Kitobni o'qish: «Wait and Hope: or, A Plucky Boy's Luck», sahifa 4

Chapter X

Ben's Journey

Ben looked so cheerful and smiling that Tony asked: "Have you got work, Ben?"

"Not yet, Tony."

Mrs. Bradford shook her head rather despondently.

"We might as well go to the poorhouse first as last," she said.

"I don't think we had better go at all, Aunt Jane," said Ben.

"You can't find anything to do."

"Not yet, but I expect to some time."

"And what are we going to do till then?"

"I mean to fall back upon you, Aunt Jane. I think you will be able to keep us from starving."

"I don't know what you mean, Benjamin. I am sure I am willing to work; but last week I only earned a dollar and a quarter, and I don't feel sure of even doing that."

"I have got a plan for you, Aunt Jane."

"What is it?"

"You might take a boarder."

"Who would come to board with me?"

"Perhaps I can find you a boarder."

"Besides, any one that could pay a fair price would expect better living than we could afford."

"I don't think you will find that trouble with the boarder I have engaged for you."

"What do you mean, Benjamin?" asked Mrs. Bradford, in surprise.

"What would you say to boarding and taking care of a little girl of five?"

"Do you know of any such little girl?"

"Yes."

"What would her friends be willing to pay?"

"Seven dollars a week."

This was about twice as much as Mrs. Bradford expected, and she looked incredulous.

"I don't believe any one would pay such a price," she said.

Upon this Ben gave his aunt full particulars, and her usually sober face brightened up at the prospect of thus maintaining their home.

"I can hardly believe it," she said. "This Mr. Manning must be very liberal.

"The money doesn't come from him. He says the little girl has property, and can afford to pay well. He is coming round to-morrow morning to learn whether you will take her."

"Won't you take her, mother?" pleaded Tony.

"I shall be very glad of the chance," said Mrs. Bradford. "It will make us very comfortable."

"Still, Aunt Jane, if you would really prefer going to the poorhouse," said Ben, his eyes twinkling, "I will go round and see if you can get in."

"Never mind, Benjamin," said his aunt cheerfully. "I prefer to keep out of that place as long as I can."

"Would you like to have a little girl to play with, Tony?" asked Ben.

"It'll be bully," said Tony.

"Where did you learn that word, Tony?" inquired his mother, shocked.

"It isn't swearing, is it, mother?"

"No, but it is not refined."

"I'm too young to be refined, mother."

"But where did you learn it, Tony?"

Ben smiled. "Tony don't want to expose me, Aunt Jane," he said. "I suppose he learned it of me. It isn't a bad word."

"I never used it," said Mrs. Bradford primly.

"No, I should think not," said Ben, laughing. "I can't image you calling anything bully. It isn't a lady's word. You know, aunt, boys can't always use go-to-meetin' words. They want to be free and easy sometimes."

Here the discussion was dropped, and the evening was passed cheerfully.

The next morning Mr. Manning called. Admitted into the little cottage, he glanced quickly about him, and was pleased to find that, though the furniture was plain, there was evidences of neatness. Mrs. Bradford, too, in spite of her tendency to low spirits, impressed him favorable, as likely to be kind and judicious. But perhaps what influenced him as much as anything was the presence of Tony, for he held that a child companion would be very desirable for his young ward. He repeated the offer of seven dollars a week.

"I am afraid it will hardly be worth that, Mr. Manning, though it will be very welcome to us," said Mrs. Bradford.

"I prefer to pay liberally, since the property left to my young charge is ample. Besides, she will be more or less care. I shall have to trouble you to provide the little girl with suitable attire, charging, of course, all outlays to me."

"I shall be very glad to do so, Mr. Manning. When do you wish the child to come?"

"As soon as possible."

"Will you bring her yourself?"

"There will be some difficulty about that," answered Mr. Manning hesitatingly. "I can't leave my business."

"Where is she, may I ask?"

"In New York."

"Can't I go for her?" asked Ben eagerly.

"Why, Benjamin," expostulated his aunt, "you have never traveled.

I wouldn't trust you by yourself, much less with the care of a child."

Mr. Manning smiled, but Ben was annoyed.

