CHAPTER V.
IN SEARCH OF A PLACE.
Ben took the early train to New York on Tuesday morning, and in duetime arrived in the city. He carried with him seventy-five dollarsout of his small patrimony. Fifty were to be deposited with Messrs.Fitch & Ferguson, as required, and the balance was to defray hisexpenses till he began to receive a salary. Ben didn't expect toneed much of it, for at the end of a week he would be paid tendollars for his services, and until then he meant to be veryeconomical.
Ben had only been in New York twice before, but he happened to knowhis way to Nassau Street, and went there at once, with his carpetbagin his hand.
As he entered Nassau Street from Printing-House
Square, a bootblack accosted him.
"How are you, country?"
"Are you very anxious to know?" asked Ben, stopping short.
"Yes."
"I'm well enough and strong enough to give you a licking."
"Good for you, country! Have you come to stay long?"
Ben laughed. He concluded not to take offense, but to answerseriously.
"That depends on whether I get the place I am after."
"What is that?" asked the bootblack, in a friendly tone.
Now, on the way to the city, Ben had overheard a conversationbetween two gentlemen, relative to certain swindlers in New York,which, for the first time, had aroused in him a suspicion thatpossibly there might be something wrong about the firm whoseadvertisement he had answered. He felt the need of an adviser, andthough his choice may be considered rather a strange one, he decidedto consult his new acquaintance, the bootblack. He briefly told himof the advertisement, and what it offered.
The bootblack surveyed him with pitying curiosity.
"You don't mean to say you swallow all that?" he said.
"Don't you think it's all right?" asked Ben anxiously.
"Look here," said the street boy, "do you think anybody's going topay a boy ten dollars a week, when there's hundreds ready to workfor three or four? Why, a man in Pearl Street advertised last weekfor a boy at three dollars, and there was a whole shoal of boys wentfor it. I was one of 'em."
"Don't you earn more than that by your business?"
"Sometimes I do, but it ain't stiddy, and I'd rather have a place."
"Why do they advertise to give ten dollars, then?" asked our hero.
"They want to get hold of your fifty dollars," said the bootblack."Them fellers is beats, that's what they are."
"What had I better do?" asked Ben, in perplexity.
"Go and see 'em, and have a talk. If they're not after your fiftydollars, you'll know what it means."
"It may be all right, after all," said Ben, who did not like to giveup hope.
"I may be General Grant," retorted the bootblack, "but if I knowmyself I ain't."
"Well, I'll go round and talk with them. Where can I meet youafterwards?"
"I'll be standin' here, if you ain't gone too long."
"What's your name?"
"Tom Cooper."
"I am Ben Stanton. Thank you for your advice."
"You're a good feller if you do come from the country. Just look outfor them fellers. Don't let 'em hook you in."
"All right, Tom."
Ben moved on, watching the numbers as he walked slowly along, tillhe came to the one mentioned in the advertisement. There was ahallway and a staircase, with a directory of persons occupyingoffices on the floors above. From this Ben ascertained that Fitch &Ferguson occupied Room 17, on the fourth floor.
"I wonder what business they are in," thought our hero as he mountedthe stairs. "They must have considerable or they wouldn't need somany boys-that is, if they are on the square."
Presently he stood in front of a door bearing the number 17.
He knocked for admittance.