CHAPTER XXI

CHAPTER XXI“LAY LOW!”

The clock in the tower of the City Hall solemnly boomed the hour of midnight. Damietta lay wrapped in slumber—that is, so far as the majority of her citizens were concerned. Her guardians of the peace, as a rule, were wide awake, and the dozens stationed within the vicinity of her three national banks were particularly so.

Ben Mayberry counted the strokes of the iron tongue, and reflected that Thursday was gone, and Friday had begun. As yet nothing had been seen or heard to indicate that anything unlawful was contemplated in this immediate neighborhood. More than once he was so well convinced that my view of the case was correct, that he was on the point of startinghomeward, but he checked himself and stayed.

At such a time the minutes drag with exceeding slowness, and it seemed to Ben that fully a couple of hours had gone by, when the huge clock struck one. During the interval a number of pedestrians had passed, and a party of roystering youths rode by in a carriage, each one singing independently of the other, and in a loud, unsteady voice, but nothing yet had occurred on which to hang a suspicion.

The peculiar, ringing, wave-like tones, which are heard a few minutes after the striking of a large bell, were still lingering in the air and gradually dying out, when one of the policemen gave a guarded whistle, which was a signal for the others to “lay low,” or in better English, to keep themselves unusually wide awake.

A minute after two men were heard approaching, and became dimly visible in the partial illumination of the street. It so happenedthat they walked directly by where Ben was standing. They did not notice him, though he plainly saw them. They were of large frame, and walked with a slight unsteadiness, as though under the influence of liquor.

“There’s the bank,” said one, in an undertone, as though he was imparting a momentous secret to the other.

“That’s so; if we could only get in, knock the watchman on the head, and kick in the door of the safe, we would make a good haul.”

“Suppose we try it, Jack——”

For more than two hours a burly watchman had been hidden close at hand, without Ben suspecting his presence. The last sentence was in the mouth of the speaker when this policeman sprang upon the amazed strangers, who were discussing the burglary of the bank.

He must have been surcharged with faithfulness, for, instead of waiting until an overt act was committed, as all had been instructed to do, he rushed upon the men in a burst of enthusiasmwhich knew no restraint and passed all bounds.

“Yes, you’ll rob the bank, will you?” he shouted, swinging his club aloft and bringing it down on the heads of the others. “I’ll show you—we’ve been watching you. We know you. You’re a fine set of cracksmen. You think Damietta is a country town, but you’ll learn different——”

These vigorous observations were punctuated with equally vigorous whacks of the club, which it seemed must crack the skulls of the men, and in all probability would have done so had they not risen to the exigencies of the case and turned upon the policeman with remarkable promptitude.

Both of them were powerful, and finding themselves assailed in this fashion, one knocked the officer half-way across the street, wrenched his club from his grasp, and began laying it over his head. The stricken guardian of the peace shouted for help, and tried desperately to draw his revolver. Finally he got it out, but before he could use it that also was taken from him, and it looked as though little would be left of him.

THE POLICEMAN BROUGHT HIS CLUB DOWN ON THE HEADS OF THEOTHERS.—P. 144.

THE POLICEMAN BROUGHT HIS CLUB DOWN ON THE HEADS OF THEOTHERS.—P. 144.

But the other policemen came running up, and took a hand in the fracas. While some went for the one who was belaboring the representative of the law, others made for the second burglar. But he was more muscular, if possible, than his friend, and he laid about him with such vigor that three officers were prostrated before he could be secured. Calling to his friend, the two gave themselves up, demanding to know why peaceable citizens should be clubbed when quietly walking along the street.

“We had not uttered a disrespectful word,” said the first, “but were joking together, when that brass-buttoned idiot pounced upon us. We simply defended ourselves, as every man has a right to do, and we don’t propose to let the matter rest here.”

“He lies!” shouted the officer who had fared so ill, as he came forward, his hat off, and his clothing covered with dust; “he was arranging to rob the bank; they are the burglars that we’ve been watching for days; I know ’em all right.”

