CHAPTER XVIII.
LUCK AND ILL LUCK.
"That will do very well for a beginning," thought Ben, as he surveyed,with satisfaction, the two half dollars which he had received for hismorning's services. He determined to save one of them towards the fundwhich he hoped to accumulate for the object which he had in view. Howmuch he would need he could not decide; but thought that it would besafe to set the amount at fifty dollars. This would doubtless require aconsiderable time to obtain. He could not expect to be so fortunateevery day as he had been this morning. Some days, no doubt, he wouldbarely earn enough to pay expenses. Still he had made a beginning, andthis was something gained. It was still more encouraging that he haddetermined to save money, and had an inducement to do so.
As Ben rode down town in the horse-cars, he thought of the six yearswhich he had spent as a New York street boy; and he could not helpfeeling that the time had been wasted, so far as any progress orimprovement was concerned. Of books he knew less than when he first cameto the city. He knew more of life, indeed, but not the best side oflife. He had formed some bad habits, from which he would probably havebeen saved if he had remained at home. Ben realized all at once how muchhe had lost by his hasty action in leaving home. He regarded his streetlife with different eyes, and felt ready to give it up, as soon as hecould present himself to his parents without too great a sacrifice ofhis pride.
At the end of half an hour, Ben found himself at the termination of thecar route, opposite the lower end of the City Hall Park.
As the letter which he had to deliver was to be carried to Wall Street,he kept on down Broadway till he reached Trinity Church, and then turnedinto the street opposite. He quickly found the number indicated, andentered Mr. Abercrombie's office. It was a handsome office on the lowerfloor. Two or three clerks were at work at their desks.
"So this is my brother-in-law's office," thought Ben. "It's ratherbetter than mine."
"Well, young man, what can I do for you to-day?" inquired a clerk, in atone which indicated that he thought Ben had got into the wrong shop.
"You can tell me whether your name is Sampson," answered Ben, coolly.
"No, it isn't."
"That's what I thought."
"Suppose I am not; what then?"
"Then the letter I've got isn't for you, that's all."
"So you've got a letter, have you?"
"That's what I said."
"It seems to me you're mighty independent," sneered the clerk, who feltaggrieved that Ben did not show him the respect which he conceived to behis due.
"Thank you for the compliment," said Ben, bowing.
"You can hand me the letter."
"I thought your name wasn't Sampson."
"I'll hand it to Mr. Sampson. He's gone out a moment. He'll be indirectly."
"Much obliged," said Ben; "but I'd rather hand it to Mr. Sampson myself.Business aint particularly pressin' this mornin', so, if you'll hand methe mornin' paper, I'll read till he comes."
"Well, you've got cheek," ejaculated the clerk.
"I've got two of 'em if I counted right when I got up," said Ben.
Here there was a laugh from the other two clerks.
"He's too smart for you, Granby," said one.
"He's impudent enough," muttered the first, as he withdrew discomfitedto his desk.
The enemy having retreated, Ben sat down in an arm-chair, and, pickingup a paper, began to read.
He had not long to wait. Five minutes had scarcely passed when a man ofmiddle age entered the office. His manner showed that he belonged there.
"If you're Mr. Sampson," said Ben, approaching him, "here is a letterfor you."
"That is my name," said the gentleman, opening the note at once.
"You come from Mrs. Abercrombie," he said, glancing at Ben, as hefinished reading it.
"Yes, sir," said Ben.
"How did she happen to select you as her messenger?"
"I went up there this morning to carry a valise."
"I have a great mind to send you back to her with an answer; but Ihesitate on one account."
"What is that?" asked Ben.
"I don't know whether you can be trusted."
"Nor I," said Ben; "but I'm willin' to run the risk."
"No doubt," said Mr. Sampson, smiling; "but it seems to me that I shouldrun a greater risk than you."
"I don't know about that," answered Ben. "If it's money, and I keep it,you can send the copps after me, and I'll be sent to the Island. Thatwould be worse than losing money."
