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?"