Ben, the Luggage Boy; Or, Among the Wharves Part 33

"Tell me how it was, my lad," said Mr. Sampson, kindly. "I dare say you can give me a satisfactory explanation."

Ben felt grateful for the kindness of his tone. He saw that he was not condemned unheard, but had a chance of clearing himself.

He explained, briefly, how it occurred. Of course it is unnecessary to give his account, for we know all about it already.

"I believe you," said Mr. Sampson, in a friendly tone. "The only fault I have to find with you is that you might have been more careful in guarding your pockets."

"That's so," said Ben; "but I don't often carry anything that's worth stealing."

"No, I suppose not," said Mr. Sampson, smiling. "Well, it appears that no serious loss has occurred. The money will be recovered, as it is in the hands of the authorities. As to the delay, that is merely an inconvenience; but the most serious inconvenience falls upon you, in your being brought here."

"I don't mind that as long as the money is safe," said Ben. "It'll all be right in the morning."

"I see you are a philosopher. I see your face is swelled. You must have got a blow."

"Yes," said Ben; "the chap that took my letter left me something to remember him by."

"I shall try to make it up to you," said Mr. Sampson. "I can't stop any longer, but I will be present at your trial, and my testimony will undoubtedly clear you."

He took his leave, leaving Ben considerably more cheerful than before. A station-house is not a very agreeable place of detention; but then Ben was not accustomed to luxury, and the absence of comfort did not trouble him much. He cared more for the loss of his liberty, finding the narrow cell somewhat too restricted for enjoyment. However, he consoled himself by reflecting, to use his favorite phrase, that it would "all be right in the morning."

It will not be necessary to give a circ.u.mstantial account of Ben's trial. Mr. Sampson was faithful to his promise, and presented himself, somewhat to his personal inconvenience, at the early hour a.s.signed for trial. His testimony was brief and explicit, and cleared Ben. The real pickpocket, however, being recognized by the judge as one who had been up before him some months before, charged with a similar offence, was sentenced to a term of imprisonment, considerably to his dissatisfaction.

Ben left the court-room well pleased with the result. His innocence had been established, and he had proved that he could be trusted, or rather, he had not proved faithless to his trust, and he felt that with his present plans and hopes he could not afford to lose his character for honesty. He knew that he had plenty of faults, but at any rate he was not a thief.

While he stood on the steps of the Tombs, in which the trial had taken place, Mr. Sampson advanced towards him, and touched him on the shoulder.

"Well, my lad," he said, in a friendly manner, "so you're all right once more?"

"Yes," said Ben; "I knew it would all be right in the morning."

"I owe you something for the inconvenience you have suffered while in my employ. Here is a ten-dollar bill. I hope you will save it till you need it, and won't spend it foolishly."

"Thank you," said Ben, joyfully. "I'll put it in the bank."

"That will be a good plan. Good-morning; when you need a friend, you will know where to find me."

He shook Ben's hand in a friendly way and left him.

"He's a trump," thought Ben. "If my father'd treated me like that, I'd never have wanted to run away from home."

CHAPTER XXI.

IN A NEW LINE.

"Ten dollars!" said Ben to himself, with exultation. "That's pretty good pay for a few hours in the station-house. I'd like to board there a week on the same terms."

Ben's capital now amounted to eleven dollars; but of this sum he decided to retain one dollar as a reserve to fall back upon in case of need. The ten dollars he determined to deposit at once in a savings-bank. He accordingly bent his steps towards one in the course of the forenoon.

The business was quickly transacted, and Ben left the building with a bank-book containing an entry of his first deposit.

This was a very good beginning, so Ben thought. Fifty dollars, as he had estimated, would enable him to carry out the plan which he proposed, and he had already one-fifth of the sum. But the acc.u.mulation of the other forty dollars would no doubt take him a considerable time. The business of a "baggage-smasher," as Ben knew from experience, is precarious, the amount of gains depending partly upon luck. He had sometimes haunted the steamboat landings for hours without obtaining a single job. Now that he was anxious to get on, he felt this to be an objection. He began to consider whether there was any way of adding to his income.

After considerable thought he decided to buy a supply of weekly papers, which he could sell while waiting for a job. One advantage in selecting weekly papers rather than daily was this, that the latter must be sold within a few hours, or they prove a dead loss. A daily paper of yesterday is as unsalable as a last year's almanac. As Ben was liable to be interrupted in his paper business at any time by a chance to carry luggage, it was an important consideration to have a stock which would remain fresh for a few days.

This idea impressed Ben so favorably that he determined to act upon it at once. In considering where he should go for his supply of papers, he thought of a Broadway news-stand, which he frequently had occasion to pa.s.s. On reaching it, he said to the proprietor, "Where do you buy your papers?"

"What do you want to know for?"

"I thought maybe I'd go into the business."

"You don't think of setting up a stand, do you?" asked the man, with a significant glance at Ben's ragged attire.

"No," said Ben. "I haven't got capital enough for that, unless you'll sell out for fifty cents."

"I suppose you want a few to carry round and sell?"

"Yes."

"Where do you think of going with them?"

"Down to the wharves. I'm a baggage-smasher, and I thought I might make somethin' by sellin' papers, when I hadn't any baggage to carry."

"I get my papers from the 'American News Company' on Na.s.sau Street."

"I know the place well enough."

"What papers do you think I could sell best?" asked Ben.

"The picture papers go off as fast as any," said the street dealer.

"But I'll tell you what, my lad, maybe I can make an arrangement for you to sell papers for me."

"I don't think I'd like to stand here all day," said Ben, supposing the other to mean to engage him to tend the stand.

"I don't mean that."

"Well," said Ben, "I'm open to an offer, as the old maid of sixty told a feller that called to see her."

"I'll tell you what I mean. I'll give you a bundle of papers every morning to take with you. You will sell what you can, and bring back the rest at night."

"I like that," said Ben, with satisfaction. "But how much will I get?"

"It will depend on the price of the papers. 'Harper's Weekly' and 'Frank Leslie' sell for ten cents. I will allow you two cents on each of these.

On the 'Ledger' and 'Weekly,' and other papers of that price, I will allow one cent. You'd make rather more if you bought them yourself; but you might have them left on your hands."