CHAPTER XX
"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.
CHAPTER XXI. IN THE TAILOR'S POWER
"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.
CHAPTER XXII. THE COMING OF THE MAGICIAN
The week passed and Luke carefully avoided our hero going so far as to cross the street so as not to meet him. On Saturday evening, according to his arrangement, Luke was to have paid the surplus of his wages, after meeting his board bill, to Mr. Merrill, for Harry.
But he did not go near him. On Monday, the tailor meeting him, inquired why he had not kept his agreement.
"The fact is," said Luke, "I have been unlucky."
"How unlucky?"
"I had my wages loose in my pocket, and managed to lose them somehow."
"That is very singular," said the tailor, suspiciously.
"Why is it singular?" asked Luke. "Didn't Harry Walton lose his money?"
"You seem to have lost yours at a very convenient time."
"It's hard on me," said Luke. "Owing so much, I want to pay as quick as I can, so as to have my wages to myself. Don't you see that?"
"Where do you think you lost the money?"
"I'm sure I don't know," said Luke.
"Well," said Merrill, dryly, "I hope you will take better care of your wages next Saturday evening."
"I mean to. I can't afford to lose anymore."
"I don't believe, a word of what he says about losing his money," said the tailor, privately, to Harry. "I think it's only a trick to get rid of paying you."
"Don't you think he'll pay me?" asked Harry.
"He won't if he can help it," was the answer. "He's a slippery customer. I believe his money is in his pocket at this moment."
Mr. Merrill was not quite right; but it was only as to the whereabouts of the money. It was in Luke's trunk. He intended to run away, leaving all his creditors in the lurch. This was the "new way to pay old debts," which occurred to Luke as much the easiest.
The next Saturday evening, Mr. Merrill waited in vain for a call from his debtor.
"What excuse will he have now?" he thought.
On Monday morning he learned that Luke had left town without acquainting anyone with his destination. It transpired, also, that he was owing at his boarding house for two weeks' board. He was thus enabled to depart with nearly thirty dollars, for parts unknown.
"He's a hard case," said Mr. Merrill to Harry. "I am afraid he means to owe us for a long time to come."
"Where do you think he is gone?" asked Harry.
"I have no idea. He has evidently been saving up money to help him out of town. Sometime we may get upon his track, and compel him to pay up."
"That won't do me much good," said Harry, despondently. And then he told the tailor why he wanted the money. "Now," he concluded, "I shan't be able to have the money ready in time."
"You'll have most of it ready, won't you?"
"I think I will."
"I would lend you the money myself," said the tailor, "but I've got a heavy payment to meet and some of my customers are slow pay, though I have not many as bad as Luke Harrison."
"Thank you, Mr. Merrill," said Harry. "I am as much obliged to you as if you could lend the money."
But it is said that misfortunes never come singly. The very next day Mr. Leavitt received a message from the wholesale dealer to whom he sold his shoes, that the market was glutted and sales slow.
"I shall not want any more goods for a month or two," the letter concluded. "I will let you know, when I more."
Mr. Leavitt read this letter aloud in the shop.
"So it seems we are to have a vacation," he said. "That's the worst of the shoe trade. It isn't steady. When it's good everybody rushes into it, and the market soon gets overstocked. Then there's no work for weeks."
This was a catastrophe for which Harry was no prepared. He heard the announcement with a grave face, for to him it was a serious calamity. Twenty-three dollars were all that he had saved from the money lost and this would be increased by a dollar or two only, when he had settled up with Mr. Leavitt. If he stayed here did not obtain work, he must pay his board, and that would soon swallow up his money. Could he get work in any other shop? That was an important question.
"Do you think I can get into any other shop in town?" he inquired anxiously of Mr. Leavitt.
"You can try, Harry; but I guess you'll find others no better off than I."
This was not very encouraging, but Harry determined not to give up without an effort. He devoted the next day to going around among the shoe shops; but everywhere he met with unfavorable answers. Some had ready suspended. Others were about to do so.
"It seems as if all my money must go," thought Harry, looking despondently at his little hoard. "First the ten dollars Luke Harrison stole. Then work stopped. I don't know but it would be better for me to go home."
