Harry, promptly.
What subject shall I take?
You may choose your own subject. Don't be too ambitious but select something upon which you have some ideas of your own.
Suppose I take my motto? 'Live and learn.'
Do so, by all means. That is a subject upon which you may fairly be said to have some ideas of your own.
In due time Harry presented a composition on this subject. The thoughts were good, but, as might be expected, the expression was somewhat crude, and of course the teacher found errors to correct and suggestions to make. These Harry eagerly welcomed and voluntarily proposed to rewrite the composition. The result was a very much improved draft. He sent a copy home and received in reply a letter from his father, expressing surprise and gratification at the excellence of his essay.
I am glad, Harry, the letter concluded, "that you have formed just views of the importance of learning. I have never ceased to regret that my own opportunities for education were so limited and that my time has been so much absorbed by the effort to make a living, that I have been able to do so little toward supplying my deficiencies. Even in a pecuniary way an education will open to you a more prosperous career, and lead, I hope, to competence, instead of the narrow poverty which has been my lot. I will not complain of my own want of success, if I can see my children prosper."
But while intent upon cultivating his mind, Harry had not lost sight of the great object which had sent him from home to seek employment among strangers. He had undertaken to meet the note which his father had given Squire Green in payment for the cow. By the first of December he had saved up thirty-three dollars toward this object. By the middle of January the note would come due.
Of course he had not saved so much without the strictest economy, and by denying himself pleasures which were entirely proper. For instance, he was waited upon by Luke Harrison on the first day of December, and asked to join in a grand sleighing excursion to a town ten miles distant, where it was proposed to take supper, and, after a social time, return late in the evening.
I would like to go, said Harry, who was strongly, tempted, for he was by no means averse to pleasure; "but I am afraid I cannot. How much will it cost?"
Three dollars apiece. That pays for the supper too.
Harry shook his head. It was for rum a week's wages. If he were not trying to save money for his father, he might have ventured to incur this expense, but he felt that under present circumstances it would not be best.
I can't go, said Harry.
Oh, come along, urged Luke. "Don't make such a mope of yourself. You'll be sure to enjoy it."
I know I should; but I can't afford it.
I never knew a feller that thought so much of money as you, sneered Luke.
I suppose it looks so, said Harry; "but it isn't true."
Everybody says you are a miser.
I have good reasons for not going.
If you would come, it would make the expense lighter for the rest of us and you would have a jolly time.
This conversation took place as they were walking home from the store in the evening. Harry pulled out his handkerchief suddenly from his pocket and with it came his pocketbook, containing all his savings. He didn't hear if fall; but Luke did, and the latter, moreover, suspected what it was. He did not call Harry's attention to it, but, falling back, said: "I've got to go back to the store. I forgot something. Good night!"
Good night! said Harry, unsuspiciously.
Luke stooped swiftly while our hero's back was turned, and picked up the pocketbook. He slipped it into his own pocket, and, instead of going back to the store, went to his own room, locked the door, and then eagerly pulled out the pocketbook and counted the contents.
Thirty-three dollars! What a miser that fellow is! It serves him right to lose his money.
Luke Harrison had picked up Harry's pocketbook, and, though knowing it to be his, concealed the discovery upon the impulse of the moment.
What I find is mine, he said to himself. "Of course it is. Harry Walton deserves to lose his money."
It will be seen that he had already decided to keep the money. It looked so tempting to him, as his eyes rested on the thick roll of bills--for, though insignificant in amount, the bills were ones and twos, and twenty in number--that he could not make up his mind to return it.
Luke was fond of new clothes. He wanted to reestablish his credit with Merrill, for he was in want of a new coat and knew that it would be useless to order one unless he had some money to pay on account. He decided to use a part of Harry's money for this purpose. It would be better, however, he thought, to wait a day or two, as the news of the loss would undoubtedly spread abroad, and his order might excite suspicion, particularly as he had been in Harry's company at the time the money disappeared. He therefore put the pocketbook into his trunk, and carefully locked it. Then he went to bed.
Meanwhile, Harry reached Mr. Leavitt's unconscious of the serious misfortune which had befallen him. He went into the sitting room and talked a while with Mr. Leavitt, and at ten o'clock took his lamp and went up to bed. While he was undressing he felt in his pocket for his money, intending to lock it up in his trunk as usual. His dismay may be conceived when he could not find it.
Poor Harry sank into a chair with that sudden sinking of the heart which unlooked-for misfortune brings and tried to think where he could have left the pocketbook.
