“You need be under no anxiety about Luke and his prospects,” he said to Mrs. Larkin.  “I shall make over to him ten thousand dollars at once, constituting myself his guardian, and will see that he is well started in business.  My friend Mr. Armstrong proposes to take him into his office, if you do not object, at a liberal salary.”

“I shall miss him very much,” said Mrs. Larkin, “though I am thankful that he is to be so well provided for.”

“He can come home every Saturday night, and stay until Monday morning,” said Mr. Reed, who, by the way, chose to retain his name in place of his old one.  “Will that satisfy you?”

“It ought to, surely, and I am grateful to Providence for all the blessings which it has showered upon me and mine.”

There was another change.  Mr. Reed built a neat and commodious house in the pleasantest part of the village and there Mrs. Larkin removed with his little daughter, of whom she still had the charge.  No one rejoiced more sincerely at Luke’s good fortune than Linton, who throughout had been a true and faithful friend.  He is at present visiting Europe with his mother, and has written an earnest letter, asking Luke to join him.  But Luke feels that he cannot leave a good business position, and must postpone the pleasure of traveling till he is older.

Mr. J. Madison Coleman, the enterprising drummer, has got into trouble, and is at present an inmate of the State penitentiary at Joliet, Illinois.  It is fortunate for the traveling public, so many of whom he has swindled, that he is for a time placed where he can do no more mischief.

So closes an eventful passage in the life of Luke Larkin.  He has struggled upward from a boyhood of privation and self-denial into a youth and manhood of prosperity and honor.  There has been some luck about it, I admit, but after all he is indebted for most of his good fortune to his own good qualities.