Struggling Upward: Luke Larkin's Luck

RANDOLPH IS MYSTIFIED

In an hour, Luke, with the little girl under his charge, was on his way to the depot, accompanied by Mr. Reed, who paid for their tickets, and bade them good-bye, promising to communicate with Luke.

Rosa Reed was a bright little girl of about eight years of age.  She made no opposition to going with Luke, but put her hand confidently in his, and expressed much pleasure at the prospect of living in the country.  She had been under the care of two maiden ladies, the Misses Graham, who had no love for children, and had merely accepted the charge on account of the liberal terms paid them by the father.  They seemed displeased at the withdrawal of Rosa, and clearly signified this by their cold, stiff reception of Mr. Reed and Luke.

“The old girls don’t like to part with Rosa,” he said, with a smile, as they emerged into the street.

“Are you sorry to leave them, Rosa?” he inquired.

“No; they ain’t a bit pleasant,” answered the little girl, decidedly.

“Were they strict with you?” asked Luke.

“Yes; they were always saying, ’Little girls should be seen and not heard!’ They didn’t want me to make a bit of noise, and wouldn’t let me have any little girls in to play with me.  Are there any little girls at your home?”

“No, but there are some living near by, and they will come to see you.”

“That will be nice,” said Rosa, with satisfaction.

Directions were left to have the little girl’s trunk go to Groveton by express, and, therefore, Luke was encumbered only by a small satchel belonging to his new charge.

Of the details of the journey it is unnecessary to speak.  The two young travelers arrived at Groveton, and, as it chanced, reached Luke’s cottage without attracting much observation.  The door was opened by the widow, whose kind manner at once won the favor of the child.

“I like you much better than Miss Graham,” she said, with childish frankness.

“I am glad of that, my child,” said Mrs. Larkin.  “I will try to make this a pleasant home for you.”

“I like Luke, too,” said Rosa.

“Really, Rosa, you make me blush,” said Luke.  “I am not used to hearing young ladies say they like me.”

“I think he is a good boy,” said Rosa, reflectively.  “Isn’t he, Mrs. Larkin?”

“I think so, my dear,” said the widow, smiling.

“Then I suppose I shall have to behave like one,” said Luke.  “Do you think I have improved in appearance, mother?”

“I noticed your new suit at once, Luke.”

“I have another in this bundle, mother; and that isn’t all.  Do you see this watch?  I sha’n’t mourn the loss of the Waterbury any longer.”

“Mr. Reed is certainly proving a kind friend, Luke.  We have much reason to be grateful.”

“He has also provided me with employment for a time, mother.”  And then Luke told his mother about the copying he had engaged to do.

It is hardy necessary to say that the heart of the widow was unfeignedly thankful for the favorable change in their fortunes, and she did not omit to give thanks to Providence for raising up so kind and serviceable a friend.

About the middle of the afternoon Luke made his appearance in the village street.  Though I hope my readers will not suspect him of being a dude, he certainly did enjoy the consciousness of being well dressed.  He hoped he should meet Randolph, anticipating the surprise and disappointment of the latter at the evidence of his prosperity.

When Luke was arrested, Randolph rejoiced as only a mean and spiteful boy would be capable of doing at the humiliation and anticipated disgrace of a boy whom he disliked.  He had indulged in more than one expression of triumph, and sought every opportunity of discussing the subject, to the disgust of all fair-minded persons.  Even Sam Noble protested, though a toady of Randolph.

“Look here, Randolph,” he said, “I don’t like Luke overmuch, and I know he doesn’t like me, but I don’t believe he’s a thief, and I am sorry he is in trouble.”

“Then you are no friend of mine,” said Randolph, looking black.

“Oh, I say, Randolph, you know better than that.  Haven’t I always stood up for you, and done whatever you wanted me to?”

“If you were my friend you wouldn’t stand up for Luke.”

“I am not a friend of his, and I am a friend of yours, but I don’t want him to go to prison.”

“I do, if he deserves it.”

“I don’t believe he does deserve it.”

“That is what I complain of in you.”

“The fact is, Randolph, you expect too much.  If you want to break friendship, all right.”