"Why, Aunt Jane, you must think me a baby," he said. "I guess I can take care of myself."

"I wouldn't dare to go to New York myself alone," said his aunt.

"Oh, that's different," said Ben. "You're a woman, and of course you couldn't take care of yourself."

"And you are a man, I suppose?" said Mr. Manning, amused.

"I shall be some time, and Aunt Jane never will," returned Ben.

"I think, Mrs. Bradford," said Mr. Manning, "that your nephew is right in that. Seriously, I am inclined to favor the plan."

"Do you really think Benjamin can be trusted, Mr. Manning?"

"I really do."

"He has never been away from home."

"I think he has plenty of self-reliance, and will quickly learn what little is needed about traveling. I am willing to trust him."

"Thank you, sir," said Ben, much gratified, feeling a high respect for Mr. Manning's judgment.

"Can you get him ready to go with me by the twelve-o'clock train?" asked Mr. Manning.

"Twelve o'clock!" ejaculated Mrs. Bradford, startled. "Why, it's nine now."

"Well, aunt, can't I change my clothes in three hours?" asked Ben impatiently.

"But to go on such a journey! It seems so sudden."

"I don't think there will be any trouble in getting ready," said Mr. Manning, to whom the journey to New York seemed like a mere trifle, though it was nearly six hundred miles away. "Of course," he continued, "I shall pay his expenses. And" – and here he hesitated a little, from motives of delicacy – "allow me to pay two weeks' board in advance. You may have occasion to use the money."

"Thank you, sir," said Mrs. Bradford gratefully.

It did, indeed, relieve her from anxious embarrassment, for her purse was very low; and if Ben were gone any length of time, she would have been in a dilemma.

"I think we have settled all that is needful," said Mr. Manning, rising to go. "If anything else occurs to me, I will either tell Ben or write to you. Good morning, Mrs. Bradford."

"Good morning, sir."

Turning to Ben, Mr. Manning said:

"Ben, let me see you at the hotel as early as half-past eleven."

"I'll be on hand, sir," said Ben. "I'll get there earlier, if you say so."

"Just as you like. When you come, call for me."

"Yes, sir."

"It doesn't seem as if you were going away, Ben," said Tony.

"I can't hardly realize it myself, Tony."

"It's a great responsibility, Benjamin," said his aunt, beginning to look serious. "Suppose the cars run off the track."

"I guess they won't, Aunt Jane."

"I was reading of an accident out West only yesterday."

"I am not going out West, Aunt Jane. I guess I'll reach New York right side up with care."

"What an expression, Benjamin!"

Ben laughed.

"Only boys' talk, aunty. It means all right."

"Don't you go on the steamboat, too, Benjamin?"

"I guess so."

"The boiler may explode."

"If everybody thought that, nobody would travel, Aunt Jane. It doesn't happen once in a thousand times."

At last Ben got ready.

He was very much excited, but his excitement was of a pleasurable kind. One his way to the hotel, he met James Watson.

"Where ware you going, all dressed up, Ben?"

"Going to New York," answered Ben proudly.

"You're only foolin'!"

"No, I'm not. I'm going to New York by the twelve-o'clock train."

"What for?" asked James astonished.

"To escort a lady home," answered Ben. "She wants an able-bodied escort, that's used to traveling."

James was very much surprised, and also a little incredulous, but he was finally convinced that Benn was in earnest.

"I wish I were in your shoes," he said enviously. "There's nothing I'd like better than going to New York. You're a lucky boy!"

Ben quite agreed with him.

Chapter XI

In New York

Of the journey to New York I do not purpose to speak. Ben enjoyed it extremely, for it gave him his first view of the great world. As he whirled by town after town and city after city, and reflected how small, after all, was the distance on the map between Milltown and New York, he got a new idea of the size of the world.

"What are you thinking about, Ben?" asked Mr. Manning, observing that our hero looked thoughtful.

"I was thinking how large the world is, sir."

"Didn't you ever think of that before?"

"No, sir; I have always lived in Milltown. I don't think I was ever ten miles from home before."

"Then your ideas were necessarily contracted. One advantage of travel is, that it broadens our views, not only as regards distance, but also of men and things."