"That's true; but some of you boys don't mind that. However, I aminclined to trust you. Mrs. Abercrombie asks for a sum of money, andwishes me to send it up by one of the clerks. That I cannot very welldo, as we are particularly busy this morning. I will put the money in anenvelope, and give it to you to deliver. I will tell you beforehand thatit is fifty dollars."
"Very good," said Ben; "I'll give it to her."
"Wait a moment."
Mr. Sampson went behind the desk, and reappeared almost directly.
"Mrs. Abercrombie will give you a line to me, stating that she hasreceived the money. When you return with this, I will pay you for yourtrouble."
"All right," said Ben.
As he left the office the young clerk first mentioned said, "I amafraid, Mr. Sampson, Mrs. Abercrombie will never see that money."
"Why not?"
"The boy will keep it."
"What makes you think so?"
"He's one of the most impudent young rascals I ever saw."
"I didn't form that opinion. He was respectful enough to me."
"He wasn't to me."
Mr. Sampson smiled a little. He had observed young Granby's assumptionof importance, and partly guessed how matters stood.
"It's too late to recall him," he said. "I must run the risk. My ownopinion is that he will prove faithful."
Ben had accepted the commission gladly, not alone because he would getextra pay for the additional errand, but because he saw that there wassome hesitation in the mind of Mr. Sampson about trusting him, and hemeant to show himself worthy of confidence. There were fifty dollars inthe envelope. He had never before been trusted with that amount ofmoney, and now it was rather because no other messenger could beconveniently sent that he found himself so trusted. Not a thought ofappropriating the money came to Ben. True, it occurred to him that thiswas precisely the sum which he needed to fit him out respectably. Butthere would be greater cause for shame if he appeared well dressed onstolen money, than if he should present himself in rags to his sister.However, it is only just to Ben to say that had the party to whom hewas sent been different, he would have discharged his commissionhonorably. Not that he was a model boy, but his pride, which was in somerespects a fault with him, here served him in good stead, as it made himashamed to do a dishonest act.
Ben rightly judged that the money would be needed as soon as possible,and, as the distance was great, he resolved to ride, trusting to Mr.Sampson's liberality to pay him for the expense which he would thusincur in addition to the compensation allowed for his services.
He once more made his way to the station of the Fourth Avenue cars, andjumped aboard one just ready to start.
The car gradually filled, and they commenced their progress up town.
Ben took a seat in the corner next to the door. Next to him was a manwith black hair and black whiskers. He wore a tall felt hat with a bellcrown, and a long cloak. Ben took no particular notice of him, being toomuch in the habit of seeing strange faces to observe them minutely. Theletter he put in the side pocket of his coat, on the side nearest thestranger. He took it out once to look at it. It was addressed to Mrs.Abercrombie, at her residence, and in one corner Mr. Sampson had written"Money enclosed."
Now it chanced, though Ben did not suspect it, that the man at his sidewas a member of the swell mob, and his main business was pickingpockets. He observed the two words, already quoted, on the envelope whenBen took it in his hand, and he made up
his mind to get possession ofit. This was comparatively easy, for Ben's pocket was on the sidetowards him. Our hero was rather careless, it must be owned, but ithappened that the inside pocket of his coat had been torn away, whichleft him no other receptacle for the letter. Besides, Ben had never beenin a situation to have much fear of pick pockets, and under ordinarycircumstances he would hardly have been selected as worth plundering.But the discovery that the letter contained money altered the case.
While Ben was looking out from the opposite window across the street,the stranger dexterously inserted his hand in his pocket, and withdrewthe letter. They were at that moment just opposite the Tombs.
Having gained possession of the letter, of course it was his interest toget out of the car as soon as possible, since Ben was liable at anymoment to discover his loss.
He touched the conductor, who was just returning from the other end ofthe car, after collecting the fares.
"I'll get out here," he said.
The conductor accordingly pulled the strap, and the car stopped.
The stranger gathered his cloak about him, and, stepping out on theplatform, jumped from the car. Just at that moment Ben put his hand intohis pocket, and instantly discovered the loss of the letter. Heimmediately connected it with the departure of his fellow-passenger,and, with a hasty ejaculation, sprang from the car, and started inpursuit of him.
Ben, the Luggage Boy; Or, Among the Wharves Page 18