That evening he found himself under the necessity of buying a necktie at the store, and so had taken it from his trunk. Could he have left it on the counter? No; he distinctly remembered replacing it in his pocket. He felt the need of consulting with somebody, and with his lamp in his hand went downstairs again.
You haven't concluded to sit up all night, have you? asked Mr. Leavitt, surprised at his reappearance.
Are you sick, Harry? asked Mrs. Leavitt. "You're looking dreadfully pale."
I've lost my pocketbook, said Harry. .
How much was there in it? asked his employer.
Thirty-three dollars, answered Harry.
Whew! that's a good deal of money to lose. I shouldn't want to lose so much myself. When did you have it last?
Harry told his story, Mr. Leavitt listening attentively
And you came right home?
Yes.
Alone.
No; Luke Harrison came with me.
Are you two thick together?
Not at all. He doesn't like me, and I don't fancy him.
What was he talking about?
He wanted me to join a sleighing party.
What did you say?
I said I couldn't afford it. Then he charged me with being a miser, as he often does.
Did he come all the way home with you?
No; he left me at Deacon Brewster's. He said he must go back to the store.
There is something queer about this, said Mr. Leavitt, shrewdly. "Do you want my advice?"
Yes; I wish you would advise me, for I don't know what to do.
Then go to the store at once. Ask, but without attracting any attention, if Luke came back there after leaving you. Then ask Mr. Meade, the storekeeper, whether he noticed you put back your pocketbook.
But I know I did.
Then it will be well to say nothing about it, at least publicly. If you find that Luke's excuse was false, and that he did not go back, go at once to his boarding place, and ask him whether he saw you drop the pocketbook. You might have dropped it and he picked it up.
Suppose he says no?
Then we must watch whether he seems flush of money for the next few days.
This seemed to Harry good advice. He retraced his steps to the store, carefully looking for the lost pocketbook. But of course, it was not to be seen and he entered the store troubled and out of spirits.
I thought you went home, Harry, said Frank Heath.
You see I am here again, said our hero.
Time to shut up shop, said Mr. Meade, the storekeeper. "You boys will have to adjourn till to-morrow."
Where's Luke Harrison? asked Frank Heath.
Didn't he go out with you?
Yes; but he left me some time ago. He came back here, didn't he?
No; he hasn't been here since.
He spoke of coming, said Harry. "He wanted me to join that sleighing party."
Good night, boys, said the storekeeper, significantly.
They took the hint and went out. Their way lay in different directions, and they parted company.
Now I must call on Luke, said Harry to himself.
I hope he found the pocketbook. He wouldn't be wicked enough to keep it.
But he was not quite so sure of this as he would like to have been. He felt almost sick as he thought of the possibility that he might never recover the money which he had saved so gladly, though with such painful economy. It represented the entire cash earnings of eleven weeks.
Luke Harrison boarded with a Mr. Glenham, a carpenter, and it was at his door that Harry knocked.
Is Luke Harrison at home? he inquired of Mrs. Glenham, who opened the door.
At home and abed, I reckon, she replied.
I know it's late, Mrs. Glenham, but it is about a matter of importance that I wish to see Luke.
I reckon it's about the sleighing party.
No, it is quite another thing. I won't stay but minute.
Well, I suppose you can go up.
Harry went upstairs and knocked. Ordinarily, Luke would have been asleep, for generally he sank to sleep five minutes after his head touched the pillow; but to-night the excitement of his dishonest intention kept him awake, and he started uneasily when he heard the knock.
Who's there? he called out from the bed.
It's I--Harry Walton.
He's come about that pocketbook, thought Luke.
I'm in bed, he answered.
I want to see you a minute, on a matter of importance.
Come to-morrow morning.
I must see you now.
Oh, well, come in, if you must, said Luke.
"You seem to be in an awful hurry to see me," said Luke, grumbling. "I was just getting to sleep."
I've lost my pocketbook. Have you seen it?
Have I seen it? That's a strange question. How should I have seen it?
I lost it on the way from the store to the house.
Do you mean to charge me with taking it?
I haven't said anything of the sort, said Harry; "but you were with me, and I thought you might have seen it drop out of my pocket."
Did you drop it out of your pocket?
I can't think of any other way I could lose it.
Of course I haven't seen it. Was that all you woke me up about?
Is that all? You talk as if it was a little thing losing thirty-three dollars.
Thirty-three dollars! repeated Luke, pretending to be surprised. "You don't mean to say you've lost all that?"
Yes, I do.
Well, said Luke, yawning, "I wish I could help you; but I can't. Good night."
Good night, said Harry, turning away disappointed.