Ben assented, though he did not fully understand his companion's statement.

From time to time Ben asked questions of Mr. Manning; but after a while that gentlemen met a friend on the cars, and Ben was left pretty much to himself.

They did not reach New York till midnight.

"I will take you to my boarding-house to-night, Ben," said his companion. "Tomorrow we will talk over our plans."

A hansom conveyed them to a house in an up-town street, where Mr. Manning boarded. Of course Ben could not at that hour see much of the great city which he was visiting for the first time. Besides, he was quite fatigued, and felt more like closing his eyes in sleep than using them.

Mr. Manning's rooms were very comfortable, and even luxurious.

Ben slept soundly till his companion waked him up.

"Come, Ben, it's eight o'clock, and the breakfast bell is ringing.

Haven't you had sleep enough?"

The sun was shining bright in at the window, and the noise of carriages could be heard in the street beneath.

Ben looked about him in momentary bewilderment.

"Don't you know where you are?" asked Mr. Manning smiling.

"Yes, I am in New York," said Ben, his face brightening up.

"I'll be dressed in less than no time," he exclaimed, leaping out of bed, and setting to work energetically.

"If you keep your promise I certainly can't complain," said Mr. Manning.

"Shall we be late to breakfast?" asked Ben, with some anxiety.

"There will be others later. So you feel hungry, do you?"

"Uncommonly hungry," said Ben. "I guess it's travelling that gives me an appetite. What a nice place you live in, Mr. Manning! It's very handy having water come out of pipes. How do they do it?"

"I'll explain to you some time, when we are not in such a hurry."

"All right, sir."

Ben was soon dressed, and went down to breakfast with his new patron. There was quite a difference between the appearance of the table at this fashionable boarding house and their plain breakfast table at home; but Ben was one who easily adapted himself to new circumstances, and did not display any greenness.

"Now, Ben," said Mr. Manning, as they rose from the table, "I suppose you are not in a very great hurry to go home."

"No, sir."

"You would like to see a little of the city?"

"Yes, sir, very much."

"I think day after to-morrow will be early enough to go back. You write a line to your aunt, so that she need not feel anxious."

"Thank you, sir. Where is the little girl?"

"She is temporarily staying at the house of a married sister of mine. My sister is rather an invalid, or she might keep her permanently. I shall not have time to go round and introduce you to-day, for my business will occupy me closely."

"Where shall I go, sir?" asked Ben.

"Wherever you like. You can wander round the city, and see whatever pleases you. Only be back a little before six o'clock, for that is our dinner hour."

"Dinner at six!" repeated Ben astonished, for he had always been accustomed to dine at twelve. "When do you take supper?"

"We don't sup at all, that is, not regularly. In the middle of the day we take lunch. You can go into some restaurant, and buy lunch."

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, by the by, have you got any money?" asked Mr. Manning.

"A little," answered Ben.

"How much?"

Ben produced thirty-seven cents in change.

"That is rather short allowance," said Mr. Manning. "Here take this."

He handed him a two-dollar bill.

"I don't need so much, Mr. Manning," said Ben.

But two dollars were not so much in the eyes of his patron, as in his.

"I dare say you can find a use for it," he said smiling.

"Thank you, sir."

"Well, good morning; or perhaps it will be as well for you to accompany me as far as Broadway. There I shall take a car, and you can saunter along as you please."

A brief walk brought them to Broadway, and then they separated.

Ben wandered down Broadway, amused at the sight until he same to Twenty-third Street, where he stopped. Ben look at it with admiration. He had never seen such structures, nor dreamed of their existence.

"New York's a splendid city!" he said to himself.

As he was looking about him, some one addressed him:

"What are you looking at Johnny?"

"My name isn't Johnny," answered Ben, turning toward the boy who had accosted him.

The boy puffed out his cheeks and whistled.

"When did you come from the country?" he asked.

"Why are you so anxious to know?" inquired Ben, who saw that the other was making game of him, and was not overwell pleased.

"Why, you see, Barnum has offered twenty-five cents for a country greenhorn, and I guess you'll do," said the boy, with his tongue in his cheek.