“We shall have to take you along,” said the chief, who saw that matters were considerably mixed.

At this point Ben thought it was his duty to interfere.

“If you will permit me, I am satisfied that some mistake has been made. These gentlemen did nothing——”

“He’s one of ’em,” broke in the first officer, whose wrath could not be appeased; “he’s been their dummy; he was on the lookout to give ’em warning; run him in, too.”

Despite Ben Mayberry’s protests, he was forced to go with the prisoners; but on the way to the lock-up he was recognized by several officers, including the chief, who ordered his release,Ben promising to appear in the morning at the hearing.

On the morrow several important facts came to light. The two individuals who had been so roughly used were honest countrymen, whose references to the robbery of the bank were purely in jest—such a project as burglary never entering their thoughts.

The policeman who assailed them made a humble apology, and they agreed to let the matter drop.

Another fact that was established was that the policemen of Damietta were very much like those of other cities.

The third truth was, that no burglary took place on Thursday night or Friday morning, and everything was as quiet as the surface of a summer mill-pond, with the single exception of the incident just narrated.

CHAPTER XXIITHE BATTLE OF LIFE

After all the elaborate preparations for the capture of the burglars, the whole business had fallen so flat that the officers of the law themselves laughed at the farcical termination. Nothing criminal was attempted, and Damietta never was more peaceful in all its history than it was during the many weeks and months which followed.

And yet, in spite of all this, there could be no question that such a burglarious scheme at one time was contemplated. The cipher telegrams, and the surveillance to which Ben Mayberry was subjected, together with the attempted assault upon him, made this too manifest to be disputed.

“They simply discovered the preparationsmade by the authorities,” I said to Ben, “and they had prudence enough to withdraw.”

“Do you believe they have given it up altogether?”

“I doubt it. They have simply deferred the execution until some safer time. We must continue to be on the lookout for telegrams in cipher. These gentry have evil designs upon Damietta, as will be proven before we are many years older.”

When Ben Mayberry reached the age of fifteen, he attained an important epoch in his life. He had long been one of the most skillful operators in the district, being remarkably quick and accurate.

I have told enough to prove his courteous disposition toward all who entered our office. The pretended Mr. Jones, who acted the part of the ignorant farmer, was, as I have stated, a high official of the company, who took odd means to test the character and skill of our employees. The test in the case of young Mayberryproved most satisfactory in every respect.

At my request, I was transferred to one of the cities in the Eastern States, where the climate agreed better with me. I was given charge of an important office, an advance made in my wages, and everything was done to make the change agreeable. Such being the fact, it is no assumption on my part to say that my administration of the exacting duties in Damietta had been fully appreciated by my superior officers.

Ben Mayberry was made manager of the office in his native city at a salary of seventy-five dollars per month. This statement the reader may doubt, for I am quite certain that no telegraphist of his age was ever given such an important charge, nor is anyone so young paid such a liberal salary; but, did I feel at liberty to do so, I could locate Ben Mayberry so closely that all skeptics could ascertain the facts, in a brief time, precisely as I have given them.

We have many office managers, in different parts of the country, who lack several years of their majority; but, as a rule, their stations are not very important, and their pay is nothing like what Ben received. There were exceptional circumstances in his case. He was unusually bright, he was very attentive, he was courteous, cheerful, and never shirked work. He was popular with our patrons, and much of the increase in the business of the Damietta office was due to Ben alone. This became known to those above him, and they felt that an unusual promotion on his part would not only be a just recognition of his ability and devotion, but would do much to stimulate others to imitate the good example set by the boy.

In addition to all this, it cannot be denied that fortune favored Ben in a marked degree. The fact that he was swept down the river in the darkness and tempest, while trying to deliver a telegram for a messenger who was ill, and that he saved the life of a little girl, couldnot fail to operate strongly to his benefit. But he would have reached the end all the same, without these aids, just as you, my young friend, may attain the topmost round by climbing up, up, up, step after step, step after step.

