“Will you do me a favor?”

“What is it, sir?”

“Take this tin box and carry it to your home.  Keep it under lock and key till I call for it.”

“Yes, sir, I can do that.  But how shall I know you again?”

“Take a good look at me, that you may remember me.”

“I think I shall know you again, but hadn’t you better give me a name?”

“Well, perhaps so,” answered the other, after a moment’s thought.  “You may call me Roland Reed.  Will you remember?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I am obliged to leave this neighborhood at once, and can’t conveniently carry the box,” explained the stranger.  “Here’s something for your trouble.”

Luke was about to say that he required no money, when it occurred to him that he had no right to refuse, since money was so scarce at home.  He took the tin box and thrust the bank-bill into his vest pocket.  He wondered how much it was, but it was too dark to distinguish.

“Good night!” said Luke, as the stranger turned away.

“Good night!” answered his new acquaintance, abruptly.

If Luke could have foreseen the immediate consequences of this apparently simple act, and the position in which it would soon place him, he would certainly have refused to take charge of the box.  And yet in so doing it might have happened that he had made a mistake.  The consequences of even our simple acts are oftentimes far-reaching and beyond the power of human wisdom to foreknow.

Luke thought little of this as, with the box under his arm, he trudged homeward.

CHAPTER V

LUKE RECEIVES AN INVITATION

“What have you there, Luke?” asked Mrs. Larkin, as Luke entered the little sitting-room with the tin box under his arm.

“I met a man on my way home, who asked me to keep it for him.”

“Do you know the man?” asked his mother, in surprise.

“No,” answered Luke.

“It seems very singular.  What did he say?”

“He said that he was obliged to leave the neighborhood at once, and could not conveniently carry the box.”

“Do you think it contains anything of value?”

“Yes, mother.  It is like the boxes rich men have to hold their stocks and bonds.  I was at the bank one day, and saw a gentleman bring in one to deposit in the safe.”

“I can’t understand that at all, Luke.  You say you did not know this man?”

“I never met him before.”

“And, of course, he does not know you?”

“No, for he asked my name.”

“Yet he put what may be valuable property in your possession.”

“I think,” said Luke, shrewdly, “he had no one else to trust it to.  Besides, a country boy wouldn’t be very likely to make use of stocks and bonds.”

“No, that is true.  I suppose the tin box is locked?”

“Yes, mother.  The owner—­he says his name is Roland Reed—­wishes it put under lock and key.”