Ben was irritated at first, but he concluded to take it as a joke.

"I am not for sale at that price," he said, adding good humoredly, "I am green, I suppose. This is my first visit to the city. Can you tell me the name of that building?"

"That's the Imperial Hotel. Have you got a cigarette to spare?"

"No," said Ben; "I don't smoke."

"Then you ain't civilized," said the boy. "I've smoked for five years."

"You have!" exclaimed Ben, amazed. "Why, you don't look any older than I am."

"I'm sixteen."

"And I'm not quite fifteen."

Ben noticed that the boy had none of the youthful bloom which mantled his own cheeks. He was already paying the penalty of his early use of tobacco.

"You're a big boy of your age," said the city boy.

Ben thought that the other was small for his age, but he did not say so.

"Look here, Johnny," said the New York boy.

"My name is Ben."

"What's the odds? Well, Ben, if you'll give me a quarter. I'll go round and show you some of the sights; what do you say?"

Ben hesitated. It seemed to him a little extravagant. At the same time his curiosity was aroused, and he finally agreed to the proposal. When he returned to his home in the country, he felt that he should like to be able to tell his companions something of the city he had visited.

"Give me five cents in advance," said the newly engaged guide.

"What for?" asked Ben, cautiously.

"I want to get some cigarettes."

Ben complied with his request.

The boy darted into a small cigar store, and soon emerged with a cigarette in his mouth at which he puffed with evident pleasure.

"Won't you try one?" he asked.

"I guess not," said Ben.

"Come along, then. You ask any questions about what you see, and

I'll answer."

"What's that field? It's a common, isn't it?" asked Ben pointing to a park after they walked down Broadway for a few blocks.

"Oh, that's Madison Park; but we've got a good deal bigger park than that up-town. Central Park – that's the name of it."

"Is it far off?"

"About two miles. Do you want to go there?"

"No, I'd rather see the streets, and the nice buildings. I can see plenty of fields at home."

"Are you going to stay long in the city?" asked, Tom, for this Ben learned was the name of his companion.

"Only a day or two. I want to see as much as I can while I am here."

They walked down Broadway, Tom pointing out the prominent buildings, and answering the numerous questions asked by Ben. On the whole, he proved to be a very good investment in the way of a guide, being well-informed on the subjects about which Ben inquired.

When they reached the Astor House, Tom said: "I guess you've got a quarter's worth out of me. If you want me any longer you must give me another quarter."

"I can't afford it," said Ben, "I guess I can get round by myself now."

So Tom left him with scant ceremony, and Ben sat down on a bench in City Hall Park to rest.

Chapter XII

An Adventure

Presently a young man, rather showily dressed, sat down beside Ben.

He glanced sharply at our hero, but did not immediately address him.

Finally he said: "Fine day, my young friend."

"Yes, sir, very fine," returned Ben politely.

"I suppose you live in the city?"

"No, sir, I am here only on a visit," said Ben, rather flattered by the supposition.

"I don't look so green, after all," he thought.

"So am I," said the other, "I live in Philadelphia."

"I am from the country," said Ben.

"Indeed! You have lived in the city some time, have you not?"

"No, sir."

"I am surprised to hear it. You have the appearance of a city boy."

Ben was not inaccessible to flattery. It was not surprising that he regarded the young man from Philadelphia with favor.

"Have you dined?" inquired the stranger.

"Not yet," said Ben. "I don't know where to find a restaurant."

"Say no more about it, my young friend. I shall be glad to have you dine with me. I know a good place, quite near by."

"You are very kind," said Ben, "considering that I am a stranger."

"I have a young cousin who resembles you very closely. I suppose that is why I cannot regard you as a stranger. By the way, what is your name?"

"Ben Bradford."

"Singular coincidence! My cousin is named Benjamin. My name is John Smithson. Well, Ben, if you will allow me the familiarity, suppose we go to dinner."

"Thank you, Mr. Smithson."

Ben followed his new acquaintance to a moderately-priced restaurant in Fulton Street. It was the first time he had ever been to an eating-house, and looked with interest at the numerous tables.

Smithson and he took seats at a small table opposite each other, and the former began to inspect the bill of fare.