There is no cup in this life without some drops of bitterness, and, despite the promotion of Ben, which he fully appreciated, he was cast down by another circumstance, which troubled him more than he would admit to his closest friends.

He had not seen sweet Dolly Willard since the grand children’s party at Mr. Grandin’s, more than two years previous. She had written him regularly every week for months, and he had been equally prompt in answering. Ben wrote a beautiful hand, and his missives to Dolly were long and affectionate. She would have visited her cousins in Damietta, had they not made a visit to Europe, which shut off the possibility of her doing so for some time to come.

Ben felt that under the circumstances it was hardly the thing for him to make a call upon Dolly in New York, though she invited him to do so.

But during the very week that Ben was given charge of the Damietta office, the mail failed to bring the usual letter from Dolly. He waited impatiently for several days and then wrote to her. There was no response to this, and he felt resentful. He held out for a fortnight, and then was so worried that he was forced to write again. But this was equally fruitless of results, and he became angry.

“She is getting to be quite a large girl; her folks are wealthy, and she has begun to realize that I am nothing but a poor telegraphist. Her folks have told her she must look higher, and she has come to that same mind herself. Ah, well; let it be so!”

That was expressive of his feelings. Sometimes Ben felt like rebelling against his fate. He had applied himself hard for years; he possessedan excellent education; he held a prominent position in the greatest telegraph company of the country, with a prospect of further advancement before him, and yet, because he was poor, he was looked down upon by those who were his inferiors in everything except the single one of wealth.

“It is a great disappointment,” he sometimes murmured, “but I am young; most folks would laugh that one of my age should take such a fancy to a little girl like Dolly, and they would say I am certain to get over it very soon. And just there is where they would all make a great mistake.”

And Ben Mayberry was right on that point.

CHAPTER XXIIIFACE TO FACE

Ben Mayberry was sitting at his desk in the Damietta office, one beautiful day in Indian summer, attentive as ever to his duties, when a carriage drove up to the door containing a young gentleman and a lady. The former sprang lightly out and ran into the office, after the manner of one who was in a hurry to send an important telegram.

Suddenly, while Ben was looking at the youth he recognized him as Rutherford Richmond, with whom he had had several important meetings.

“Why, Rutherford, you have grown so much I didn’t recognize you; I am glad to see you; how have you been?”

Ben reached his hand over the counter as he greeted the young man, but the latter affected not to hear him. Turning to the desk, he wrote out a message with great rapidity, wheeled about, and, without the slightest evidence of ever having seen Ben, handed him the paper and ordered the dispatch to be sent to New York.

This was the telegram:

“Richard Willard, No.— Avenue, New York:“Dolly and I reached here safe. Big party at Grandin’s to-morrow; sure of grand time. Will take good care of Dolly.“Rutherford Richmond.”

“Richard Willard, No.— Avenue, New York:

“Richard Willard, No.— Avenue, New York:

“Dolly and I reached here safe. Big party at Grandin’s to-morrow; sure of grand time. Will take good care of Dolly.

“Rutherford Richmond.”

“Rutherford Richmond.”

As the writer hurried out the door, Ben followed him with his eyes. There, in a handsome, single-seated carriage, sat a beautiful miss of thirteen or fourteen, elegantly dressed and looking straight toward him. It was Dolly Willard, more enchanting than ever, her eyesluminous with health and her cheeks as pink and rosy as the delicate tint of the coral.

Ben was too shocked to salute her, and probably it was as well he did not do so, for she simply stared with scarcely less directness than did her companion.

Only by the most supreme exertion was the youth enabled to choke down his rebellious emotions, so that none in the office noticed his excitement.

