Luke Walton Part 40

"Why," said Harold, uneasily, "I am supposed to be rich, as I live in a nice neighborhood on a fas.h.i.+onable street."

"That doesn't make you rich, does it?"

"No," answered Harold, with hesitation.

"You don't feel absolutely obliged to spend more than your allowance, do you?"

"Well, you see, the fellows think I am mean if I don't. There's Ben Clark has an allowance of five dollars a week, and he is three months younger than I am."

"Then I think his parents or guardians are very unwise. How does he spend his liberal allowance?"

"Oh, he has a good time."

"I am afraid it isn't the sort of good time I would approve."

"Luke has more money than I have, and he is only a newsboy," grumbled Harold.

"How do you know?"

"I notice he always has money."

"I doubt whether he spends half a dollar a week on his own amus.e.m.e.nt.

He has a mother and young brother to support."

"He says so!"

"So you doubt it?"

"It may be true."

"If you find it isn't true you can let me know."

"I am sorry that you think so much more of Luke than of me,"

complained Harold.

"How do you know I do?"

"Mother thinks so as well as I."

"Suppose we leave Luke out of consideration. I shall think as much of you as you deserve."

Harold rose from his seat.

"As you have no errand for me, Aunt Eliza, I will go," he said.

Mrs. Merton unlocked a drawer in a work table, took out a pocketbook, and extracted therefrom a ten-dollar-bill.

"You have asked me a favor, and I will grant it--for once," she said.

"Here are ten dollars."

"Thank you," said Harold, joyfully.

"I won't even ask how you propose to spend it. I thought of doing so, but it would imply distrust, and for this occasion I won't show any."

"You are very kind, Aunt Eliza."

"I am glad you think so. You are welcome to the money."

Harold left the room in high spirits. He decided not to let his mother know that he had received so large a sum, as she might inquire to what use he intended to put it; and some of his expenditures, he felt pretty sure, would not be approved by her.

He left the house, and going downtown, joined a couple of friends of his own stamp. They adjourned to a billiard saloon, and between billiards, bets upon the game, and drinks, Harold managed to spend three dollars before suppertime.

Three days later the entire sum given him by his aunt was gone.

When Harold made the discovery, he sighed. His dream was over. It had been pleasant as long as it lasted, but it was over too soon.

"Now I must go back to my mean allowance," he said to himself, in a discontented tone. "Aunt Eliza might give me ten dollars every week just as well as not. She is positively rolling in wealth, while I have to grub along like a newsboy. Why, that fellow Luke has a great deal more money than I."

A little conversation which he had with his Uncle Warner made his discontent more intense.

"h.e.l.lo, Harold, what makes you look so blue?" he asked one day.

"Because I haven't got any money," answered Harold.

"Doesn't your mother or Aunt Eliza give you any?"

"I get a little, but it isn't as much as the other fellows get."

"How much?"

"Two dollars a week."

"It is more than I had when I was of your age."

"That doesn't make it any better."

"Aunt Eliza isn't exactly lavish; still, she pays Luke Walton generously."

"Do you know how much he gets a week?" asked Harold, eagerly.

"Ten dollars."

"Ten dollars!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Harold. "You don't really mean it."

"Yes, I do. I saw her pay him that sum yesterday. I asked her if it wasn't liberal. She admitted it, but said he had a mother and brother to support."

"It's a shame!" cried Harold, pa.s.sionately.

"Why is it? The money is her own, isn't it?"