Luke Walton

"I should prefer to have you name a figure, so that I might know what to depend upon."

But this Mrs. Tracy declined to do, though her brother continued to urge her.

"Where have you been for a few years past, Warner?" she asked.

"Floating about. At first I didn't dare to come back. It was a year at least before I heard that aunt had paid up the sum I got away with. When I did hear it I was in Australia."

"What did you do there?"

"I was a bookkeeper in Melbourne for a time. Then I went into the country. From Australia I came to California, and went to the mines. In fact, I have only just come from there."

"Didn't you manage to make money anywhere?"

"Yes, but it didn't stick by me. How much money do you think I have about me now?"

"I can't guess," said Mrs. Tracy, uneasily.

"Five dollars and a few cents. However, I am sure you will help me," he continued.

"Really, Warner, you mustn't hope for too much from me. I have but a small allowance from Aunt Eliza – hardly enough to buy necessary articles for Harold and myself."

"Then you can speak to aunt in my behalf."

"Yes, I can do that."

"Where is she?"

"She has gone out shopping this morning."

"Alone, or is Harold with her?"

"Neither," answered Mrs. Tracy, her brow darkening. "She has picked up a boy from the street, and installed him as a first favorite."

"That's queer, isn't it?"

"Yes; but Aunt Eliza was always queer."

"What's the boy's name?"

"Luke Walton."

"What's his character?"

"Sly – artful. He is scheming to have aunt leave him Something in her will."

"If she leaves him a few hundred dollars it won't hurt us much."

"You don't know the boy. He won't be satisfied with that."

"You don't mean to say that his influence over aunt is dangerous?"

"Yes, I do."

"Can't you get her to bounce him?"

"I have done what I could, but she seems to be infatuated. If he were a gentleman's son I shouldn't mind so much, but Harold saw him the other day selling papers near the Sherman House."

"Do you think aunt's mind is failing?"

"She seems rational enough on all other subjects. She was always shrewd and sharp, you know."

"Well, that's rather an interesting state of things. I haven't returned to Chicago any too soon."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because it will be my duty to spoil the chances of this presuming young man."

"That is easier said than done. You forget that Aunt Eliza thinks a great deal more of him than she does of you."

"I haven't a doubt that you are right."

"Then what can you do?"

"Convince her that he is a scapegrace. Get him into a scrape, in other words."

"But he is too smart to be dishonest, if that is what you mean."

"It is not necessary for him to be dishonest. It is only necessary for her to think he is dishonest."

There was some further conversation. As Warner Powell was leaving the house, after promising to call in the evening, he met on the steps Mrs. Merton, under the escort of Luke Walton.

The old lady eyed him sharply.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE PRODIGAL'S RECEPTION

"Don't you know me, Aunt Eliza?" asked Warner Powell casting down his eyes under the sharp glance of the old lady.

"So it is you, is it?" responded Mrs. Merton, in a tone which could not be considered cordial.

"Yes, it is I. I hope you are not sorry to see me?"

"Humph! It depends on whether you have improved or not."

Luke Walton listened with natural interest and curiosity. This did not suit Mrs. Tracy, who did not care to have a stranger made acquainted with her brother's peccadilloes.

"Warner," she said, "I think Aunt Eliza will do you the justice to listen to your explanation. I imagine, young man, Mrs. Merton will not require your services any longer to-day."