Ben, the Luggage Boy: or, Among the Wharves

"We will do our best to spoil it," said Mrs. Abercrombie.

She rang the bell, and ordered breakfast to be served.

"We are a little late this morning," she said.

"Mr. Abercrombie is in Philadelphia on business; so you won't see him till to-morrow."

When the servant appeared, Mrs. Abercrombie directed her to take Ben downstairs, and give him something to eat.

"Don't go away till I see you, Ben," said Charles, lingering a little.

"All right," said Ben.

He followed the servant down the stairs leading to the basement. On the way, he had a glimpse through the half-open door of the breakfast-table, at which his sister and his cousin were shortly to sit down.

"Some time, perhaps, I shall be invited in there," he said to himself.

But at present he had no such wish. He knew that in his ragged garb he would be out of place in the handsome breakfast-room, and he preferred to wait until his appearance was improved. He had no fault to find with the servants, who brought him a bountiful supply of beefsteak and bread and butter, and a cup of excellent coffee. Ben had been up long enough to have quite an appetite. Besides, the quality of the breakfast was considerably superior to those which he was accustomed to take in the cheap restaurants which he frequented, and he did full justice to the food that was spread before him.

When he had satisfied his appetite, he had a few minutes to wait before Charles came down to speak to him.

"Well, Ben, I hope you had a good breakfast," he said.

"Tip-top," answered Ben.

"And I hope also that you had an appetite equal to mine."

"My appetite don't often give out," said Ben; "but it aint so good now as it was when I came in."

"Now we have a little business to attend to. How much shall I pay you for smashing my baggage?" Charles asked, with a laugh.

"Whatever you like."

"Well, here's fifty cents for your services, and six cents for your car-fare back."

"Thank you," said Ben.

"Besides this, Mrs. Abercrombie has a note, which she wants carried down town to her husband's office in Wall Street. She will give you fifty cents more, if you will agree to deliver it there at once, as it is of importance."

"All right," said Ben. "I'll do it."

"Here is the note. I suppose you had better start with it at once. Good-morning."

"Good-morning," said Ben, as he held his cousin's proffered hand a moment in his own. "Maybe I'll see you again some time."

"I hope so," said Charles, kindly.

A minute later Ben was on his way to take a Fourth Avenue car down town.

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 his morning's services. He determined to save one of them towards the fund which he hoped to accumulate for the object which he had in view. How much he would need he could not decide; but thought that it would be safe to set the amount at fifty dollars. This would doubtless require a considerable time to obtain. He could not expect to be so fortunate every day as he had been this morning. Some days, no doubt, he would barely earn enough to pay expenses. Still he had made a beginning, and this was something gained. It was still more encouraging that he had determined to save money, and had an inducement to do so.

As Ben rode down town in the horse-cars, he thought of the six years which he had spent as a New York street boy; and he could not help feeling that the time had been wasted, so far as any progress or improvement was concerned. Of books he knew less than when he first came to the city. He knew more of life, indeed, but not the best side of life. He had formed some bad habits, from which he would probably have been saved if he had remained at home. Ben realized all at once how much he had lost by his hasty action in leaving home. He regarded his street life with different eyes, and felt ready to give it up, as soon as he could present himself to his parents without too great a sacrifice of his pride.

At the end of half an hour, Ben found himself at the termination of the car 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 turned into the street opposite. He quickly found the number indicated, and entered Mr. Abercrombie's office. It was a handsome office on the lower floor. Two or three clerks were at work at their desks.

"So this is my brother-in-law's office," thought Ben. "It's rather better than mine."

"Well, young man, what can I do for you to-day?" inquired a clerk, in a tone 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 felt aggrieved that Ben did not show him the respect which he conceived to be his 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 in directly."

"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 me the 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.