The Telegraph Messenger Boy Part 13

These gentry have evil designs upon Damietta, as will be proven before we are many years older."

When Ben Mayberry reached the age of fifteen, he attained an important epoch in his life. He had long been one of the most skillful operators in the district, being remarkably quick and accurate.

I have told enough to prove his courteous disposition toward all who entered our office. The pretended Mr. Jones, who acted the part of the ignorant farmer, was, as I have stated, a high official of the company, who took odd means to test the character and skill of our employees. The test in the case of young Mayberry proved most satisfactory in every respect.

At my request, I was transferred to one of the cities in the Eastern States, where the climate agreed better with me. I was given charge of an important office, an advance made in my wages, and everything was done to make the change agreeable. Such being the fact, it is no a.s.sumption on my part to say that my administration of the exacting duties in Damietta had been fully appreciated by my superior officers.

Ben Mayberry was made manager of the office in his native city at a salary of seventy-five dollars per month. This statement the reader may doubt, for I am quite certain that no telegraphist of his age was ever given such an important charge, nor is anyone so young paid such a liberal salary; but, did I feel at liberty to do so, I could locate Ben Mayberry so closely that all skeptics could ascertain the facts, in a brief time, precisely as I have given them.

We have many office managers, in different parts of the country, who lack several years of their majority; but, as a rule, their stations are not very important, and their pay is nothing like what Ben received. There were exceptional circ.u.mstances in his case. He was unusually bright, he was very attentive, he was courteous, cheerful, and never shirked work.

He was popular with our patrons, and much of the increase in the business of the Damietta office was due to Ben alone. This became known to those above him, and they felt that an unusual promotion on his part would not only be a just recognition of his ability and devotion, but would do much to stimulate others to imitate the good example set by the boy.

In addition to all this, it cannot be denied that fortune favored Ben in a marked degree. The fact that he was swept down the river in the darkness and tempest, while trying to deliver a telegram for a messenger who was ill, and that he saved the life of a little girl, could not fail to operate strongly to his benefit. But he would have reached the end all the same, without these aids, just as you, my young friend, may attain the topmost round by climbing up, up, up, step after step, step after step.

There is no cup in this life without some drops of bitterness, and, despite the promotion of Ben, which he fully appreciated, he was cast down by another circ.u.mstance, which troubled him more than he would admit to his closest friends.

He had not seen sweet Dolly Willard since the grand children's party at Mr. Grandin's, more than two years previous. She had written him regularly every week for months, and he had been equally prompt in answering. Ben wrote a beautiful hand, and his missives to Dolly were long and affectionate. She would have visited her cousins in Damietta, had they not made a visit to Europe, which shut off the possibility of her doing so for some time to come.

Ben felt that under the circ.u.mstances it was hardly the thing for him to make a call upon Dolly in New York, though she invited him to do so.

But during the very week that Ben was given charge of the Damietta office, the mail failed to bring the usual letter from Dolly. He waited impatiently for several days and then wrote to her. There was no response to this, and he felt resentful. He held out for a fortnight, and then was so worried that he was forced to write again. But this was equally fruitless of results, and he became angry.

"She is getting to be quite a large girl; her folks are wealthy, and she has begun to realize that I am nothing but a poor telegraphist. Her folks have told her she must look higher, and she has come to that same mind herself. Ah, well; let it be so!"

That was expressive of his feelings. Sometimes Ben felt like rebelling against his fate. He had applied himself hard for years; he possessed an excellent education; he held a prominent position in the greatest telegraph company of the country, with a prospect of further advancement before him, and yet, because he was poor, he was looked down upon by those who were his inferiors in everything except the single one of wealth.

"It is a great disappointment," he sometimes murmured, "but I am young; most folks would laugh that one of my age should take such a fancy to a little girl like Dolly, and they would say I am certain to get over it very soon. And just there is where they would all make a great mistake."

And Ben Mayberry was right on that point.

CHAPTER XXIII

FACE TO FACE

Ben Mayberry was sitting at his desk in the Damietta office, one beautiful day in Indian summer, attentive as ever to his duties, when a carriage drove up to the door containing a young gentleman and a lady.

The former sprang lightly out and ran into the office, after the manner of one who was in a hurry to send an important telegram.

Suddenly, while Ben was looking at the youth he recognized him as Rutherford Richmond, with whom he had had several important meetings.

"Why, Rutherford, you have grown so much I didn't recognize you; I am glad to see you; how have you been?"

Ben reached his hand over the counter as he greeted the young man, but the latter affected not to hear him. Turning to the desk, he wrote out a message with great rapidity, wheeled about, and, without the slightest evidence of ever having seen Ben, handed him the paper and ordered the dispatch to be sent to New York.

This was the telegram:

"Richard Willard, No.-- Avenue, New York:

"Dolly and I reached here safe. Big party at Grandin's to-morrow; sure of grand time. Will take good care of Dolly.

"Rutherford Richmond."

As the writer hurried out the door, Ben followed him with his eyes.

There, in a handsome, single-seated carriage, sat a beautiful miss of thirteen or fourteen, elegantly dressed and looking straight toward him.

It was Dolly Willard, more enchanting than ever, her eyes luminous with health and her cheeks as pink and rosy as the delicate tint of the coral.

Ben was too shocked to salute her, and probably it was as well he did not do so, for she simply stared with scarcely less directness than did her companion.

Only by the most supreme exertion was the youth enabled to choke down his rebellious emotions, so that none in the office noticed his excitement.

It was the same on the morrow, and, as if the fates had combined to crush him in absolute wretchedness, he encountered Rutherford and Dolly riding out as he was making his way homeward. He affected not to see them, but he could not avoid furtively watching Dolly, who certainly was the most winsome-looking young miss he had ever seen.

"To-night another party is given by the Grandins. Their girls are ladies, and they treated me well when I was there more than two years ago, but in this matter Dolly has had all to say--that is, she and Rutherford. Well, if she is that sort of girl, I don't want anything to do with her."

That night, in spite of himself, Ben could not stay at home; he strolled along, a prey to his bitter thoughts, and mechanically walked in the direction of the splendid grounds of the wealthy jeweler, Mr. Grandin.

The sound of music from within aroused him.

He saw the lights glimmering through the beautiful shade trees, and could catch sight of the gayly-dressed figures flitting by the open windows.

"I can't feel any worse," muttered Ben, walking through the open gate, confident that he would attract no special attention.

He sauntered up the graveled walk, turning off to the right and moving slowly along, with his gaze fixed upon the gay lads and la.s.ses within, who seemed to be in the very height of enjoyment.

At that instant someone caught his arm, and Ben turned with an apology for his forgetfulness.

"I beg pardon, but I was so interested in the scene that I did not notice where I stepped----"

He paused, fairly gasping for breath, for there stood Dolly Willard at his side, with her hand upon his arm. The light streaming from the windows fell upon her charming face, on which there was an expression that young Mayberry did not understand.

"Ben," said she, in a voice that sounded unnatural, "I've got something I want to say to you."

"And I have a good deal that I would like to say to you," he retorted, firing up, now that the little empress stood before him.

CHAPTER XXIV

STARTLING DISCOVERIES

"You say you have something to speak about," added the boy, looking into the enchanting face, as it reflected the light from the windows near at hand; "I have only to suggest that it took you a good time to find it out."

"It is not I, but you who are to blame."

"Possibly I am to be blamed for being born poor while you are rich; but I have paid for my mistake, and it is now too late to correct it."