It was the same on the morrow, and, as if the fates had combined to crush him in absolute wretchedness, he encountered Rutherford and Dolly riding out as he was making his way homeward. He affected not to see them, but he could not avoid furtively watching Dolly, who certainly was the most winsome-looking young miss he had ever seen.

“To-night another party is given by the Grandins. Their girls are ladies, and they treated me well when I was there more thantwo years ago, but in this matter Dolly has had all to say—that is, she and Rutherford. Well, if she is that sort of girl, I don’t want anything to do with her.”

That night, in spite of himself, Ben could not stay at home; he strolled along, a prey to his bitter thoughts, and mechanically walked in the direction of the splendid grounds of the wealthy jeweler, Mr. Grandin. The sound of music from within aroused him.

He saw the lights glimmering through the beautiful shade trees, and could catch sight of the gayly-dressed figures flitting by the open windows.

“I can’t feel any worse,” muttered Ben, walking through the open gate, confident that he would attract no special attention.

He sauntered up the graveled walk, turning off to the right and moving slowly along, with his gaze fixed upon the gay lads and lasses within, who seemed to be in the very height of enjoyment.

At that instant someone caught his arm, and Ben turned with an apology for his forgetfulness.

“I beg pardon, but I was so interested in the scene that I did not notice where I stepped——”

He paused, fairly gasping for breath, for there stood Dolly Willard at his side, with her hand upon his arm. The light streaming from the windows fell upon her charming face, on which there was an expression that young Mayberry did not understand.

“Ben,” said she, in a voice that sounded unnatural, “I’ve got something I want to say to you.”

“And I have a good deal that I would like to say to you,” he retorted, firing up, now that the little empress stood before him.

CHAPTER XXIVSTARTLING DISCOVERIES

“You say you have something to speak about,” added the boy, looking into the enchanting face, as it reflected the light from the windows near at hand; “I have only to suggest that it took you a good time to find it out.”

“It is not I, but you who are to blame.”

“Possibly I am to be blamed for being born poor while you are rich; but I have paid for my mistake, and it is now too late to correct it.”

The conversation had reached this point when the two seemed to conclude it was altogether too public to be in good taste. Several persons, standing near, stepped a little closer, so as to catch every word.

“It is so warm in there,” said Dolly; “evenwith the windows open, that I came outdoors to get the fresh air. Aunt Maggie put my shawl about my shoulders so that I wouldn’t take cold. Now, Ben, if you will walk with me to the summer-house yonder, we can sit down by ourselves, finish our talk, and then part forever.”

The last expression sent a pang to the boy’s heart, but he did not allow her to see it. He followed her a short distance to one of the romantic little lattice-work structures which Mr. Grandin had placed on his grounds.

A few rays of silvery moonlight penetrated the leafy shelter, so the two were not in complete darkness when they sat down on the rustic seat.

“I am ready to listen to you,” said Ben in his most frigid voice, the two being separated by a space of several feet.

“In the first place, if you thought so lightly of me, you never should have told me different nor asked me to correspond with you.”

“I do not understand you.”

“How can you help understanding me?”

“Because I see no reason for your words. I thought all the world of you; the greatest pleasure of my life was to write to you and to receive your letters in return. All at once you stopped writing; I sent you three letters, and you paid no attention——”

“Ben, how dare you! It was you who laughed at my letters, and took no notice of them, except to show them to your friends and ridicule what I put on paper.”

Ben Mayberry sprang to his feet. Like a flash it came upon him that some dreadful misunderstanding had been brought about by other parties, for which Dolly was not to blame.

“Tell me the whole story, Dolly,” he said in a kinder voice than he had used since they met, as he resumed his seat.

“Well,” said she, beginning to feel the same suspicion that thrilled her companion, “there is a good deal to say, but I will make it short.You know my father and Mr. Grandin are cousins, so the girls are really my second cousins. Rutherford Richmond is the son of an old friend of father, who lives in Boston. Father has a large insurance office, and he agreed to take Rutherford until he learned the business, so as to take charge of the same kind of office in Boston, which his father is going to fix up for him. That’s how it is Rutherford has been living with us for some months.

