It was at this critical juncture that Luke Walton appeared on the scene.

 

He had no reason to like Tom, but he instantly prepared to rescue him. Fortunately, he knew Ah King, whom he had more than once protected from the annoyance of the hoodlums of the neighborhood.

 

Luke ran up and seized the Chinaman by the arm.

 

"What are you going to do?" he demanded, sternly.

 

"Fool boy bleak my window," said Ah King. "I bleak his head."

 

"No, you mustn't do that. The police will arrest you."

 

"Go way! Me killee white boy," cried Ah King, impatiently trying to shake off Luke's grasp. "He bleak window--cost me a dollee."

 

"I'll see that he pays it, or is arrested," said Luke.

 

Unwillingly Ah King suffered himself to be persuaded, more readily, perhaps, that Tom was now at a safe distance.

 

"You plomise me?" said Ah King.

 

"Yes; if he don't pay, I will. Go and get the window mended."

 

Luke easily overtook Tom, who was looking round the corner to see how matters were going.

 

"Has he gone back?" asked Tom, rather anxiously.

 

"Yes, but if I hadn't come along, he would, perhaps, have killed you."

 

"You only say that to scare me," said Tom, uneasily.

 

"No, I don't; I mean it. Do you know how I got you off?"

 

"How?"

 

"I told Ah King you would pay for the broken window. It will cost a dollar."

 

"I didn't promise," said Tom, significantly.

 

"No," said Luke, sternly, "but if you don't do it, I will myself have you arrested. I saw you throw the stone at the window."

 

"What concern is it of yours?" asked Tom, angrily. "Why do you meddle with my business?"

 

"If I hadn't meddled with your business, you might have a fractured skull by this time. It is a contemptibly mean thing to annoy a poor Chinaman."

 

"He's only a heathen."

 

"A well-behaved heathen is better than a Christian such as you are."

 

"I don't want any lectures," said Tom in a sulky tone.

 

"I presume not. I have nothing more to say except that I expect you to hand me that dollar to-night."

 

"I haven't got a dollar."

 

"Then you had better get one. I don't believe you got a dollar's worth of sport in breaking the window, and I advise you hereafter to spend your money better."

 

"I don't believe I will pay it," said Tom, eying Luke closely, to see if he were in earnest.

 

"Then I will report your case to the police."

 

"You're a mean fellow," said Tom, angrily.

 

"I begin to be sorry I interfered to save you. How ever, take your choice. If necessary, I will pay the dollar myself, for I have promised Ah King; but I shall keep my word about having you arrested."

 

It was a bitter pill for Tom to swallow, but he managed to raise the money, and handed it to Luke that evening. Instead of being grateful to the one who had possibly saved his life, he was only the more incensed against him, and longed for an opportunity to do him an injury.

 

"I hate that Luke Walton," he said to one of his intimate friends. "He wants to boss me, and all of us, but he can't do it. He's only fit to keep company with a heathen Chinee."

 

Luke spent a couple of hours in selling papers. He had not forgotten his engagement with Mrs. Merton, and punctually at ten o'clock he pulled the bell of the house in Prairie Avenue.

 

Just at that moment the door was opened, and he faced a boy of his own age, a thin, dark-complexioned youth, of haughty bearing. This, no doubt, he concluded, was Harold Tracy.

 

"What do you want?" he asked, superciliously.

 

"I should like to see Mrs. Merton."

 

"Humph! What business have you with Mrs. Merton?"

 

Luke was not favorably impressed with Harold's manner, and did not propose to treat him with the consideration which he evidently thought his due.

 

"I come here at Mrs. Mert............