STEPHEN WEBB OBTAINS SOME INFORMATION
Luke was at his post the following morning, and had disposed of half
his papers when Stephen Webb strolled by. He walked past Luke, and
then, as if it was an after thought, turned back, and addressed him.
"Have you a morning _Tribune?_" he asked.
Luke produced it.
"How's business to-day?" asked Stephen in an offhand manner.
"Pretty fair," answered Luke, for the first time taking notice of the
inquirer, who did not impress him very favorably.
"I have often wondered how you newsboys make it pay," said Stephen, in
a sociable tone.
"We don't make our fortunes, as a rule," answered Luke, smiling, "so I
can't recommend you to go into it."
"I don't think it would suit me. I don't mind owning up that I am
lazy. But, then, I am not obliged to work for the present, at least."
"I should like to be able to live without work," said the newsboy.
"But even then I would find something to do. I should not be happy if
I were idle."
"I am not wholly without work," said Stephen. "My uncle, who lives at
a distance, occasionally sends to me to do something for him. I have
to hold myself subject to his orders. In the meantime I get an income
from him. How long have you been a newsboy?"
"Nearly two years."
"Do you like it? Why don't you get a place in a store or an office?"
"I should like to, if I could make enough; but boys get very small
salaries."
"I was about to offer to look for a place for you. I know some men in
business."
"Thank you! You are very kind, considering that we are strangers."
"Oh, well, I can judge of you by your looks. I shouldn't be afraid to
recommend you."
"Thank you!" he replied; "but unless you can offer me as much as five
dollars a week, I should feel obliged to keep on selling papers. I not
only have myself to look out for, but a mother and little brother."
Stephen nodded to himself complacently. It was the very information of
which he was in search.
"Then your father isn't living?" he said.
"No. He died in California."
"Uncle Thomas made his money in California," Stephen said to himself.
"I wonder if he knew this newsboy's father."
"Five dollars is little enough for three persons to live upon," he
went on, in a sympathetic manner.
"Mother earns something by sewing," Luke answered, unsuspiciously;
"but it takes all we can make to support us."
"Then they can't have any other resources," thought Stephen. "I am
getting on famously."
"Well, good-morning, Luke!" he said. "I'll see you later."
"How do you know my name?" asked Luke, in surprise.
"I'm an idiot!" thought Stephen. "I ought to have appeared ignorant of
his name. I have seen you before to-day," he replied, taking a little
time to think. "I heard one of the other newsboys calling you by name.
I don't pretend to be a magician."
This explanation satisfied Luke. It appeared very natural.
"I have a great memory for names," proceeded Stephen. "That reminds me
that I have not told you mine--I am Stephen Webb, at your service."
"I will remember it."
"Have a cigarette, Luke?" added Stephen, producing a packet from his
pocket."
"Thank you; I don't smoke."
"Don't smoke, and you a newsboy! I thought all of you smoked."
"Most of us do, but I promised my mother I wouldn't smoke till I was
twenty-one."
"Then I'm old enough to smoke. I've smoked ever since I was twelve
years old--well, good morning!"
"That'll do for one day," thought Stephen Webb.
It was three days before Stephen Webb called again on his new
acquaintance. He did not wish Luke to suspect anything, he said to
himself. Really, however, he found other things to take up his
attention. At the rate his money was going it seemed very doubtful
whether he would be able to give his mother any part of his salary, as
suggested by his uncle.
"Hang it all!" he said to himself, as he noted his rapidly diminishing
hoard. "Why can't my uncle open his heart and give me more than ten
dollars a week? Fifteen dollars wouldn't be any too much, and to him
it would be nothing--positively nothing."
On the second evening Luke went home late. It had been a poor day for
him, and his receipts were less than usual, though he had been out
more hours.
When he entered the house, however, he assumed a cheerful look, for he
never wished to depress his mother's spirits.
"You are late, Luke," said Mrs. Walton; "but I have kept your supper
warm."
"What makes you so late, Luke?" asked Bennie.
"The papers went slow, Bennie. They will, sometimes. There's no very
important news just now. I suppose that explains it."
After a while Luke thought he noticed that his mother looked more
serious than usual.
"What's the matter, mother?" he asked. "Have you a headache?"
"No, Luke. I am perfectly well, but I am feeling a little anxious."
"About what, mother?"
"I went around this afternoon to take half a dozen shirts that I had
completed, and asked for more. They told me they had no more for me at
present, and they didn't know when I could have any more."
This was bad news, for Luke knew that he alone did not earn enough to
support the family. However, he answered cheerfully: "Don't be
anxious, mother! There are plenty of other establishments in Chicago
besides the one you have been working for."
"That is true, Luke; but I don't know whether that will help me. I
stopped at two places after leaving Gusset & Co.'s, and was told that
their list was full."
"Well, mother, don't let us think of it to-night! To morrow we can try
again."
Luke's cheerfulness had its effect on his mother, and the evening was
passed socially.
The next morning Luke went out to work at the usual time. He had all
his papers sold out by half-past ten o'clock, and walked over to State
Street, partly to fill up the time, arid partly in search of some
stray job. He was standing in front of the Bee Hive, a well-known
drygoods store on State Street, when his attention was called to an
old lady, who, in attempting to cross the street, had imprudently
placed herself just in the track of a rapidly advancing cable car.
Becoming sensible of her danger, the old lady uttered a terrified cry,
but was too panic-stricken to move.
On came the car, with gong sounding out its alarm, and a cry of horror
went up from the bystanders.
Luke alone seemed to have his wits about him.
He saw that there was not a moment to lose, and, gathering up his
strength, dashed to the old lady's assistance.