CHAPTER IX.
BESSIE BENTON.
Tom called the next day at the hospital, and left ten dollars, findingthis to be the right amount for Jacob's coffin. He took a last look atthe old man, so long his companion, and then, feeling that he could dono more, went on his way. He next went to a railroad office, onBroadway, and bought a through-ticket to Cincinnati. This was the citywhere, according to Jacob's story, his father had been in business, andhe himself had been born. His inquiries for the uncle who had defraudedhim must commence here.
Having taken his seat in the cars, he was led to make an examination ofhis pocket-book. He found it, by no means, well filled. A hundreddollars had seemed to him a good deal of money, but he had expendedhalf of it for clothes. His railway ticket, and the money he left atthe hospital, consumed thirty dollars more, and he had, therefore, buttwenty dollars left.
"That ain't much to set up as a gentleman on," said Tom to himself. "Ididn't know it cost so much to get along; I'll have to go to work aforelong."
Tom was not in the least daunted, however; he had always beenaccustomed to earn his living, and didn't doubt that he could do itnow.
He had little money, but he had his wits and two strong arms, and hethought he could keep out of the poor-house. No anxious fears for thefuture marred the pleasure which the journey afforded him. With an eyeof interest he regarded the rich and productive country through whichthe train was speeding at the rate of twenty-five miles an hour.
There is more than one route from New York to Cincinnati, a fact ofwhich Tom knew nothing, and it was only by accident that he hadselected that which led through Buffalo. He stopped over a night atthis enterprising city, and at an early hour entered the cars to go onto the chief city in Ohio. The passengers were nearly all seated. Infact, every seat was occupied, except that beside Tom, when a stout,elderly gentleman entered the car, followed by an attractive young girlof fourteen.
"There don't seem to be any seats, Bessie," he said.
"Here's one, uncle," said the young lady, indicating the seat of whichour hero occupied half.
"Is this seat engaged, young man?" asked the old gentleman.
Tom looked up, and, seeing that a pretty girl was to sit beside him,answered, with alacrity:
"No, sir."
"Then, Bessie, you may as well sit down here. I am very sorry you musttake this long journey alone. I thought, till the last moment, that Mr.Armstrong was going."
"Oh! never mind, uncle; I can get along well enough."
"But it don't seem right; I am afraid your father will blame me."
"Perhaps," said Bessie, with a little coquettish glance at Tom, whomshe privately thought a very good-looking boy; "perhaps this younggentleman will look after me."
The old gentleman looked dubious, and would have preferred a person ofmore maturity. Still, there was no choice, and he said:
"Young man, are you going to Cincinnati?"
"Yes, sir," said Tom.
"Then, if it won't be too much trouble, I will ask you to look after myniece a little. I am unable to go with her myself."
"All right, sir; I'll do it," said Tom, in a confident tone.
"There goes the bell, uncle," said Bessie. "You'd better go, or youwill be carried along with us."
The old gentleman bent over and kissed his niece. Our hero thought heshould have been willing to relieve him of the duty. The young girlbeside him looked so fresh and pretty that, though he was too young tofall in love, he certainly did feel considerable pleasure in thethought that she was to be his companion in a journey of severalhundred miles. It gave him a feeling of importance, being placed incharge of her, and he couldn't help wondering whether he would have gotthe chance if he had been dressed in his old street suit.
"There's a good deal in clo's," thought Tom, philosophically. "It makesall the difference between a young gentleman and a bootblack."
"Would you like to sit by the window?" he asked, by way of beingsociable and polite.
"Oh, no! I can see very well from here," said the young lady. "Do youcome from Buffalo?"
"No; I am from New York."
"I never was there; I should like to go very much. I have heard thatCentral Park is a beautiful place."
"Yes, it's a bully place," said Tom.
Bessie laughed.
"That's a regular boy's word," she said. "Miss Wiggins, our teacher,was always horrified when she heard any of us girls use it. I rememberone day I let it out without thinking, and she heard it. 'Miss Benton,'said she, 'never again let me hear you employ that _inelegant_expression. That a young lady _under my charge_ should, _even once_,have been guilty of such a breach of propriety, mortifies meextremely.'"
Bessie pursed up her pretty lips, and imitated the manner of the primschoolmistress, to the great amusement of our hero.
"Is that the way she talked?" he asked.
"Yes; and she glared at me through her spectacles. She looked like abeauty, with her tall bony figure, and thin face. Did you ever go toboarding-school?"
"No," said Tom; "nor to any other," he might almost have added.
"You wouldn't like it, though boys' boarding-schools may be better thangirls'. I have been two years at Miss Wiggins' boarding-school, inBuffalo. Now I'm going home, on a vacation, and I really hope papawon't send me there again."
"Do you live in Cincinnati?"
"Yes--that is, papa does. Are you going to stay there long?"
"I think I shall live there," said Tom, who fancied it would beagreeable to live in the same city with Bessie Benton.
"Oh, I hope you will! Then you could come and see us."
"That would be bully," Tom was about to say, but it occurred to himthat it would be in better taste to say: "I should like to very much."
"Have you finished your education?" asked Bessie.
"There wasn't much to finish," thought Tom, but he said, aloud:
"Maybe I'll study a little more."
"Where did you study?" asked the persevering Bessie.
"I've been to Columbia College," said Tom, after a little pause.
So he had been up to the college grounds, but I am afraid he intendedBessie to believe something else.
"Then you must know a great deal," said Bessie. "Do you like Latin andGreek very much?"
"Not _very_ much," said Tom.
"I never went farther than the Latin verbs. They're tiresome, ain'tthey?"
"I'll bet they are," said Tom, who wouldn't have known a Latin verbfrom a Greek noun.
"I suppose they come easier to boys. Were you long in college?"
"Not long."
"I suppose you were a Freshman?"
"Yes," said Tom, hazarding a guess.
"Don't the Sophomores play all sorts of tricks on the Freshmen?"
"Awful," said Tom, who found it safest to chime in with the remarks ofthe young lady.
"I had a cousin at Yale College," continued Bessie. "When he was aFreshman, the Sophomores broke into his room one night, blindfoldedhim, and carried him off somewhere. Then they made him smoke a pipe,which made him awful sick, and poured a pail of water over his head.Did they ever do such things to you?"
"No, they wouldn't dare to," said our hero.
"You couldn't help yourself."
"Yes, I could; I'd put a head on them."
"I don't know what Miss Wiggins would say if she should hear you talk.She'd have a fit."
"What did I say?" he asked, innocently.
"You said you'd _put a head_ on them."
"So I would."
"Only it is a very inelegant expression, as Miss Wiggins says."
"If you don't like it, I won't say it any more."
"Oh! I don't care," said Bessie, laughing. "You needn't be afraid I'llhave a fit. I ain't such a model of propriety as that. Perhaps I shallbe some time, when I get to be a stiff old maid like PriscillaWiggins."
"You won't be that."
"How do you know?" said Bessie, saucily.
"You don't look
like it."
"Don't I? Perhaps nobody will marry me," she said, demurely.
"If nobody else will, send for me!" said Tom, blushing immediately athis unexpected boldness.
"Am I to regard that as a proposal?" asked Bessie, her eyes sparklingwith fun.
"Yes, if you want to," said Tom, manfully.
"I'm sure I'm very much obliged," said the young lady. "I won't forgetit, and, if _nobody else_ will have me, I'll send for you."
"She's a trump," he thought, but fortunately didn't make use of a wordwhich would have been highly objectionable to Miss Wiggins.