CHAPTER XX.
HOW ALL CAME RIGHT IN THE MORNING.
It is quite possible that the pickpocket would have made good hisescape, if he had not, unluckily for himself, run into anotherpoliceman.
"Beg your pardon," he said, hurriedly.
"Stop a minute," said the officer, detaining him by the arm, for hisappearance and haste inspired suspicion. He was bare-headed, for his hathad fallen off, and he had not deemed it prudent to stop long enough topick it up.
"I'm in a great hurry," panted the thief. "My youngest child is in afit, and I am running for a physician."
This explanation seemed plausible, and the policeman, who was himselfthe father of a family, was on the point of releasing him, when thefirst officer came up.
"Hold on to him," he said; "he's just broken away from me."
"That's it, is it?" said the second policeman. "He told me he was aftera doctor for his youngest child."
"I think he'll need a doctor himself," said the first, "if he triesanother of his games. You didn't stop to say good-by, my man."
"I told you I had an important engagement," said the pickpocket,sulkily,--"one that I cared more about than the money. Where's the boy?"
"I had to leave him to go after you."
"That's a pretty way to manage; you let the thief go in order to chasehis victim."
"You're an able-bodied victim," said the policeman, laughing.
"Where are you taking me?"
"I'm going back for the boy. He said he'd wait till I returned."
"Are you green enough to think you'll find him?" sneered the man incharge.
"Perhaps not; but I shouldn't be surprised if I did. If I guess right,he'll find it worth his while to keep his promise."
When they returned to the place where the thief had first effected hisescape, our hero was found quietly sitting on a wooden step.
"So you've got him," said Ben, advancing to meet the officer withevident satisfaction.
"He's got you too," growled the pickpocket. "Why didn't you run away,you little fool?"
"I didn't have anything to run for," answered Ben. "Besides, I want mymoney back."
"Then you'll have to go with me to the station-house," said the officer.
"I wish I could go to Mr. Abercrombie's office first to tell Mr. Sampsonwhat's happened."
"I can't let you do that; but you may write a letter from thestation-house."
"All right," said Ben, cheerfully; and he voluntarily placed himself onthe other side of the officer, and accompanied him to the station-house.
"I thought you was guilty at first," said the officer; "but I guess yourstory is correct. If it isn't, you're about the coolest chap I eversaw, and I've seen some cool ones in my day."
"It's just as I said," said Ben. "It'll all come right in the morning."
They soon reached the station-house. Ben obtained the privilege ofwriting a letter to Mr. Sampson, for which the officer undertook toprocure a messenger. In fact he began to feel quite interested for ourhero, feeling fully convinced that the other party was the realoffender.
Ben found some difficulty in writing his letter. When he first came tothe city, he could have written one with considerable ease, but he hadscarcely touched a pen, or formed a letter, for six years, and of coursethis made an important difference. However he finally managed to writethese few lines with a lead-pencil:--
"MR. SAMPSON: I am sory I can't cary that leter til to-morrow; but it was took from my pokit by a thefe wen I was ridin' in the cars, and as he sed I took it from him, the 'copp' has brort us both to the stashun-house, whare I hope you wil come and tel them how it was, and that you give me the leter to cary, for the other man says it is his The 'copp' took the leter
"BEN HOOPER."
It will be observed that Ben's spelling had suffered; but this will notexcite surprise, considering how long it was since he had attendedschool. It will also be noticed that he did not sign his real name, butused the same which he had communicated to Charles Marston. More thanever, till he was out of his present difficulty, he desired to concealhis identity from his relations.
Meanwhile, Mr. Sampson was busily engaged in his office in Wall Street.It may as well be explained here that he was the junior partner of Mr.Abercrombie. Occasionally he paused in his business to wonder whether hehad done well to expose a ragged street boy to such a temptation; but hewas a large-hearted man, inclined to think well of his fellow-men, andthough in his business life he had seen a good deal that was mean andselfish in the conduct of others, he had never lost his confidence inhuman nature, and never would. It is better to have such a disposition,even if it does expose the possessor to being imposed upon at times,than to regard everybody with distrust and suspicion. At any rate itpromotes happiness, and conciliates good-will, and these will offset anoccasional deception.
An hour had passed, when a boy presented himself at Mr. Abercrombie'soffice. It was a newsboy, who had been intrusted with Ben's letter.
"This is for Mr. Sampson," he said, looking around him on entering.
"Another of Mr. Sampson's friends," sneered Granby, in a tone which hetook care should be too low to come to that gentleman's ears.
