The week passed and Luke carefully avoided our hero going so far as to
cross the street so as not to meet him. On Saturday evening, according
to his arrangement, Luke was to have paid the surplus of his wages,
after meeting his board bill, to Mr. Merrill, for Harry.
But he did not go near him. On Monday, the tailor meeting him, inquired
why he had not kept his agreement.
"The fact is," said Luke, "I have been unlucky."
"How unlucky?"
"I had my wages loose in my pocket, and managed to lose them somehow."
"That is very singular," said the tailor, suspiciously.
"Why is it singular?" asked Luke. "Didn't Harry Walton lose his money?"
"You seem to have lost yours at a very convenient time."
"It's hard on me," said Luke. "Owing so much, I want to pay as quick as
I can, so as to have my wages to myself. Don't you see that?"
"Where do you think you lost the money?"
"I'm sure I don't know," said Luke.
"Well," said Merrill, dryly, "I hope you will take better care of your
wages next Saturday evening."
"I mean to. I can't afford to lose anymore."
"I don't believe, a word of what he says about losing his money," said
the tailor, privately, to Harry. "I think it's only a trick to get rid
of paying you."
"Don't you think he'll pay me?" asked Harry.
"He won't if he can help it," was the answer. "He's a slippery customer.
I believe his money is in his pocket at this moment."
Mr. Merrill was not quite right; but it was only as to the whereabouts
of the money. It was in Luke's trunk. He intended to run away, leaving
all his creditors in the lurch. This was the "new way to pay old debts,"
which occurred to Luke as much the easiest.
The next Saturday evening, Mr. Merrill waited in vain for a call from
his debtor.
"What excuse will he have now?" he thought.
On Monday morning he learned that Luke had left town without acquainting
anyone with his destination. It transpired, also, that he was owing at
his boarding house for two weeks' board. He was thus enabled to depart
with nearly thirty dollars, for parts unknown.
"He's a hard case," said Mr. Merrill to Harry. "I am afraid he means to
owe us for a long time to come."
"Where do you think he is gone?" asked Harry.
"I have no idea. He has evidently been saving up money to help him out
of town. Sometime we may get upon his track, and compel him to pay up."
"That won't do me much good," said Harry, despondently. And then he told
the tailor why he wanted the money. "Now," he concluded, "I shan't be
able to have the money ready in time."
"You'll have most of it ready, won't you?"
"I think I will."
"I would lend you the money myself," said the tailor, "but I've got a
heavy payment to meet and some of my customers are slow pay, though I
have not many as bad as Luke Harrison."
"Thank you, Mr. Merrill," said Harry. "I am as much obliged to you as if
you could lend the money."
But it is said that misfortunes never come singly. The very next day Mr.
Leavitt received a message from the wholesale dealer to whom he sold his
shoes, that the market was glutted and sales slow.
"I shall not want any more goods for a month or two," the letter
concluded. "I will let you know, when I more."
Mr. Leavitt read this letter aloud in the shop.
"So it seems we are to have a vacation," he said. "That's the worst of
the shoe trade. It isn't steady. When it's good everybody rushes into
it, and the market soon gets overstocked. Then there's no work for
weeks."
This was a catastrophe for which Harry was no prepared. He heard the
announcement with a grave face, for to him it was a serious calamity.
Twenty-three dollars were all that he had saved from the money lost and
this would be increased by a dollar or two only, when he had settled up
with Mr. Leavitt. If he stayed here did not obtain work, he must pay his
board, and that would soon swallow up his money. Could he get work in
any other shop? That was an important question.
"Do you think I can get into any other shop in town?" he inquired
anxiously of Mr. Leavitt.
"You can try, Harry; but I guess you'll find others no better off than
I."
This was not very encouraging, but Harry determined not to give up
without an effort. He devoted the next day to going around among the
shoe shops; but everywhere he met with unfavorable answers. Some had
ready suspended. Others were about to do so.
"It seems as if all my money must go," thought Harry, looking
despondently at his little hoard. "First the ten dollars Luke Harrison
stole. Then work stopped. I don't know but it would be better for me to
go home."
But the more Harry thought of this, the less he liked it. It would be an
inglorious ending to his campaign. Probably now he would not be able to
carry out his plan of paying for the cow; but if his father should
lose it, he might be able, if he found work, to buy him another Squire
Green's cow was not the only cow in the world and all would not be lost
if he could not buy her.
"I won't give up yet," said Harry, pluckily. "I must expect to meet with
some bad luck. I suppose everybody does. Something'll turn up for me if
I try to make it."
This was good philosophy. Waiting passively for something to turn up is
bad policy and likely to lead to disappointment; but waiting actively,
ready to seize any chance that may offer, is quite different. The world
is full of chances, and from such chances so seized has been based many
a prosperous career.
During his first idle day, Harry's attention was drawn to a handbill
which had been posted up in the store, the post office, the tavern, and
other public places in the village. It was to this effect:
"PROFESSOR HENDERSON,
"The celebrated Magician,
"Will exhibit his wonderful feats of Magic and Sleight of Hand in the
Town Hall this evening, commencing at 8 o'clock. In the course of the
entertainment he will amuse the audience by his wonderful exhibition of
Ventriloquism, in which he is unsurpassed.
"Tickets 25 cents. Children under twelve, 15 cents."
In a country village, where amusements are few, such entertainments
occupy a far more important place than in a city, where amusements
abound.
"Are you going to the exhibition, Walton?" asked Frank Heath.
"I don't know," said Harry.
"Better come. It'll be worth seeing."
In spite of his economy, our hero wanted to go.
"The professor's stopping at the tavern. Come over, and we may see him,"
said Frank.