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CHAPTER XIX
A SENSATIONAL INCIDENT
When Luke brought home the dress pattern his mother was much pleased.
"I have needed a dress for a good while," she said, "but I never felt that I could spare the money to buy even a common one. This material is very nice."
"It cost seventy-five cents a yard. I was with Mrs. Merton when she bought it."
"I hope you didn't hint to Mrs. Merton that I needed one."
"No, that isn't like me, mother, but I own that I was very glad when she thought of it."
"Please tell her how grateful I am."
"I will certainly do so. Now, mother, I want you to have it made up at once. I can spare the money necessary."
"It will cost very little. I will have it cut by a dress maker and make it up myself. I hope you will long retain the friendship of Mrs.
Merton."
"It won't by my fault if I don't. But I can't help seeing that her niece, Mrs. Tracy, and Harold, a boy about my age, look upon me with dislike."
"Why should they? I don't see how anyone can dislike you."
"You are my mother and are prejudiced in my favor. But I am sure they have no reason to dislike me. I think, however, they are jealous, and fear the old lady will look upon me with too much favor. She is very rich, I hear, and they expect to inherit all her fortune."
"Money makes people mean and unjust."
"If I can only get hold of some, I'll run the risk of that," said Luke. "I should feel a good deal more comfortable if I hadn't two enemies in the house."
"Do your duty, my son, and leave the rest to G.o.d. It isn't well to borrow trouble."
"No doubt you are right, mother. I will follow your advice."
The next morning Luke was at his usual stand near the Sherman House when a boy who was pa.s.sing uttered a slight exclamation of surprise.
Looking up, Luke recognized Harold Tracy.
"So it's you, is it?" said Harold, not over politely.
"Yes," answered Luke. "I hope you are well."
"I didn't know you were a newsboy."
"I spend a part of my time in selling papers."
"Does Mrs. Merton know you are a newsboy?"
"I think I have told her, but I am not certain."
"It must be inconvenient for you to come so far as our house every day?"
"Of course it takes up some time, but Mrs. Merton does not allow me to work for nothing."
"How much does Aunt Eliza pay you?"
"I would rather you would ask Mrs. Merton. I am not sure that she would care to have me tell."
"You seem to forget that I am her nephew that is, her grandnephew. It is hardly likely she would keep such a thing secret from me."
"That may be, but I would rather you would ask her."
"Does she pay you more than two dollars a week?"
"Again I must refer you to her."
"It is ridiculous to make a secret of such a trifle," said Harold, annoyed.
"How much do you make selling papers?" he asked.
"I averaged about seventy-five cents a day before I began to work for Mrs. Merton. Now I don't make as much."
"Why don't you black boots, too? Many of the newsboys do?"
"I never cared to take up that business."
"If you should go into it, I would give you a job now and then."
"I am not likely to go into that business, but I shall be glad to sell you a paper whenever you need one."
"You are not too proud to black boots, are you?" persisted Harold.
"I don't think it necessary to answer that question. I have always got along without it so far."
Harold carried the news home to his mother that Luke was a newsboy, and Mrs. Tracy found an opportunity to mention it at the supper table.
"Harold saw your paragon this morning, Aunt Eliza," she commenced.
"Have I a paragon? I really wasn't aware of it," returned the old lady.
"Your errand boy."
"Oh, Luke. Where did you see him, Harold?"
"He was selling papers near the Sherman House."
"I hope you bought one of him."