What success, Harry? inquired Mr. Leavitt, who had deferred going to bed in order to hear his report.
None at all, answered Harry.
Is there anything by which you can identify any of the bills?
Yes, answered Harry, with sudden recollection, "I dropped a penful of ink on one of the bills--a two-dollar note--just in the center. I had been writing a letter, and the bill lay on the table near by."
Good! said Mr. Leavitt. "Now, supposing Luke has taken this money, how is he likely to spend it?"
At the tailor's, most likely. He is always talking about new clothes; but lately he hasn't had any because Merrill shut down on him on account of an unpaid bill.
Then you had better see Merrill and ask him to take particular notice of any bills that Luke pays him.
Innocence must often be suspected, or guilt would never be detected. It is the only way to get on the track of the missing bills.
Harry saw that this was reasonable and decided to call on Merrill the next day.
Do you think Luke took it? asked the tailor.
I don't know. I don't like to suspect him.
I haven't much opinion of Luke. He owes me a considerable bill.
He prefers your clothes to Hayden's, and if he has the money, he will probably come here and spend some of it.
Suppose he does, what do you want me to do?
To examine the bills he pays you, and if you find an ink spot on the center of one let me know.
I understand. I think I can manage it.
My money was mostly in ones and twos.
That may help you. I will bear it in mind.
Two days afterwards, Luke Harrison met Harry.
Have you found your money, Walton? he asked.
No, and I am afraid I never shall, said our hero.
What do you think has become of it?
That's just what I would like to find out, said Harry.
The only thing you can do is to grin and bear it.
And be more careful next time.
Of course.
He's given it up, said Luke to himself. "I think I can venture to use some of it now. I'll go round to Merrill's and see what he's got in the way of pants."
Accordingly he strolled into Merrill's that evening.
Got any new cloths in, Merrill? asked Luke.
I've got some new cloths for pants.
That's just what I want.
You're owing me a bill.
How much is it?
Some over thirty dollars.
I can't pay it all, but I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll pay you fifteen dollars on account, and you can make me a new pair of pants. Will that answer?
All right. Of course I'd rather you'd pay the whole bill. Still I want to be accommodating.
Let me look at your cloths.
The tailor displayed a variety of cloths, one of which suited Luke's fancy.
Here's fifteen dollars, he said. "Just credit me with that on the bill, will you?"
All right, said Merrill.
He proceeded to count the money, which consisted of consisted of ones and twos, and instantly came to the conclusion that it was from Harry's missing pocketbook, particularly as he came upon the identical note with the blot in the center.
Unaware of the manner in which he had betrayed himself, Luke felt quite complacent over his reestablished credit, and that without any expense to himself.
Have you got any new cloth for coats? he asked.
I shall have some new cloths in next week.
All right. When will you have the pants done?
You may call round in two or three days.
Just make 'em in style, Merrill, and I'll send all my friends here.
Very well. I hope you'll soon be able to pay me the balance of my bill.
Oh, yes, to be sure. You won't have to wait long.
He swaggered out of the shop, lighting a cigar.
My young friend, soliloquized the tailor, watching his exit, "you have walked into my trap neatly. Colman,"--turning to a young man present at the time--"did you see Luke Harrison pay me this money?"
Yes; to be sure.
Do you see this blot on one of the bills--a two?
Yes; What of it?
Nothing. I only called your attention to it.
I don't see what there is strange about that. Anybody might get ink on a bill, mightn't he?
Of course.
Colman was puzzled. He could not understand why he should have been called upon to notice such a trifle; but the tailor had his reasons. He wanted to be able to prove by Colman's testimony that the blotted bill was actually put into his hands by Luke Harrison.
"Is that the bill you spoke of, Walton?" asked the tailor, on Harry's next visit to the shop.
Yes, said Harry, eagerly. "Where did you get it?"
You can guess.
From Luke Harrison?
Yes; he paid me, last evening, fifteen dollars on account. This note was among those he paid me.
It is mine. I can swear to it.
The rest of the money was yours, no doubt.
What shall I do, Mr. Merrill?
The money is yours, and I will restore it to you after seeing Luke. I will send for him to be here at seven o'clock this evening.
As Luke was at work in his shop that day, the tailor's boy came in with a note.
Luke opened it and read as follows:
"Will you call at my shop at seven this evening about the pants you ordered? Henry Merrill.""
"Tell your father I'll come, said Luke.
At seven o'clock he entered the tailor's shop once more.
Well, Merrill, what do you want to see me about? he asked. "Have you cut the pants?"
No.