Randolph was amazed at this unexpected independence on the part of one whom he regarded as his bond slave; but, being hardly prepared to part with him, especially as his other follower, Tom Harper, had partially thrown off his allegiance, thought it prudent to be satisfied with Sam’s expressions of loyalty, even if they did not go as far as he wished.

Randolph missed Luke at school on the day after the trial.  Of course, he had no idea that our hero was out of school, and hastily concluded that on account of his trial he was ashamed to show himself.

“I don’t wonder he doesn’t want to show himself,” he remarked to Tom Harper.

“Why not?  He has been acquitted.”

“Never mind.  He has been under arrest, and may yet be guilty in spite of his acquittal.  Have you seen him to-day?”

“No.”

“Probably he is hiding at home.  Well, it shows some sort of shame.”

On his way home from school Randolph was destined to be surprised.  Not far from his own house he met Luke, arrayed in his new suit, with a chain that looked like gold crossing his waistcoat.  Instead of looking confused and ashamed, Luke looked uncommonly bright and cheerful.

Randolph was amazed.  What could it all mean?  He had intended not to notice Luke, but to pass him with a scornful smile, but his curiosity got the better of him.

“Why were you not at school to-day?” he asked, abruptly.

Luke smiled.

“I didn’t think you would miss me, Randolph.”

“I didn’t, but wondered at your absence.”

“I was detained by business.  I expect to have the pleasure of seeing you there to-morrow.”

“Humph!  You seem to have invested in a new suit.”

“Yes; my old suit was getting decidedly shabby, as you kindly remarked at Florence Grant’s party.”

“Where did you get them?”

“In New York.”

“In New York!” repeated Randolph, in surprise.  “When did you go there?”

“This morning.  It was that which detained me from school.”

“I see you’ve got a new watch-chain, too.”

Randolph emphasized the word “chain” satirically, being under the impression that no watch was attached.

“Yes; you may like to see my new watch.”  And Luke, with pardonable triumph, produced his new watch, which was a stem-winder, whereas Randolph’s was only a key-winder.

Randolph condescended to take the watch in his hands and examine it.

“Where was this bought?” he asked.

“At Benedict’s.”

“You seem to have plenty of money,” he said, with unpleasant significance.

“I should like more.”

“Only you are rather imprudent in making such extensive purchases so soon after your trial.”

“What do you mean?” demanded Luke quickly.

“What should I mean?  It is evident that you robbed the bank, after all.  I shall tell my father, and you may find your trouble is not over.”

“Look here, Randolph Duncan!” said Luke sternly, “I look upon that as an insult, and I don’t mean to be insulted.  I am no more a thief than you are, and that you know.”

“Do you mean to charge me with being a thief?” fumed Randolph.

“No; I only say you are as much a thief as I am.  If you repeat your insult, I shall be obliged to knock you down.”

“You impudent loafer!” screamed Randolph.  “You’ll be sorry for this.  I’ll have you arrested over again.”

“I have no doubt you would if you had the power.  I sha’n’t lie awake nights thinking of it.  If you have nothing more to say I will leave you.”

Randolph did not reply, probably because he was at a loss what to say, but went home angry and mystified.  Where could Luke have got his watch and new suit?  He asked himself this many times, but no possible explanation suggested itself.

Scarcely had Luke parted with Randolph when he met his friend Linton, who surveyed Luke’s improved appearance with pleasure and surprise.

“I say, Luke, are you setting up for a dude?”

“I thought a little of it,” answered Luke, with a smile—­and then he explained the cause of his good fortune.  “I have only one regret,” he added, “Randolph seems to be grieved over it.  He liked me better in my old suit.  Besides, I have a new watch, and it turns out to be better than his.”

Here he displayed his new silver watch.  Linton felt a generous pleasure in Luke’s luck, and it may truly be said rejoiced more at it than he would at any piece of good fortune to himself.

“By the way, Luke,” he said, “I am going to give a party next Thursday evening, and I give you the very first invitation.  It is my birthday, you know.”

“I accept with pleasure, sir.  I look upon you as my warmest friend, and as long as I retain your friendship I shall not care for Randolph’s malice.”