“Well, a good while ago, I wrote you a letter, begging you to come and visit me; father said I might do so. You didn’t accept the invitation. I wrote you again and got no answer to it; I was frightened, and thought maybe you were ill, and wrote once more, but there was no answer to it. I would have sent a letter to Cousin Jane to find out about you, but she was in Europe. After a while I sent a fourth letter, very long, and full of things which I wouldn’t have anyone else know for the world. I sent——”

“Who by?”

“Rutherford took it and several other letters, and placed them in the mail-box at father’s office, so they were sure to go. But there was no answer to the last, and then I gave up. I felt awful bad; but I was nearly wild when Rutherford came to me one day and said he had something which he thought he ought to tell me. When he said it was about you, I was dreadfully excited. He told me that he had made the acquaintance of a young man from Damietta, who was a close friend of yours. That young person, whose name Rutherford would not give, said that you showed all my letters to him and several others, and made fun of them. I wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t proved what he said?”

“How did he prove it?”

“By repeating what I had written; he gave me half of what was in that last letter, which he said was repeated to him by the person you told. He had them so exactly that my faceburned like fire, and I was never so angry in all my life. I knew you must have done what Rutherford said, for how could he know what I had written you?”

“He knew it by opening your letter, reading the contents, and then destroying it. That letter, Dolly, I never saw, nor did I see the three which preceded it. I also sent you three letters, of which I never heard.”

Now that the way was opened, full explanations quickly followed. There could be no earthly doubt that the last three letters sent by Ben Mayberry to Dolly Willard had been intercepted by Rutherford Richmond, who had not hesitated to do the same with those sent by Dolly, though most probably he had simply destroyed the three, and read only the last.

“You risked your life to save mine and that of my mother,” she said in a tremulous voice, “and it was an awful thing for you to believe I could ever fail to think more of you than of anyone else in the world.”

“I guess I shall have to own up,” laughed the happy Ben; “but we were both placed in a false position.”

“But we shall never be again——”

“Dolly, Dolly! Where are you?”

The cries came from a gay party of misses who came trooping forth to look for the belle, whose absence so long from her friends had attracted inquiry.

She sprang up.

“Good-by, Ben; I must go.”

She caught his hand and returned the pressure, then hurried out and met her young friends, who escorted her back to the house, while Ben quietly departed without attracting attention.

It was past midnight, but Ben thought nothing of time. He had turned off from the street and entered the main business avenue of Damietta.

Just as he came opposite the large jewelry establishment of Mr. Grandin he glancedthrough the plate-glass window. A light was burning dimly in the rear of the store, as was the custom with many of the merchants in the city, but at the instant of looking Ben saw something like a shadow flit by the light. He looked again, and was certain that another movement had taken place, though he could not define its character.

He paused only an instant, when he walked on again; but in that instant he became convinced that burglars were operating in the jewelry establishment of Mr. Grandin.

He walked slowly forward, humming to himself, as was his custom, but wide awake and alert. Fifty feet further, he detected the shadowy figure of a man standing in one of the adjoining doorways. Ben pretended not to see him, and continued humming gayly to himself.

Ben sauntered along in the same aimless fashion until sure he was not watched, when he turned and made his way directly to the policeoffice. The chief was there and Ben quickly told him everything he knew.

“Those are the parties who arranged to rob the bank year before last,” said the chief, “but found out they were suspected.”

“They certainly managed it well this time; that is, so far, for there hasn’t a single cipher telegram passed through our office since.”

“Well, we are ready to move,” said the chief, as he observed that four of his best officers were awaiting his orders.

CHAPTER XXVIN THE NICK OF TIME

Ben would have liked to accompany the officers, but that would have been unprofessional on their part, and he did not make the request. He waited until they had been gone several minutes, when he slipped out and passed down the street, determined to see what was to be seen.

