"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.
Pages:
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113