"My name is Sampson," said the owner of that name. "Who is your letterfrom?"
"It's from Ben."
"And who is Ben?" asked Mr. Sampson, not much enlightened.
"It's Ben, the baggage-smasher."
"Give it to me," said the gentleman, conjecturing rightly that it washis messenger who was meant.
He ran his eye rapidly over the paper, or, I should say, as rapidly asthe character of Ben's writing would permit.
"Do you come from the station-house?" he asked, looking up.
"Yes, sir."
"Which station-house is it?"
"In Leonard Street."
"Very well. Go back and tell the boy that I will call this afternoon. Iwill also give you a line to a house on Madison Avenue. Can you go rightup there, calling at the station-house on the way?"
"Yes, sir."
"Very well. Here is something for your trouble."
The boy pocketed with satisfaction the money proffered him, and took theletter which Mr. Sampson hastily wrote. It was to this effect:--
"MY DEAR MRS. ABERCROMBIE: I received your note, and despatched the money which you desired by a messenger; but I have just learned that his pocket was picked on the horse-cars. I cannot spare one of my clerks just now, but at one o'clock will send one up with the money, hoping that he may have better fortune than the first messenger, and that you will not be seriously inconvenienced by the delay.
"Yours truly,
"HENRY SAMPSON."
Then he dismissed the matter from his mind until afternoon, when, theoffice having closed, he made his way to the Leonard Streetstation-house, where he was speedily admitted to see Ben.
"I'm glad you've come, Mr. Sampson," said our hero, eagerly. "I hope youdon't think I was to blame about the letter."
"Tell me how it was, my lad," said Mr. Sampson, kindly. "I dare say youcan give me a satisfactory explanation."
Ben felt grateful for the kindness of his tone. He saw that he was notcondemned unheard, but had a chance of clearing himself.
He explained, briefly, how it occurred. Of course it is unnecessary togive his account, for we know all about it already.
"I believe you," said Mr. Sampson, in a friendly tone. "The only fault Ihave to find with you is that you might have been more careful inguarding your pockets."
"That's so," said Ben; "but I don't often carry anything that's worthstealing."
"No, I suppose not," said Mr. Sampson, smiling. "Well, it appears thatno serious loss has occurred. The money will be recovered, as it is inthe hands of the authorities. As to the delay, that is merely aninconvenience; but the most serious inconvenience falls upon you, inyour being brought here."
"I don't mind that as long as the money is safe," said Ben. "It'll allbe right in the morning."
"I see you are a philosopher. I see your face is swelled. You must havegot a blow."
"Yes," said Ben; "the chap that took my letter left me something toremember him by."
"I shall try to make it up to you," said Mr. Sampson. "I can't stop anylonger, but I will be present at your trial, and my testimony willundoubtedly clear you."
He took his leave, leaving Ben considerably more cheerful than before. Astation-house is not a very agreeable place of detention; but then Benwas not accustomed to luxury, and the absence of comfort did nottrouble him much. He cared more for the loss of his liberty, finding thenarrow cell somewhat too restricted for enjoyment. However, he consoledhimself by reflecting, to use his favorite phrase, that it would "all beright in the morning."
It will not be necessary to give a circumstantial account of Ben'strial. Mr. Sampson was faithful to his promise, and presented himself,somewhat to his personal inconvenience, at the early hour assigned fortrial. His testimony was brief and explicit, and cleared Ben. The realpickpocket, however, being recognized by the judge as one who had beenup before him some months before, charged with a similar offence, wassentenced to a term of imprisonment, considerably to hisdissatisfaction.
Ben left the court-room well pleased with the result. His innocence hadbeen established, and he had proved that he could be trusted, or rather,he had not proved faithless to his trust, and he felt that with hispresent plans and hopes he could not afford to lose his character forhonesty. He knew that he had plenty of faults, but at any rate he wasnot a thief.
While he stood on the steps of the Tombs, in which the trial had takenplace, Mr. Sampson advanced towards him, and touched him on theshoulder.
"Well, my lad," he said, in a friendly manner, "so you're all right oncemore?"
"Yes," said Ben; "I knew it would all be right in the morning."
"I owe you something for the inconvenience you have suffered while in myemploy. Here is a ten-dollar bill. I hope you will save it till you needit, and won't spend it foolishly."
"Thank you," said Ben, joyfully. "I'll put it in the bank."
"That will be a good plan. Good-morning; when you need a friend, youwill know where to find me."
He shook Ben's hand in a friendly way and left him.
"He's a trump," thought Ben. "If my father'd treated me like that, I'dnever have wanted to run away from home."