The chief managed the delicate and dangerous business with great skill.

The first notice the burglars had of danger was from the rear. They were down behind a screen of dark muslin they had put up, carefully working at the safe, which contained diamonds and jewelry of immense value. They had already drilled a considerable distance intothe chilled iron, when the “Philistines descended upon them.”

The burglars sprang up like tigers, but they were caught so fairly that they were borne to the floor and handcuffs clicked around their wrists in a twinkling. There were only two, and the three policemen mastered them without difficulty.

But there were two others on the street outside, and they were quick to discover what was going on within. One of these was Dandy Sam, who ran forward and peered through the front window. His companion was at his elbow, and they instantly saw that something was wrong.

They turned to flee, when they found themselves face to face with the chief and his aid.

“Hold up your hands!” commanded the chief, leveling his pistol at the villains.

One of them complied, but Dandy Sam fired point-blank at the chief, whirled on his heel, and ran like a deer down the street. The chiefwas not touched, and pistol in hand he started after the criminal, leaving his aid to attend to the second one.

Dandy Sam was fleet of foot and was gaining on his pursuer, when he came face to face with Ben Mayberry, who was hurrying toward the scene of the burglary with a view of seeing how it terminated.

The two encountered where the lamp-light showed the face of each. Ben knew the scamp on the instant, from the description given him, and the sight of the flying rascal told him the truth.

Ben had his pistol in his pocket, but he could not bear the thought of shooting a person, especially when there was a possible doubt of the necessity.

Ben compromised matters by darting into the road, where he caught up a stone weighing fully a pound.

The chief was some distance away shouting “Stop thief!” and firing his pistol over hishead, so there could be no doubt that Dandy Sam was “wanted.”

Ben Mayberry stood about as far from the fugitive as the space between first and second base—thirty yards—when the stone left his hand like a thunderbolt. As before, it sped true to its aim, but struck higher than then, sending the scoundrel forward on his face, and stunning him; only for a minute or so, but this was sufficient.

While he was in the act of climbing to his feet again, the chief dropped upon him; there was a click, and Dandy Sam was at the end of his career of crime, at least for a considerable time to come.

The chief started for the station-house with his man, whom he watched closely despite the stunning blow he had received.

A few minutes later the other three officers came in with their prisoners, who were caught in the very act of committing burglary.

The aid was absent so long that the chief feltuneasy, and started out in quest of him, but at that moment he appeared with his man.

“He went peaceably enough for a while,” explained the aid, “and then he tried to bribe me to let him go. When he found that wouldn’t work he became ugly, and I had to use my club, but he ain’t hurt much.”

His face was bleeding, but Ben Mayberry, with a shock, recognized the prisoner as G. R. Burkhill, the uncle of Dolly Willard.

The capture of the burglars made great excitement in Damietta, and the part taken by Ben Mayberry once more placed his name in everyone’s mouth. It was he who discovered the criminals, and was the direct means of securing the desperado, Dandy Sam, the leader of the notorious gang.

It was a great shock to all, except a few, to find that Burkhill, the brother-in-law of Dolly Willard’s father, was also one of the guilty ones. But there were others (and among themMr. Willard and Mr. Grandin) who were not surprised in the least. The facts in this singular affair, as they ultimately came to light, were as follows:

George R. Burkhill was the black sheep in a most estimable family, of which Mrs. Willard, the mother of Dolly, was a member. She was the sister of Burkhill, and the only one who clung to the bad brother, pronounced incorrigible by everyone else, even when a small boy. She believed there was some good in him, and, in the face of protests, she labored to bring him to a sense of right. It was through her influence that he was saved from condign punishment for more than one serious offense.

All four of the burglars were duly tried, found guilty, and sentenced to the penitentiary for ten years. Rather curiously, both Dandy Sam and Burkhill died during the third year of their imprisonment, and it is safe to say the world was the gainer thereby.