But the more Harry thought of this, the less he liked it. It would be an inglorious ending to his campaign. Probably now he would not be able to carry out his plan of paying for the cow; but if his father should lose it, he might be able, if he found work, to buy him another Squire Green's cow was not the only cow in the world and all would not be lost if he could not buy her.
"I won't give up yet," said Harry, pluckily. "I must expect to meet with some bad luck. I suppose everybody does. Something'll turn up for me if I try to make it."
This was good philosophy. Waiting passively for something to turn up is bad policy and likely to lead to disappointment; but waiting actively, ready to seize any chance that may offer, is quite different. The world is full of chances, and from such chances so seized has been based many a prosperous career.
During his first idle day, Harry's attention was drawn to a handbill which had been posted up in the store, the post office, the tavern, and other public places in the village. It was to this effect:
"PROFESSOR HENDERSON,
"The celebrated Magician,
"Will exhibit his wonderful feats of Magic and Sleight of Hand in the Town Hall this evening, commencing at 8 o'clock. In the course of the entertainment he will amuse the audience by his wonderful exhibition of Ventriloquism, in which he is unsurpassed.
"Tickets 25 cents. Children under twelve, 15 cents."
In a country village, where amusements are few, such entertainments occupy a far more important place than in a city, where amusements abound.
"Are you going to the exhibition, Walton?" asked Frank Heath.
"I don't know," said Harry.
"Better come. It'll be worth seeing."
In spite of his economy, our hero wanted to go.
"The professor's stopping at the tavern. Come over, and we may see him," said Frank.
CHAPTER XXIII. THE VENTRILOQUIST
The boys went into the public room of the tavern. In the center was a stove, around which were gathered a miscellaneous crowd, who had assembled, as usual, to hear and talk over the news of the day. At the farther end of the room was a bar, where liquor and cigars were sold. The walls of the room, which was rather low-studded, were ornamented by sundry notices and posters of different colors, with here and there an engraving of no great artistic excellence—one representing a horse race, another a steamer of the Cunard Line, and still another, the Presidents of the United States grouped together, with Washington as the central figure.
"Have a cigar, Walton?" asked Frank Heath.
"No, thank you, Frank."
"You haven't got so far along, hey?"
"I don't think it would do me any good," said Harry.
"Maybe not; but jolly comfortable on a cold night. The worst of it is, it's mighty expensive."
Frank walked up to the bar and bought a ten-cent cigar. He returned and sat down on a settee.
"The magician isn't here," said Harry.
"Hush, he is here!" said Frank, in a low voice, as the door opened, and a tall, portly man entered the room.
Professor Henderson—for it was he—walked up the bar, and followed Frank Heath's example in the purchase of a cigar Then he glanced leisurely round the apartment. Apparently, his attention was fixed by our hero, for he walked up to him, and said: "Young man, I would like to speak to you."
"All right, sir," said Harry, in surprise.
"If you are not otherwise occupied, will you accompany me to my room?"
"Certainly, sir," returned Harry, in fresh wonder.
"Perhaps he's going to take in Walton as partner," Frank Heath suggested to Tom Frisbie.
"I wonder what he want anyway?" said Frisbie. "Why didn't he take you?"
"Because I'm too sharp," said Frank. "I should see through his tricks."
Meanwhile, Harry had entered the professor's chamber.
"Sit down," said the magician. "I'll tell you what I want of you. I want you to take tickets at the door of hall to-night. Can you do it?"
"Yes, sir," said Harry, promptly.
"It seems easy enough," said the professor; "but not everyone can do it rapidly without making mistakes. Are you quick at figures?"
"I am usually considered so," said our hero.
"I won't ask whether you are honest, for you would so, of course."
"I hope—" commenced Harry.
"I know what you are going to say; but there is no need of saying it," interrupted the magician. "I judge from your face, which is an honest one. I have traveled about a good deal, and I am a good judge of faces."
"You shall not be disappointed, sir."
"I know that, in advance. Now, tell me if you are at work, or do you attend school?"
