We now come back to Ben and his new found friend, the reporter.
"If you don't object, I will walk down town with you, Mr. Manton," said Ben, as they left the restaurant where they had breakfasted.
"I shall be glad of your company, Ben," said Manton, cordially. "I will point out to you the chief landmarks, and places of interest, as we go along."
"I wish you would," said Ben. "I know very little of the city."
"That is a defect you will soon remedy," said his friend.
"By the way," said Ben, with a sudden thought, "how was it that you asked me if I knew Mr. Walton?"
"Because I saw that Mr. Walton knew you."
"You saw that he knew me?" repeated Ben, puzzled.
"Yes. Do you remember a stout gentleman who came into Hitchcock's just as we were going out?"
"No; I did not observe him."
"It was Nicholas Walton. When his glance first rested upon you he started and looked disturbed."
"He did not approve of my coming to New York," explained Ben. "Then you think he recognized me?"
"I am sure of it."
"I wonder he did not speak to me!" said Ben, thoughtfully.
"Probably for the reason you have assigned – because he did not approve of your coming. Do you expect to call upon him?"
"Yes; I am going to ask if he won't give me a place in his store. He employs a large number, I suppose?"
"Yes; not less than a hundred, I should think, in various ways inside the store, besides scores of seamstresses outside. He has a very large establishment, and is accounted a very rich man."
"So I have always heard," said Ben. "He wanted me to stay in Sunderland and become a farmer."
"And you don't fancy the advice?"
"No. I should never make a farmer. If I had any taste for it, I might have followed my uncle's advice."
"Have you ever seen Mr. Walton's store?" asked the reporter, presently.
"No."
"Here it is," and he pointed to a spacious store, with great plate-glass windows, in which was displayed suits of clothes in profusion.
"Then, Mr. Manton, I believe I will leave you and go in. I want to find out as soon as possible whether my uncle will help me, or whether I must depend upon myself."
"Good luck to you, Ben, then! I will expect to see you to-night."
And Hugh Manton kept on his way down town, to see what work had been laid out for him at the office.
CHAPTER V.
A Young Dude
Ben entered the great store, gazing not without admiration at the long counters loaded with piles of clothing.
"My uncle must be a very rich man," he said to himself. "Surely he can find a place for me in so large a store."
"Do you wish to buy a suit?" asked a spruce young man, coming forward to meet our hero.
"No; I would like to see Mr. Walton," answered Ben.
The young man surveyed Ben's country garb with a smile of depreciation. He was apt to judge others by their clothes, being conscious, perhaps, that they were his own chief claim to consideration.
"I don't think Mr. Walton will see you, youngster," he said.
"Why not?" demanded Ben, looking him calmly in the eye.
"His time is of too much value to waste on country kids."
"Mr. Walton is my uncle," said Ben, quietly.
"Your uncle!" repeated the clerk, in considerable surprise. "Oh, well, that alters the case. Just go through the store and you will find Mr. Walton in his office."
Ben followed directions, and found the office without further inquiry.
Through the open door he saw a short man, of fifty or thereabouts, sitting at a desk. There was another person in the office – a boy, somewhere near his own age – dressed in the fashion, with a gold watch-chain across his vest, a showy pin in his scarf, and the air of a young coxcomb.
This was Clarence Plantagenet Walton, the only son of the merchant, and of course Ben's cousin. The two, however, had not met since both were very young boys, and neither would have recognized the other.
Ben overheard a fragment of the conversation between his uncle and cousin.
"You spend too much money, Plantagenet. It is less than a week since I gave you ten dollars."
"The fellows I go with are all rich, and spend plenty of money. You wouldn't want them to look upon me as mean, pa?"
"The boys of the present day are altogether too extravagant," said his father, frowning. "Why, when I was a boy, I didn't spend ten dollars in three months."
"You were not in fashionable society like me, pa," said Clarence Plantagenet, consequentially.
"Much good it does you!" muttered Mr. Walton. "What do you want money for particularly to-day?"
"I am going with Percy Van Dyke to a base-ball match this afternoon. Percy lives in a splendid house on Fifth avenue, and his family is one of the first. I suppose we shall get home late, and I want to give him a little supper at Delmonico's."
"The Van Dykes stand very high," said Mr. Walton, complacently. "I am very glad to have you associate with such a high-toned family. I suppose I must let you have the money."
He drew out a ten-dollar bill and tendered it to Clarence.
"Five dollars more, if you please, pa," said the elegant youth. "Suppers at Delmonico's are expensive, and I don't want to economize with such a fellow as Percy."
"Very well; here are five dollars more, but don't be foolishly extravagant."
Clarence was about to leave the office, well satisfied, when he espied Ben.
"Who do you want to see, boy?" he demanded, curtly.
"I should like to speak with my uncle," answered Ben.
"Then don't hang around my father's office. If your uncle is employed in this establishment, you can ask one of the floor-walkers to point him out."
Ben eyed the arrogant boy in some amusement, and answered, demurely:
"My uncle is Mr. Nicholas Walton, and you, I suppose, are my cousin Clarence."
Clarence Plantagenet recoiled in disgust.
"I don't understand you," he said. "You must be crazy."
Ben was not obliged to vindicate his sanity, for his uncle, who had hitherto remained silent, now spoke.
"You can come in, if you are Benjamin Baker, of Sunderland."
"Thank you, Uncle Nicholas," said Ben.
"Is he my cousin?" asked Plantagenet of his father, in evident discomposure.
"Yes, I presume so. His mother is my sister."
"Did you send for him, pa?"
"No."
"Then why is he here?"
"I expect him to explain that to me," said Mr. Walton, coldly. "Benjamin, what brings you to New York?"
"I want to get a position here, so that I may learn business. I thought you might find me a place in your store, Uncle Nicholas."
"Did I not write you to stay in Sunderland?" asked Mr. Walton, coldly.
"Yes."
"Then why have you disobeyed me?" continued the merchant, with a frown.
"Because I have no taste for farming, and there is no other employment there."
"A