Some few days after the capture of the burglars,came a glowing letter from Dolly, who had gone home to New York, in which she said that her father insisted that Ben should come and make them a visit, and would accept no excuse for refusing.

“I’ll go this time!” exclaimed Ben, knowing he would have no trouble in obtaining permission to take a brief vacation.

And go he did.

CHAPTER XXVICONCLUSION

In closing the history of Ben Mayberry, the telegraph messenger boy, it seems to me I can do no better than by using the words of the hero himself. The following letter I received only a few days since. It is the last which has come to hand from Ben, who writes me regularly, as he has done ever since I was transferred from the office in Damietta. I should add that the date of the letter is nine years subsequent to that of his visit to the metropolis as the guest of Mr. James Willard:

“My Dear Mr. Melville,—I am now in my twenty-fifth year. In looking back it seems only a few years ago that you called me to you, on the street of my native city, and offeredto make me general utility boy in the telegraph office of Damietta. My mother and I were nearly starving at the time, and no kindness could have been more appropriate than yours, nor could anyone have shown greater tact and wisdom in cultivating the good instincts of a ragged urchin, who, otherwise, was likely to go to ruin.“You awakened my ambition and incited me to study; you impressed upon me the beauty and truth of the declaration that there is no royal road to learning; that if I expected to attain success in any walk of life it could only be done by hard, unremitting, patient work. There are many rounds to the ladder, and each must climb them one by one.“Good fortune attended me in every respect. It was the providence of God which saved me and enabled me to help save sweet Dolly when the bridge went down in the storm and darkness, and her mother was lost; yet, but for my determination to do my best at all times, andnever to give up so long as I could struggle, I must have succumbed.“It was extremely fortunate that I saw the burglars at work in the jewelry establishment of Mr. Grandin on that memorable night in Damietta. The same stroke of fortune might have fallen to any boy, but it was incomplete until I was able to bring the leader to the ground with the stone which I hurled at him.“It may be said that all these are but mere incidents of my history, and possibly I may have magnified their importance; but, though my progress was rapid, it never could have carried me successfully along without the regular, systematic, hard work with which I employed my spare hours, when not devoted to exercise. In this world that which wins, is work, work, work!“When I was fifteen years old, I was made the manager of the office in Damietta, with a larger salary than I was entitled to. Three years later, the partiality of Mr. Musgravemade me assistant superintendent, and now I have been general superintendent of the district for more than two years, with a handsome salary, which enables me to give my dear mother comforts and elegances of which the good lady never dreamed.“I married Dolly shortly after my promotion to the office of general superintendent, and the little fellow that is learning to lisp ‘papa,’ you know, has been named after you, my old, true, and invaluable friend, to whose counsel and kindness I feel I am so much indebted.“Dolly sits at my elbow and continually reminds me that I must insist that you come down and spend Christmas with us. A chair and plate will be placed at the table for you, and you must allow nothing less than Providence itself to keep you away.“As ever,“Your devoted friend,“Ben.”

“My Dear Mr. Melville,—I am now in my twenty-fifth year. In looking back it seems only a few years ago that you called me to you, on the street of my native city, and offeredto make me general utility boy in the telegraph office of Damietta. My mother and I were nearly starving at the time, and no kindness could have been more appropriate than yours, nor could anyone have shown greater tact and wisdom in cultivating the good instincts of a ragged urchin, who, otherwise, was likely to go to ruin.

“You awakened my ambition and incited me to study; you impressed upon me the beauty and truth of the declaration that there is no royal road to learning; that if I expected to attain success in any walk of life it could only be done by hard, unremitting, patient work. There are many rounds to the ladder, and each must climb them one by one.

“Good fortune attended me in every respect. It was the providence of God which saved me and enabled me to help save sweet Dolly when the bridge went down in the storm and darkness, and her mother was lost; yet, but for my determination to do my best at all times, andnever to give up so long as I could struggle, I must have succumbed.