"I hope you have a good appetite, my young friend," he said, "so that you may do justice to my hospitality."

"City people seem to be very kind," thought Ben. "No one in

Milltown would pay me such attention."

Finally he made his selection, and so did Smithson.

At the end of half-an-hour the dinner was concluded.

Smithson looked at the checks.

"Sixty cents and seventy-five cents," he said; "that makes a dollar and thirty-five cents."

"Yes, sir."

"I have go to step out a minute," said Smithson. "Oblige me by paying at the desk out of this bill."

As he spoke he handed Ben a five-dollar bill.

"But," said Ben, "there will be nearly four dollars left."

"Meet me an hour hence at the place where we were seated, and hand me the balance of the money."

"But," said Ben, "I might miss you. Haven't you better pay yourself, as you go out?"

"I am in a great hurry, to meet an engagement," said Smithson.

"Suppose I shouldn't meet you. Suppose I should keep the money."

"No fear. You look honest. Well, meet me in an hour;" and he hurried out of the restaurant, saying, with a nod to the cashier: "The boy will pay."

Here was another compliment, Ben thought. A perfect stranger had trusted him with three dollars and sixty-five cents, which he might readily make off with.

"I am glad I look honest," thought Ben. "I seem to be treated very well."

Two minutes later he went up to the cashier's desk, and, laying down the two checks, extended the five-dollar bill. The cashier was about to make change when his attention seemed to be drawn to the bill. He held it up, and scrutinized it very closely, considerably to Ben's surprise.

"Young man," said he suspiciously, "where did you get this bill?"

"From the man that came in with me," answered Ben.

"Are you aware that this is a bad bill?" asked the cashier sharply.

"A bad bill?" exclaimed Ben, in genuine surprise. "No, I had no idea of it."

"Who is this man who gave it to you? Do you know him?"

"He said his name was Smithson, from Philadelphia. I never saw him before this morning."

"What were you to do with the change I gave you back? Did he tell you to keep it?"

"No, sir. I was to meet him in the park in an hour and give it to him."

"He has been making a catspaw of you."

"I don't understand," said Ben.

"Knowing the bill to be bad, he did not venture to offer it himself, as it would make him liable to arrest."

"Arrest!" exclaimed Ben, in dismay.

"Yes. One who knowingly offers a counterfeit bill is liable to arrest and imprisonment."

"I hope you don't think I knew anything about it," said Ben alarmed.

"No; you look too honest to be a confederate of a scoundrel."

"He ought to be ashamed of himself to impose upon me," said Ben indignantly. "What shall I do?"

"Have you any other money?"

Ben produced a two-dollar bill.

"I will take pay out of this for your share of the dinner, and with your help I propose to arrest your companion."

The cashier briefly explained his plan. A policeman was summoned, and Ben was instructed to meet Smithson at the time appointed, and tender him the change.

He did so.

Smithson looked up eagerly as Ben approached.

"Have you got the change?" he asked.

"Yes," said Ben.

"Give it to me."

Ben drew fro his vest-pocket three dollars and sixty-five cents, with which he had been provided, and tendered them to the young man, who eagerly took them.

"Much obliged," said Smithson, looking elated at the supposed success of his plan.

Just then, a quiet-looking man, a detective in citizen's clothes, stepped up and laid his hand on the swindler's arm.

"Mr. Smithson, I want you."

"What for?" inquired Smithson, turning pale.

"For passing a counterfeit bill."

"I have passed no counterfeit," faltered Smithson.

"You employed this boy to do it for you."

"There's some mistake," said Smithson stammering. "You can't prove anything."

"With this boy's help we can. Don't trouble yourself to invent excuses. You have been suspected for some time."

"The boy lies," said Smithson fiercely.

"If he does it will be found out. Come along with me."

Much against his will, Smithson walked arm-in-arm with the detective. Ben was notified to be in attendance at court the next morning, at ten o'clock, to testify against his new friend.

"I am more of a greenhorn than I thought," Ben said to himself. "Who would have thought such a polite young man was a counterfeiter!"

About four o'clock Ben went up-town to Mr. Manning's boarding-house, and remained there till the merchant arrived.