“Your breakfast will be ready on time,” said the widow, “and Luke will call you.”

CHAPTER XVI

LUKE’S VISIT TO NEW YORK

The morning train to New York carried among its passengers Luke and his new friend.  The distance was thirty-five miles, and the time occupied was a trifle over an hour.  The two sat together, and Luke had an opportunity of observing his companion more closely.  He was a man of middle age, dark complexion, with keen black eyes, and the expression of one who understood the world and was well fitted to make his way in it.  He had already given the Larkins to understand that he had been successful in accumulating money.

As for Luke, he felt happy and contented.  The tide of fortune seemed to have turned in his favor, or rather in favor of his family.  The handsome weekly sum which would be received for the board of Mr. Reed’s little daughter would be sufficient of itself to defray the modest expenses of their household.  If he, too, could obtain work, they would actually feel rich.

“Luke,” said his companion, “does your mother own the cottage where you live?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Free of incumbrance?”

“Not quite.  There is a mortgage of three hundred dollars held by Squire Duncan.  It was held by Deacon Tibbetts, but about three months since Squire Duncan bought it.”

“What could be his object in buying it?”

“I don’t know, sir.  Perhaps the deacon owed him money.”

“I am surprised, then, that he deprived you of your position as janitor, since it would naturally make it more difficult for you to meet the interest.”

“That is true, sir.  I wondered at it myself.”

“Your house is a small one, but the location is fine.  It would make a building lot suitable for a gentleman’s summer residence.”

“Yes, sir; there was a gentleman in the village last summer who called upon mother and tried to induce her to sell.”

“Did he offer her a fair price?”

“No, sir; he said he should have to take down the cottage, and he only offered eight hundred dollars.  Mother would have sold for a thousand.”

“Tell her not to accept even that offer, but to hold on to the property.  Some day she can obtain considerably more.”

“She won’t sell unless she is obliged to,” replied Luke.  “A few days since I thought we might have to do it.  Now, with the generous sum which you allow for your little girl’s board there will be no necessity.”

“Has Squire Duncan broached the subject to your mother?”

“He mentioned it one day, but he wanted her to sell for seven hundred dollars.”

“He is evidently sharp at a bargain.”

“Yes, sir; he is not considered liberal.”

There was one thing that troubled Luke in spite of the pleasure he anticipated from his visit to New York.  He knew very well that his clothes were shabby, and he shrank from the idea of appearing on Broadway in a patched suit too small for him.  But he had never breathed a word of complaint to his mother, knowing that she could not afford to buy him another suit, and he did not wish to add to her troubles.  It might have happened that occasionally he fixed a troubled look on his clothes, but if Roland Reed noticed it he did not make any comment.