"Are you quite sure of this, Melinda?"
Miss Sprague, though over forty, was generally called by her first name, not as a tribute to her youth, but to the fact of her being still unmarried.
"Yes, I am; I had it from Mrs. Flanagan herself."
"I don't think Tim would do as well as Luke. He has never been able to keep a place yet."
"Just so; but, of course, his mother thinks him a polygon." Probably Miss Sprague meant a paragon—she was not very careful in her speech, but Mrs. Larkin did not smile at her mistake. She was too much troubled at the news she had just heard. A dollar a week may seem a ridiculous trifle to some of my readers, but, where the entire income of the family was so small, it was a matter of some consequence.
"I don't think Luke has heard anything of this," said the widow. "He has not mentioned it to me."
"Perhaps there won't be any change, after all," said Melinda. "I am sure Tim Flanagan wouldn't do near as well as Luke."
Miss Melinda was not entirely sincere. She had said to Mrs. Flanagan that she quite agreed with her that Luke had been janitor long enough, and hoped Tim would get the place. She was in the habit of siding with the person she chanced to be talking with at the moment, and this was pretty well understood.
Luke, however, had heard of this threatened removal. For this, it may be said, Randolph was partly responsible. Just after Mrs. Flanagan's call upon the squire to solicit his official influence, Prince Duncan mentioned the matter to his son.
"How long has Luke Larkin been janitor at the schoolhouse?" he asked.
"About a year. Why do you ask?"
"Does he attend to the duties pretty well?"
"I suppose so. He's just fit to make fires and sweep the floor," answered Randolph, his lip curling.
"Mrs. Flanagan has been here to ask me to appoint her son Tim in Luke's place."
"You'd better do it, pa," said Randolph, quickly.
"Why? You say Luke is well fitted for the position."
"Oh, anybody could do as well, but Luke puts on airs. He feels too big for his position."
"I suppose Mrs. Larkin needs the money."
"So does Mrs. Flanagan," said Randolph.
"What sort of a boy is Tim? I have heard that he is lazy."
"Oh, I guess he'll do. Of course, I am not well acquainted with a boy like him," said the young aristocrat. "But I'm quite disgusted with Luke. He was at Florence Grant's party the other evening, and was cheeky enough to ask her to dance with him."
"Did she do so?"
"Yes; I suppose it was out of pity. He ought to have known better than to attend a party with such a suit. His coat and pantaloons were both too small for him, but he flourished around as if he were fashionably dressed."
Squire Duncan made no reply to his son's comments, but he felt disposed, for reasons of his own, to appoint Tim Flanagan. He was hoping to be nominated for representative at the next election, and thought the appointment might influence the Irish vote in his favor.
"Shall you appoint Tim, pa?" asked Randolph.
"I think it probable. It seems only right to give him a chance.
Rotation in office is a principle of which I approve."
"That's good!" thought Randolph, with a smile of gratification. "It isn't a very important place, but Luke will be sorry to lose it. The first time I see him I will give him a hint of it."
Randolph met Luke about an hour later in the village street. He did not often stop to speak with our hero, but this time he had an object in doing so.
CHAPTER IX
LUKE LOSES HIS POSITION
"Luke Larkin!"
Luke turned, on hearing his name called, and was rather surprised to see Randolph hastening toward him.
"How are you, Randolph?" he said politely.
"Where are you going?" asked Randolph, not heeding the inquiry.
"To the schoolhouse, to sweep out."
"How long have you been janitor?" asked Randolph, abruptly.
"About a year," Luke answered, in surprise.
"That's a good while."
Luke was puzzled. Why should Randolph feel such an interest, all at once, in his humble office?
"I suppose you know that my father is now on the school committee?"
Randolph continued.
"Yes; I heard so."
"He thinks of appointing Tim Flanagan janitor in your place."
Luke's face showed his surprise and concern. The loss of his modest income would, as he knew, be severely felt by his mother and himself. The worst of it was, there seemed no chance in Groveton of making it up in any other way.
"Did your father tell you this?" he asked, after a pause.
"Yes; he just told me," answered Randolph, complacently.
"Why does he think of removing me? Are there any complaints of the way I perform my duties?"
"Really, my good fellow," said Randolph, languidly, "I can't enlighten you on that point. You've held the office a good while, you know."
"You are very kind to tell me—this bad news," said Luke, pointedly.
"Oh, don't mention it. Good morning. Were you fatigued after your violent exercise at Florence Grant's party?"
"No. Were you?"
"I didn't take any," said Randolph, haughtily. "I danced—I didn't jump round."
"Thank you for the compliment. Is there anything more you wish to say to me?"
"No."
"Then good morning."
When Luke was left alone he felt serious. How was he going to make up the dollar a week of which he was to be deprived? The more he considered the matter the further he was from thinking anything. He was not quite sure whether the news was reliable, or merely invented by Randolph to tease and annoy him. Upon this point, however, he was soon made certain. The next day, as he was attending to his duties in the schoolhouse, Tim Flanagan entered.
"Here's a note for you, Luke," he said.
Luke opened the note and found it brief but significant. It ran thus:
"LUKE LARKIN: I have appointed the bearer, Timothy Flanagan, janitor in your place. You will give him the key of the schoolhouse, and he will at once assume your duties.
"PRINCE DUNCAN."
"Well, Tim," said Luke, calmly, "it appears that you are going to take my place."
"Yes, Luke, but I don't care much about it. My mother went to the squire and got me the job. The pay's a dollar a week, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"That isn't enough."
"It isn't very much, but there are not many ways of earning money here in Groveton."
"What do you have to do?"
"Make the fire every morning and sweep out twice a week.
Then there's dusting, splitting up kindlings, and so on."
"I don't think I'll like it. I ain't good at makin' fires."
"Squire Duncan writes you are to begin at once."
"Shure, I'm afraid I won't succeed."
"I'll tell you what, Tim. I'll help you along till you've got used to the duties. After a while they'll get easy for you."
"Will you now? You're a good feller, Luke. I thought you would be mad at losin' the job."
"I am not mad, but I