"However, you can easily
overcome the difficulty by bringing the boy down here to authorize
me to hand you the money."
"It seems to me that you have plenty of red tape here," said
Coleman, shrugging his shoulders. "However, I must do as you
require."
Coleman had a bright thought, which he proceeded to carry
into execution.
He left the office and went upstairs. He was absent long enough to
visit the chamber which he and Luke had occupied together. Then he
reported to the office again.
"The boy is not dressed," he said, cheerfully. "However, he has
given me an order for the money, which, of course, will do as well."
He handed a paper, the loose leaf of a memorandum book,
on which were written in pencil these words:
"Give my guardian, Mr. Coleman, the money I left on deposit
at the office. LUKE LARKIN."
"That makes it all right, doesn't it?" asked Coleman, jauntily.
"Now, if you'll be kind enough to hand me my money at once, I'll
be off."
"It won't do, Mr. Coleman," said the clerk. "How am I to know
that the boy wrote this?"
"Don't you see his signature?"
The clerk turned to the hotel register, where Luke had enrolled
his name.
"The handwriting is not the same," he said, coldly.
"Oh, confound it!" exclaimed Coleman, testily. "Can't you
understand that writing with a pencil makes a difference?"
"I understand," said the clerk, "that you are trying to get
money that does not belong to you.
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