“I don’t think you are right.  He wouldn’t make enough in that way to pay traveling expenses.  He says he has twice come near being robbed.”

Randolph laughed derisively.

“A thief wouldn’t make much robbing him,” he said.  “If he got twenty-five cents he’d be lucky.”

“You forget that he has a nice silver watch?”

Randolph frowned.  This with him was a sore reflection.  Much as he was disposed to look down upon Luke, he was aware that Luke’s watch was better than his, and, though he had importuned his father more than once to buy him a gold watch, he saw no immediate prospect of his wish being granted.

“Oh, well, I’ve talked enough of Luke Larkin,” he said, snappishly.  “He isn’t worth so many words.  I am very much surprised that a gentleman’s son like you, Linton, should demean himself by keeping company with such a boy.”

“There is no boy in the village whom I would rather associate with,” said Linton, with sturdy friendship.

“I don’t admire your taste, then,” said Randolph.  “I don’t believe your father and mother like you to keep such company.”

“There you are mistaken,” said Linton, with spirit.  “They have an excellent opinion of Luke, and if he should ever need a friend, I am sure my father would be willing to help him.”

“Well, I must be going,” said Randolph, by no means pleased with this advocacy of Luke.  “Come round and see me soon.  You never come to our house.”

Linton answered politely, but did not mean to become intimate with Randolph, who was by no means to his taste.  He knew that it was only his social position that won him the invitation, and that if his father should suddenly lose his property, Randolph’s cordiality would be sensibly diminished.  Such friendship, he felt, was not to be valued.

“What are you thinking about?  You seem in a brown study,” said a pleasant voice.

Looking up, Linton recognized his teacher, Mr. Hooper.

“I was thinking of Luke Larkin,” answered Linton.

“By the by, where is Luke?  I have not seen him for some time.”

“He is traveling for Mr. Reed, I believe.”

“The man who committed the tin box to his care?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“No, sir.  I have just received a letter from him, but he says he is not at liberty to mention where he is.”

“Will he be home soon?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“I shall be glad to see him.  He is one of the most promising of my pupils.”

Linton’s expressive face showed the pleasure he felt at this commendation of his friend.  He felt more gratified than if Mr. Hooper had directly praised him.

“Luke can stand Randolph’s depreciation,” he reflected, “with such a friend as Mr. Hooper.”

Linton was destined to meet plenty of acquaintances.  Scarcely had he parted from Mr. Hooper, when Tony Denton met him.  The keeper of the billiard-room was always on the alert to ingratiate himself with the young people of the village, looking upon them as possible patrons of his rooms.  He would have been glad to draw in Linton, on account of his father’s prominent position in the village.