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Luke Walton
Luke Walton
CHAPTER I
A CHICAGO NEWSBOY
"News and Mail, one cent each!"
Half a dozen Chicago newsboys, varying in age from ten to sixteen years, with piles of papers in their hands, joined in the chorus.
They were standing in front and at the sides of the Sherman House, on the corner of Clark and Randolph Streets, one of the noted buildings in the Lake City. On the opposite side of Randolph Street stands a gloomy stone structure, the Court House and City Hall. In the shadow of these buildings, at the corner, Luke Walton, one of the largest newsboys, had posted himself. There was something about his bearing and appearance which distinguished him in a noticeable way from his companions.
To begin with, he looked out of place. He was well grown, with a frank, handsome face, and was better dressed than the average newsboy. That was one reason, perhaps, why he preferred to be by himself, rather than to engage in the scramble for customers which was the habit of the boys around him.
It was half-past five. The numerous cars that passed were full of business men, clerks, and boys, returning to their homes after a busy day.
Luke had but two papers left, but these two for some unaccountable reason remained on his hands an unusual length of time. But at length a comfortable-looking gentleman of middle age, coming from the direction of La Salle Street, paused and said, "You may give me a News, my boy."
"Here you are, sir," he said, briskly.
The gentleman took the paper, and thrusting his hand into his pocket, began to feel for a penny, but apparently without success.
"I declare," he said, smiling, "I believe I am penniless. I have nothing but a five-dollar bill."
"Never mind, sir! Take the paper and pay me to morrow."