Chapter X. Ben Goes to New York

Pentonville was thirty-five miles distant from New York, and the fare was a dollar, but an excursion ticket, carrying a passenger both ways, was only a dollar and a half. Ben calculated that his extra expenses, including dinner, might amount to fifty cents, thus making the cost of the trip two dollars. This sum, small as it was, appeared large both to Ben and his mother. Some doubts about the expediency of the journey suggested themselves to Mrs. Barclay.

"Do you think you had better go, Ben?" she said doubtfully. "Two dollars would buy you some new stockings and handkerchiefs."

"I will do without them, mother. Something has got to be done, or we shall be turned into the street when three months are up. Squire Davenport is a very selfish man, and he will care nothing for our comfort or convenience."

"That is true," said the widow, with a sigh. "If I thought your going to New York would do any good, I would not grudge you the money--"

"Something will turn up, or I will turn up something," said Ben confidently.

When he asked Mr. Crawford for a day off, the latter responded: "Yes, Ben, I think I can spare you, as Monday is not a very busy day. Would you be willing to do an errand for me?"

"Certainly Mr. Crawford, with pleasure."

"I need a new supply of prints. Go to Stackpole & Rogers, No. ---- White Street, and select me some attractive patterns. I shall rely upon your taste."

"Thank you, sir," said Ben, gratified by the compliment.

He received instructions as to price and quantity, which he carefully noted down.

"As it will save me a journey, not to speak of my time, I am willing to pay your fare one way."

"Thank you, sir; you are very kind."

Mr. Crawford took from the money drawer a dollar, and handed it to Ben.

"But I buy an excursion ticket, so that my fare each way will be but seventy-five cents."

"Never mind, the balance will go toward your dinner."

"There, mother, what do you say now?" said Ben, on Saturday night. "Mr. Crawford is going to pay half my expenses, and I am going to buy some goods for him."

"I am glad he reposes so much confidence in you, Ben. I hope you won't lose his money."

"Oh, I don't carry any. He buys on thirty days. All I have to do is to select the goods."

"Perhaps it is for the best that you go, after all," said Mrs. Barclay. "At any rate, I hope so."

At half-past seven o'clock on Monday morning Ben stood on the platform of the Pentonville station, awaiting the arrival of the train.

"Where are you going?" said a voice.

Ben, turning, saw that it was Tom Davenport who had spoken.