"will you have a morning paper?" asked luke.

he wanted to have a few words with mr. browning, even upon an indifferent subject, as he now thought it probable that this was the man who had defrauded his mother and himself.

browning, too, on his part, wished for an opportunity to speak with the son of the man he had so shamefully swindled.

"yes," he said, abruptly, "you may give me the _times._"

when the paper had been paid for, he said:

"do you make a good living at selling papers?"

"it gives me about seventy-five cents a day," answered luke.

"you can live on that, i suppose?"

"i have a mother to support."

"that makes a difference. why do you stay in chicago? you could make a better living farther west."

"in california?" asked luke, looking intently at browning.

thomas browning started.

"what put california into your head?" he asked.

"my father died in california."

"a good reason for your not going there."

"i thought you might be able to tell me something about california," continued luke.

"why should i?"

"i thought perhaps you had been there."

"you are right," said browning, after a pause. "i made a brief trip to san francisco at one time. it was on a slight matter of business. but i don't know much about the interior and can't give you advice."

"i wonder if this is true," thought luke. "he admits having been to california, but says he has never been in the interior. if that is the case, he can't have met my father."

"i may at some time have it in my power to find you a place farther west, but not in california," resumed browning. "i will take it into consideration. i frequently come to chicago, and i presume you are to be found here."

"yes, sir."

thomas browning waved his hand by way of good-by, and continued on his way.

"the boy seems sharp," he said to himself. "if he had the slightest hint of my connection with his father's money, he looks as if he would follow it up. luckily there is no witness and no evidence. no one can prove that i received the money."

at the corner of adams street mr. browning encountered his nephew, stephen webb, who was gazing in at a window with a cigar in his mouth, looking the very image of independent leisure.

"you are profitably employed," said browning, dryly.

stephen webb wheeled round quickly.

"glad to see you, uncle thomas," he said, effusively. "i suppose you received my letter?"

"yes."

"i hope you are satisfied. i had hard work to find out about the boy."

"humph! i don't see how there could be anything difficult about it. i hope you didn't mention my name?"

"no. i suppose you are interested in the boy," said stephen, with a look of curious inquiry.

"yes; i always feel interested in the poor, and those who require assistance."

"i am glad of that, uncle, for you have a poor nephew."

"and a lazy one," said browning, sharply. "where would i be if i had been as indolent as you?"

"i am sure i am willing to do whatever you require, uncle thomas. have you any instructions?"

"well, not just now, except to let me know all you can learn about the newsboy. has he any other source of income except selling papers?"

"i believe he does a few odd jobs now and then, but i don't suppose he earns much outside."

"i was talking with him this morning."

"you were!" ejaculated stephen in a tone of curiosity. "did you tell him you felt an interest in him?"

"no, and i don't want you to tell him so. i suggested that he could make a better income by leaving chicago, and going farther west."

"i think i might like to do that, uncle thomas."

"then why don't you?"

"i can't go without money."

"you could take up a quarter-section of land and start in as a farmer. i could give you a lift that way if i thought you were in earnest."

"i don't think i should succeed as a farmer," said stephen, with a grimace.

"too hard work, eh?"

"i am willing to work hard, but that isn't in my line."

"well, let that go. you asked if i had any instructions. find opportunities of talking with the boy, and speak in favor of going west."

"i will. is there anything more?"

"no. i believe not."

"you couldn't let me have a couple of dollars extra, could you, uncle?"

"why should i?"

"i--i felt sick last week, and had to call in a doctor, and then get some medicine."

"there's one dollar! don't ask me for any more extras."

"he's awfully close-fisted," grumbled stephen.

"i am afraid king might visit chicago, and find out the boy," said browning to himself as he continued his walk. "that would never do, for he is a sharp fellow, and would put the boy on my track if he saw any money in it. my best course is to get this luke out of chicago, if i can."

stephen webb made it in his way to fall in with luke when he was selling afternoon papers.

"this is rather a slow way of making a fortune, isn't it, luke?" he asked.

"yes; i have no thoughts of making a fortune at the newspaper business."

"do you always expect to remain in it?" continued webb.

"well, no," answered luke, with a smile. "if i live to be fifty or sixty i think i should find it rather tiresome."

"you are right there."

"but i don't see any way of getting out of it just yet. there may be an opening for me by and by."

"the chances for a young fellow in chicago are not very good. here am i twenty-five years old and with no prospects to speak of."

"a good many people seem to make good livings, and many grow rich, in chicago."

"yes, if you've got money you can make money. did you ever think of going west?"

luke looked a little surprised.

"a gentleman was speaking to me on that subject this morning," he said.

"what did he say to you?" asked stephen, curiously.

"he recommended me to go west, but did not seem to approve of california."

"why not. had he ever been there?"

"he said he had visited san francisco, but had never been in the interior."

"what a whopper that was!" thought stephen webb. "why should uncle thomas say that?"

"what sort of a looking man was he? had you ever seen him before?" he inquired.

"he is a peculiar-looking man--has a wart on his right cheek."

"did he mention the particular part of the west?"

"no; he said he would look out for a chance for me."

"it is curious uncle thomas feels such an interest in that boy," webb said to himself, meditatively.