Ben, the Luggage Boy: or, Among the Wharves

"Well, you aint wanted here, and you'd better make tracks," said Tim, who considered this the best argument of all.

"Suppose I don't," said Ben.

"Then I'll give you a lickin'."

Ben surveyed the boy who uttered this threat, in the same manner that a general would examine an opposing force, with a view to ascertain his strength and ability to cope with him. It was clear that Tim was taller than himself, and doubtless older. As to being stronger, Ben did not feel so positive. He was himself well and compactly made, and strong of his age. He did not relish the idea of being imposed upon, and prepared to resist any encroachment upon his rights. He did not believe that Tim had any right to order him off. He felt that the sidewalk was just as free to him as to any other boy, and he made up his mind to assert and maintain his right.

"If you want to give me a licking, just try it," he said. "I've got just as much right to stand here and sell papers as you have, and I'm going to do it."

"You needn't be so stuck up jest because you've got good clo'es on."

"If they are good, I can't help it," said Ben. "They're all I have, and they won't be good long."

"Maybe I could get good clo'es if I'd steal em," said Tim.

"Do you mean to say I stole these?" retorted Ben, angrily. He had no sooner said it, however, than he thought of the pies which he should have stolen if he had not been detected, and his face flushed. Luckily Tim did not know why his words produced an effect upon Ben, or he would have followed up his attack.

"Yes, I do," said Tim.

"Then you judge me by yourself," said Ben, "that's all I've got to say."

"Say that ag'in," said Tim, menacingly.

"So I will, if you want to hear it. You judge me by yourself."

"I'll give you a lickin'."

"You've said that before."

Tim was not particularly brave. Still Ben was a smaller boy, and besides he had a friend at hand to back him, so he concluded that it would be safe to venture. Doubling up a dirty fist, he struck out, intending to hit Ben in the face; but our young adventurer was on his guard, and fended off the blow with his arms.

"Will yer go now?" demanded Tim, pausing after his attack.

"Why should I?"

"If you don't I'll give you another lick."

"I can stand it, if it isn't any worse than that."

Tim was spurred by this to renew the assault. He tried to throw his arms around Ben, and lift him from the ground, which would enable him to throw him with greater ease. But Ben was wary, and experienced in this mode of warfare, having often had scuffles in fun with his school-fellows. He evaded Tim's grasp, therefore, and dealt him a blow in the breast, which made Tim stagger back. He began to realize that Ben, though a smaller boy, was a formidable opponent, and regretted that he had undertaken a contest with him. He was constrained to appeal to his companion for assistance.

"Just lend a hand, Jack, and we'll give it to him."

"So you have to ask help," said Ben, scornfully, "though you're bigger than I am."

"I could lick yer well enough alone," said Tim, "but you've been interferin' with Jack's business, as well as mine."

Jack responded to his friend's appeal, and the two advanced to the assault of Ben. Of course all this took place much more quickly than it has taken to describe it. The contest commenced, and our young adventurer would have got the worst of it, if help had not arrived. Though a match for either of the boys singly, he could not be expected to cope with both at a time, especially as he was smaller than either.

Tim found himself seized forcibly by the arm, just as he was about to level a blow at Ben. Looking up, he met the glance of another newsboy, a boy of fourteen, who was known among his comrades as "Rough and Ready." This boy was stout and strong, and was generally liked by those of his class for his generous qualities, as well as respected for his physical strength, which he was always ready to exert in defence of a weaker boy.

"What's all this, Tim?" he demanded. "Aint you ashamed, the two of you, to pitch into a smaller boy?"

"He aint got no business here," said Tim, doggedly.

"Why not?"

"He's takin' away all our trade."

"Hasn't he just as much right to sell papers as you?"

"He can go somewhere else."

"So can you."

"He's a new boy. This is the first day he's sold papers."

"Then you ought to be able to keep up with him. What's your name, young un?"

This question was, of course, addressed to Ben.

"Ben," answered our young hero. He did not think it necessary to mention his other name, especially as, having run away from home, he had a vague idea that it might lead to his discovery.

"Well, Ben, go ahead and sell your papers. I'll see that you have fair play."

"Thank you," said Ben. "I'm not afraid of either of them."

"Both of them might be too much for you."

"I don't want to interfere with their business. They've got just as good a chance to sell as I have."

"Of course they have. Is this your first day?"

"Yes."

"How many papers have you sold?"

"Six 'Posts' and six 'Expresses.'"

"That's pretty good for a beginning. Are you going to get some more?"

"Yes, I was just going into the office when that boy," pointing to Tim, "tried to drive me off."

"He won't do it again. Come in with me. I'm going to buy some papers too."

"What's your name?" asked Ben. "I like you; you're not mean, like those fellows."

"My name is Rufus, but the boys call me Rough and Ready."