"I have been at work in a shoe shop in this village, sir."
"Not now?"
"No, sir; business is dull, and work has given out."
"What are you going to do next?"
"Anything by which I can earn an honest living."
"That's the way to talk. I'll take you into my employ, if you have no objection to travel."
Objection to travel! Who ever heard of a boy of fifteen who had an objection to travel?
"But will your parents consent? That is the next question. I don't want to entice any boys away from home against their parents' consent."
"My parents do not live here. They live farther north, in the town of Granton."
"Granton? I never was there. Is it a large place?"
"No, sir, it is a very small place. My father consented to have me leave home and he will have no objection to my earning my living in any honest way."
"Well, my young friend, I can assure you that my way is an honest one, though I frankly confess I do my best to deceive the people who come to my entertainments."
"What is it you want me to do, sir?"
"Partly what you are going to do to-night—take tickets at the door; but that is not all. I have to carry about considerable apparatus and I need help about arranging it. Sometimes, also, I need help in my experiments. I had a young man with me; but he is taken down with a fever and obliged to go home. It is not likely, as his health is delicate, that he will care to resume his position. I must have somebody in his place. I have no doubt you will answer my purpose."
"How much pay do you give, sir?"
"A practical question," said the professor, smiling.
"To begin with, of course I pay traveling expenses, and I can offer you five dollars a week besides. Will that be satisfactory?"
"Yes, sir," said Harry, his heart giving a great throb of exultation as he realized that his new business would give him two dollars week more than his work in the shop, besides being a good deal more agreeable, since it would give him a chance to see a little of the world.
"Can you start with me to-morrow morning?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then it is settled. But it is time you were at the hall. I will give you a supply of small bills and, change, as you may have to change some bills."
He drew from his side pocket a wallet, which he placed in the hands of our hero.
"This wallet contains twenty dollars," he said: "Of course you will bring me back that amount, in addition to what you take at the door this evening."
"Very well, sir."
"You can wait for me at the close of the evening, and hand me all together. Now go over to the hall, as the doors are to be open at half past seven o'clock."
When Frank Heath and his companion went over to the Town Hall they found Harry making change.
"Hello, Walton!" said Frank. "Are you the treasurer of this concern?"
"It seems so," said Harry.
"You'll let in your friends for nothing, won't you?"
"Not much. I charge them double price."
"Well here's our money. I say, Tom, I wonder the old fellow didn't take me instead of Walton."
"That's easily told. You don't look honest enough."
"Oh, if it comes to that, he passed over you, too, Tom."
"He wouldn't insult a gentleman of my dignity. Come on; there's room on the front seat."
Harry was kept busy till ten minutes after eight. By that time about all who intended to be present were in the hall and the magician was gratified by seeing that it was crowded. He was already well known in the village, having been in the habit of visiting it every for years and his reputation for dexterity, and especially for ventriloquism, had called out this large audience.
The professor's tricks excited great wonder in the younger spectators. I will only dwell slightly on his ventriloquism. When he came to this part of the entertainment, he said: "Will any young gentleman assist me?"
Frank Heath immediately left his seat and took up his position beside the professor.
"Now, sir," said the professor, "I want to ask you a question or two. Will you answer me truly?"
A gruff voice appeared to proceed from Frank's mouth, saying: "Yes, sir."
"Are you married, sir?"
Again the same gruff voice answered: "Yes, sir; I wish I wasn't;" to the great delight of the small boys.
"Indeed, sir! I hope your wife doesn't make it uncomfortable for you."
"She licks me," Frank appeared to answer.
"I am sorry. What does she lick you with?"
"With a broomstick."
Frank looked foolish and there was a general laugh.
"I hope she doesn't treat you so badly very often, sir."
"Yes, she does, every day," was the answer. "If she knowed I was up here telling you, she'd beat me awful."
"In that case, sir, I won't be cruel enough to keep you here any longer. Take my advice, sir, and get a divorce."
"So I will, by hokey!"
And Frank, amid hearty laughter, resumed his seat, not having uttered a word, the professor being responsible for the whole conversation.