“Thank you,” answered Luke, “but I never drink.”

“Oh, I forgot; you’re a good boy,” said Coleman.  “Well, I’m no Puritan.  Whisky straight for me.”

Luke was not in the least troubled by the sneer conveyed in Coleman’s words.  He was not altogether entitled to credit for refusing to drink, having not the slightest taste for strong drink of any kind.

About half-past seven Coleman put up his cue, saying:  “That’ll do for me.  Now, Luke, suppose we take a walk.”

Luke was quite ready, not having seen anything of Chicago as yet.  They strolled out, and walked for an hour.  Coleman, to do him justice, proved an excellent guide, and pointed out whatever they passed which was likely to interest his young companion.  But at last he seemed to be tired.

“It’s only half-past eight,” he said, referring to his watch.  “I’ll drop into some theater.  It is the best way to finish up the evening.”

“Then I’ll go back to the hotel,” said Luke.  “I feel tired, and mean to go to bed early.”

“You’d better spend an hour or two in the theater with me.”

“No, I believe not.  I prefer a good night’s rest.”

“Do you mind my leaving you?”

“Not at all.”

“Can you find your way back to the hotel alone?”

“If you’ll direct me, I think I can find it.”

The direction was given, and Coleman was turning off, when, as if it had just occurred to him, he said:  “By the way, can you lend me a five?  I’ve nothing less than a fifty-dollar bill with me, and I don’t want to break that.”

Luke congratulated himself now that he had left the greater part of his money at the hotel.

“I can let you have a dollar,” he said.

Coleman shrugged his shoulders, but answered:  “All right; let me have the one.”

Luke did so, and felt now that he had more than repaid the fifty cents his companion had paid for hack fare.  Though Coleman had professed to have nothing less than fifty, Luke knew that he had changed a five-dollar bill at the hotel in paying for the drinks, and must have over four dollars with him in small bills and change.

“Why, then,” thought he, “did Coleman want to borrow five dollars of me?”

If Luke had known more of the world he would have understood that it was only one of the tricks to which men like Coleman resort to obtain a loan, or rather a gift, from an unsuspecting acquaintance.

“I suppose I shall not see my money back,” thought Luke.  “Well, it will be the last that he will get out of me.”

He was already becoming tired of his companion, and doubted whether he would not find the acquaintance an expensive one.  He was sorry that they were to share the same room.  However, it was for one night only, and to-morrow he was quite resolved to part company.

Shortly after nine o’clock Luke went to bed, and being fatigued with his long journey, was soon asleep.  He was still sleeping at twelve o’clock, when Coleman came home.