“Did your father tell you this?” he asked, after a pause.

“Yes; he just told me,” answered Randolph, complacently.

“Why does he think of removing me?  Are there any complaints of the way I perform my duties?”

“Really, my good fellow,” said Randolph, languidly, “I can’t enlighten you on that point.  You’ve held the office a good while, you know.”

“You are very kind to tell me—­this bad news,” said Luke, pointedly.

“Oh, don’t mention it.  Good morning.  Were you fatigued after your violent exercise at Florence Grant’s party?”

“No.  Were you?”

“I didn’t take any,” said Randolph, haughtily.  “I danced—­I didn’t jump round.”

“Thank you for the compliment.  Is there anything more you wish to say to me?”

“No.”

“Then good morning.”

When Luke was left alone he felt serious.  How was he going to make up the dollar a week of which he was to be deprived?  The more he considered the matter the further he was from thinking anything.  He was not quite sure whether the news was reliable, or merely invented by Randolph to tease and annoy him.  Upon this point, however, he was soon made certain.  The next day, as he was attending to his duties in the schoolhouse, Tim Flanagan entered.

“Here’s a note for you, Luke,” he said.

Luke opened the note and found it brief but significant.  It ran thus: 

“Luke Larkin:  I have appointed the bearer, Timothy Flanagan, janitor in your place.  You will give him the key of the schoolhouse, and he will at once assume your duties.

“Prince Duncan.”

“Well, Tim,” said Luke, calmly, “it appears that you are going to take my place.”

“Yes, Luke, but I don’t care much about it.  My mother went to the squire and got me the job.  The pay’s a dollar a week, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“That isn’t enough.”

“It isn’t very much, but there are not many ways of earning money here in Groveton.”

“What do you have to do?”

“Make the fire every morning and sweep out twice a week.  Then there’s dusting, splitting up kindlings, and so on.”

“I don’t think I’ll like it.  I ain’t good at makin’ fires.”

“Squire Duncan writes you are to begin at once.”

“Shure, I’m afraid I won’t succeed.”

“I’ll tell you what, Tim.  I’ll help you along till you’ve got used to the duties.  After a while they’ll get easy for you.”

“Will you now?  You’re a good feller, Luke.  I thought you would be mad at losin’ the job.”

“I am not mad, but I am sorry.  I needed the money, but no doubt you do, also.  I have no grudge against you.”

Luke had just started in his work.  He explained to Tim how to do it, and remained with him till it was done.

“I’ll come again to-morrow, Tim,” he said.  “I will get you well started, for I want to make it easy for you.”