“It was extremely fortunate that I saw the burglars at work in the jewelry establishment of Mr. Grandin on that memorable night in Damietta. The same stroke of fortune might have fallen to any boy, but it was incomplete until I was able to bring the leader to the ground with the stone which I hurled at him.

“It may be said that all these are but mere incidents of my history, and possibly I may have magnified their importance; but, though my progress was rapid, it never could have carried me successfully along without the regular, systematic, hard work with which I employed my spare hours, when not devoted to exercise. In this world that which wins, is work, work, work!

“When I was fifteen years old, I was made the manager of the office in Damietta, with a larger salary than I was entitled to. Three years later, the partiality of Mr. Musgravemade me assistant superintendent, and now I have been general superintendent of the district for more than two years, with a handsome salary, which enables me to give my dear mother comforts and elegances of which the good lady never dreamed.

“I married Dolly shortly after my promotion to the office of general superintendent, and the little fellow that is learning to lisp ‘papa,’ you know, has been named after you, my old, true, and invaluable friend, to whose counsel and kindness I feel I am so much indebted.

“Dolly sits at my elbow and continually reminds me that I must insist that you come down and spend Christmas with us. A chair and plate will be placed at the table for you, and you must allow nothing less than Providence itself to keep you away.

“As ever,“Your devoted friend,“Ben.”

“As ever,

“Your devoted friend,

“Ben.”

THE END

THE END

THE FRONTIER BOYSBy Capt. Wyn. Roosevelt.

THE FRONTIER BOYS

By Capt. Wyn. Roosevelt.

This noted scout and author, known to every plainsman, has lived a life of stirring adventure. In boyhood, in the early days, he traveled with comrades the overland route to the West,—a trip of thrilling experiences, unceasing hardships and trials that would have daunted a heart less brave. His life has been spent in the companionship of the typically brave adventurers, gold seekers, cowboys and ranchmen of our great West. He has lived with more than one Indian tribe, took part in a revolution at Hawaii and was captured in turn by pirates and cannibals. He writes in a way sure to win the heart of every boy.

Frontier boys on the overland trail.Frontier boys in Colorado, or captured by Indians.Frontier boys in the Grand Canyon, or a search for treasure.Frontier boys in Mexico, or Mystery Mountain.

Frontier boys on the overland trail.

Frontier boys in Colorado, or captured by Indians.

Frontier boys in the Grand Canyon, or a search for treasure.

Frontier boys in Mexico, or Mystery Mountain.

Finely illustrated. Cloth, 12mo. Attractive cover design. Price 60c per volume.

CHATTERTON-PECK CO.New York

CHATTERTON-PECK CO.

New York

THE COMRADES SERIES

THE COMRADES SERIES

By Ralph Victor. This writer of boys’ books has shown by his magazine work and experience that this series will be without question the greatest seller of any books for boys yet published; full of action from start to finish. Cloth, 12mo. Finely illustrated; special cover design. Price, 60c per volume.

Comrades on the Farm, or the Mystery of Deep Gulch.Comrades in New York, or Snaring the Smugglers.Comrades on the Ranch, or Secret of the Lost River.Comrades in New Mexico, or the Round-up.Comrades on the Great Divide (in preparation).

Comrades on the Farm, or the Mystery of Deep Gulch.

Comrades in New York, or Snaring the Smugglers.

Comrades on the Ranch, or Secret of the Lost River.

Comrades in New Mexico, or the Round-up.

Comrades on the Great Divide (in preparation).

Ralph Victor is probably the best equipped writer of up-to-date boy’s stories of the present day. He has traveled or lived in every land, has shot big game with Sears in India, has voyaged with Jack London, and was a war correspondent in Natal and Japan. The lure of life in the open has always been his, and his experiences have been thrilling and many.—“Progress.”

CHATTERTON-PECK CO.New York

CHATTERTON-PECK CO.

New York

Back to IndexNext