You haven't? I wanted you to go to work on them at once.
I know; but it was necessary to see you first.
Why--didn't you take the measure right?
Luke, said Mr. Merrill, looking him steadily in the eye, "where did you get that money you paid me?"
Where did I get the money? repeated Luke, flushing up. "What makes you ask me that question? Isn't it good money? 'Tisn't counterfeit, is it?"
I asked you where you got it from?
From the man I work for, to be sure, said Luke.
Will you swear to that?
I don't see the use. Can't you take my word?
I may as well tell you that Harry Walton recognizes one of the bills as a part of the money he lost.
He does, does he? said Luke, boldly. "That's all nonsense. Bills all look alike."
This one has a drop of ink just in the center. He remembered having dropped a blot upon it.
What have I to do with that?
It is hardly necessary to explain. The evening he lost the money you were with him. Two days after, you pay me one of the bills which he lost, said the tailor.
Do you mean to say I stole 'em? demanded Luke.
It looks like it, unless you can explain how you came by the blotted bill.
I don't believe I paid you the bill. Very likely it was some one else.
I thought you would say that, so I called Colman's attention to it. However, if your employer admits paying you the bills, of course you are all right.
Luke remembered very well that he was paid in fives, and that such an appeal would do him no good.
Does Walton know this? he asked, sinking into a chair, and wiping the perspiration from his brow.
Yes; he suspected you.
I'd like to choke him! said Luke, fiercely. "The miserly scoundrel!"
It seems to me he is justified in trying to recover his money. What have you done with the rest of it?
Tell me what will be done to me, said Luke, sullenly.
I didn't steal it. I only picked it up when he dropped it. He deserves to lose it, for being so careless.
Why didn't you tell him you had found it?
I meant to give it to him after a while. I only wanted to keep it long enough to frighten him.
That was dangerous, particularly as you used it.
I meant to give him back other money.
I don't think that excuse will avail you in court.
Court of justice! repeated Luke, turning pale.
He won't have me taken up--will he?
He will unless you arrange to restore all the money.
I've paid you part of it.
That I shall hand over to him. Have you the rest?
I've spent a few dollars. I've got eight dollars left.
You had better give it to me.
Reluctantly, Luke drew out his pocketbook and passed the eight dollars to Mr. Merrill.
Now when will you pay the rest?
In a few weeks, said Luke.
That won't do. How much do you earn a week?
Fifteen dollars.
How much do you pay for board?
Four dollars.
Then you will be able to pay eleven dollars at the end of this week.
I can't get along without money, said Luke.
You will have to till you pay back the money, unless you prefer appearing before a court of justice.
Luke was just going out when the tailor called him back.
I believe you owe me thirty dollars. When are you going to pay it?
I can't pay it yet a while, said Luke.
I think you had better, said the tailor quietly.
I'll pay you as soon as I can.
You make eleven dollars a week over and above your board and spend it on drink, billiards and fast horses. You are fully able to pay for your clothes promptly and I advise you to do it.
I'll pay you as soon as I can.
If you neglect to do it, I may as well tell you that I shall let it be known that you stole Walton's pocketbook.
An expression of alarm overspread Luke's face, and he hastily made the required promise. But he added, "I didn't steal it. I only found it."
The whole story would be told, and people might think as they pleased. But it is much better for you to avoid all this by paying your bills.
Luke Harrison left the tailor's shop in a very unhappy and disgusted frame of mind.
If I had the sense to wait till it blew over, he said to himself, "I should have escaped all this: I didn't think Merrill would act so mean. Now I'm in for paying his infernal bill besides. It's too bad."
Just then he came upon Frank Heath, who hailed him.
Luke, come and play a game of billiards.
If you'll promise not to beat me. I haven't got a cent of money.
You haven't? What have you done with those bills you had this afternoon?
I've paid 'em over to Merrill, said Luke, hesitating.
He was in a deuced stew about his bill.
When are your pants going to be ready?
I don't know, said Luke, with a pang of sorrow.
Merrill's making them, isn't he?
He says he won't till I pay the whole bill.
Seems to me your credit ain't very good, Luke.
It's good enough, be he's hard up for money. I guess he's going to fail. If you'll lend me a couple of dollars, I'll go around and have a game.
Frank Heath laughed.
You'll have to go to some one else, Luke, he said.
Luke passed a disagreeable evening. Cut off by his want of money from his ordinary amusements, and depressed by the thought that things would be no better till he had paid his bills, he lounged about, feeling that he was a victim of ill luck. It did not occur to him that that ill luck was of his own bringing.