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The Ben, The Luggage Boy; or, Among the Wharves, a novel by Horatio Alger |
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Chapter 22. The Heavy Valise |
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_ CHAPTER XXII. THE HEAVY VALISE Ben had sold half his papers when the arrival of the train from Philadelphia gave him an opportunity to return to his legitimate calling. "Smash your baggage, sir?" asked Ben of a dark-complexioned man of thirty-five, who carried a moderate-sized valise. "Yes," said the other. "Where shall I carry it?" "To----" Here the man hesitated, and finally answered, "There is no need of telling you. I will take it from you when we have got along far enough." Ben was about to walk beside the owner of the valise; but the latter objected to this. "You needn't walk beside me," he said. "Keep about a block ahead." "But how will I know where to go?" asked Ben, naturally. "You know where Broome Street runs into the Bowery?" "Of course I do." "Go there by the shortest route. Don't trouble yourself about me. I'll follow along behind, and take the valise from you there. If you get there before I do, wait for me." "I suppose I'm too ragged to walk alongside of him," thought Ben. He could think of no other reason for the direction given by the other. However, Ben's pride was not very much hurt. Although he was ragged now, he did not mean to be long. The time would come, he was confident, when he could lay aside his rags, and appear in a respectable dress. The valise which he carried proved to be considerably heavier than would have been imagined from its size. "I wonder what's in it," thought Ben, who found it tugging away at his arms. "If it's shirts they're cast-iron. Maybe they're just comin' in fashion." However, he did not perplex himself much about this point. Beyond a momentary curiosity, he felt no particular interest in the contents of the valise. The way in which it affected him principally was, to make him inwardly resolve to ask an extra price, on account of the extra weight. After walking a while he looked back for the owner of the valise. But he was not in sight. "I might carry off his baggage," thought Ben, "without his knowin' it." He kept on, however, never doubting that the owner would sooner or later overtake him. If he did not care enough for the valise to do this, Ben would not be responsible. He had just shifted the heavy burden from one hand to the other, when he felt himself tapped on the shoulder. Looking round, he saw that the one who had done this was a quiet-looking man, of middle size, but with a keen, sharp eye. "What's wanted?" asked Ben. "Where did you get that valise, my lad?" asked the new-comer. "I don't know as that's any of your business," answered Ben, who didn't perceive the other's right to ask the question. "Is it yours?" "Maybe it is." "Let me lift it a moment." "Hands off!" said Ben, suspiciously. "Don't try none of your tricks on me." The other did not appear to notice this. "I take it for granted that the valise is not yours," he said. "Now tell me where you got it from." There was something of authority in his manner, which led Ben to think that he had a warrant for asking the question, though he could not guess his object in doing so. "I'm a baggage-smasher," answered Ben. "I got this from a man that came by the Philadelphia train." "Where is he?" "I guess he's behind somewheres." "Where are you carrying the valise?" "Seems to me you want to know a good deal," said Ben, undecided as to the right of the other to ask so many questions. "I'll let you into a secret, my lad; but you must keep the secret. That valise is pretty heavy, isn't it?" "I'll bet it is." "To the best of my information, the man who employed you is a noted burglar, and this valise contains his tools. I am a detective, and am on his track. I received a telegram an hour ago from Philadelphia, informing me that he was on his way. I got down to the wharf a little too late. Now tell me where you are to carry this;" and the detective pointed to the valise. "I am to meet the gentleman at the corner of Broome Street and the Bowery," said Ben. "Very well. Go ahead and meet him." "Shall you be there?" asked Ben. "Never mind. Go on just as if I had not met you, and deliver up the valise." "If you're goin' to nab him, just wait till I've got my pay. I don't want to smash such heavy baggage for nothin'." "I agree to that. Moreover, if I succeed in getting hold of the fellow through your information, I don't mind paying you five dollars out of my own pocket." "Very good," said Ben. "I shan't mind takin' it, not by no means." "Go on, and don't be in too much of a hurry. I want time to lay my trap." Ben walked along leisurely, in accordance with his instructions. At length he reached the rendezvous. He found the owner of the valise already in waiting. "Well, boy," he said, impatiently, "you took your time." "I generally do," said Ben. "It aint dishonest to take my own time, is it?" "I've been waiting here for a quarter of an hour. I didn't know but you'd gone to sleep somewhere on the way." "I don't sleep much in the daytime. It don't agree with my constitution. Well, mister, I hope you'll give me something handsome. Your baggage here is thunderin' heavy." "There's twenty-five cents," said the other. "Twenty-five cents!" exclaimed Ben, indignantly. "Twenty-five cents for walkin' two miles with such a heavy load. It's worth fifty." "Well, you won't get fifty," said the other, roughly. "Just get somebody else to carry your baggage next time," said Ben, angrily. He looked round, and saw the quiet-looking man, before referred to, approaching. He felt some satisfaction in knowing that his recent employer would meet with a check which he was far from anticipating. Without answering Ben, the latter took the valise, and was about moving away, when the quiet-looking man suddenly quickened his pace, and laid his hand on his arm. The burglar, for he was really one, started, and turned pale. "What do you want?" "You know what I want," said the detective, quietly. "I want you." "What do you want me for?" demanded the other; but it was easy to see that he was nervous and alarmed. "You know that also," said the detective; "but I don't mind telling you. You came from Philadelphia this morning, and your name is 'Sly Bill.' You are a noted burglar, and I shall take you into immediate custody." "You're mistaken," said Bill. "You've got hold of the wrong man." "That will soon be seen. Have the kindness to accompany me to the station-house, and I'll take a look into that valise of yours." Bill was physically a stronger man than the detective, but he succumbed at once to the tone of quiet authority with which he spoke, and prepared to follow, though by no means with alacrity. "Here, my lad," said the detective, beckoning Ben, who came up. "Come and see me at this place, to-morrow," he continued, producing a card, "and I won't forget the promise I made you." "All right," said Ben. "I'm in luck ag'in," he said to himself. "At this rate it won't take me long to make fifty dollars. Smashin' baggage for burglars pays pretty well." He bethought himself of his papers, of which half remained unsold. He sold some on the way back to the wharf, where, after a while, he got another job, for which, being at some distance, he was paid fifty cents. At five in the afternoon he reported himself at the news-stand. "I've sold all the papers you gave me," he said, "and here's the money. I guess I can sell more to-morrow." The news-dealer paid him the commission agreed upon, amounting to eighteen cents, Ben, of course, retaining besides the five cents which had been paid him extra in the morning. This made his earnings for the day ninety-eight cents, besides the dollars promised by the detective. _ |
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