Читать книгу Ben Bruce: Scenes in the Life of a Bowery Newsboy - Horatio Jr. Alger - Страница 11

Table of Contents

The two boys rose from the bench, fully appreciating the danger to which they were exposed, and uncertain what it was safest to do. The dog was of medium size, weighing perhaps forty pounds.

It was foaming at the mouth and might well inspire alarm. As is customary in such cases, it followed a straight course, turning neither to the right nor the left.

“We are safe,” said Ben, “if we stay where we are.”

Directly in front of the dog was a gentleman of middle age holding by the hand a small boy of ten. Among the flying crowd this pair seemed most exposed to peril. The man’s face was pale, for he felt the dangerous position in which they stood.

“Hurry, Paul, hurry!” he cried.

“I can’t run any faster, papa!” said the little boy, gasping for breath.

Two legs are no match for four, and the dog was within six feet of the boy, whom it had selected as its victim.

To Adelbert’s surprise, Ben sprang forward and made a dash for the dog. He had pulled off his sack-coat, and just as the dog was about to fasten his teeth in Paul’s leg, he threw the coat over the animal’s head and held it tight.

But the dog struggled so powerfully that Ben was in peril. Help came when it was needed.

A mechanic, strong and muscular, rushed to his assistance, and between them they held the dog firmly muzzled till a policeman arrived, and drawing a revolver shot the frantic animal through the head.

With a hoarse cry the dog stretched himself out in the agonies of death.

“Your little boy has been saved from a terrible death,” said a bystander to Paul’s father.

The latter breathed a deep sigh of relief. He turned his eyes in the direction of Ben, who was holding up his coat and gazing at it with a rueful look.

“It is spoiled,” said Adelbert. “You can never wear it again.”

“And it is my only one,” rejoined Ben.

He felt a touch upon his arm, and turning, saw that it was the little boy’s father who had thus called his attention.

“My dear boy,” he said, in a tone of deep emotion, “how can I thank you for what you have done? By your bravery you have in all probability saved my son from a terrible death.”

“I am so glad,” was Ben’s reply. “When I saw his danger I couldn’t help trying to save him. Any one would have done it,” he added modestly.

“No one did it but you,” said the father significantly. “What is your name?”

“Ben Bruce.”

“Do you live in Boston?”

“No, sir; I am on my way to New York.”

“Are you—excuse my asking—in limited circumstances?”

“I have to make my own way,” answered Ben. “I am going to New York to seek my fortune.”

“And this boy with you—is he your brother?”

“No,” answered Adelbert, “I am Ben’s cousin, and proud of the relationship,” he added. “I didn’t think Ben had so much pluck.”

“I think I heard you say that this was your only coat.”

“Yes, sir,” answered Ben shyly.

“You can never wear it any more. The least I can do is to replace it. Are you acquainted in Boston?”

“No, sir, but Adelbert is.”

“Do you know where to find the clothing house of A. Shuman?” asked the gentleman, addressing Adelbert.

“Yes, sir; I am going there myself to buy a suit of clothes.”

“Then take your cousin with you and help him select a suit.”

“But, sir, I only lost my coat.”

“I certainly can do no less than buy you a complete suit. Then I shall hope to have the pleasure of entertaining you both at dinner at my house in Mt. Vernon Street. We dine at two o’clock. Wait a minute and I will give you an order on Mr. Shuman for a suit.”

He tore a leaf from his memorandum book and wrote upon it these words:

“Allow the bearer to select clothing to the amount of thirty-five dollars, and charge the same to my account.

“Franklin Wentworth.”

“Please read this,” he said to Ben.

“Isn’t that a great deal to spend for a suit, sir?” asked Ben.

“Yes; I advise you to use only part of it for a suit, and buy other articles such as you need to make up the balance. I dare say you can make use of other things.”

“Thank you sir. You are quite right.”

“I will bid you good morning now, and will expect to see you at dinner. Here is my card.”

“Franklin Wentworth,” repeated Adelbert, looking at the latter. “He is a broker in State Street, and is considered a rich man. You are in luck, Ben. The folks will be su’prised when they hear that I have taken dinner at his house.”

“What shall I do with this coat, Adelbert?” asked Ben.

“Give it to me,” said a ragged boy, who overheard the question.

“But it is spoiled. It has the dog’s saliva on it.”

“Mother will clean it for me. It’s better than any I have got.”

“You are welcome to it,” said Ben, “but be careful to clean it thoroughly.”

“Yes, I will,” and the boy walked away with a pleased expression.

“I’d like to get a new suit at once, Del,” said Ben. “I feel queer walking in Boston without a coat.”

“We’ll go down Bromfield Street to Washington. That will bring us out very near Shuman’s.”

The two boys walked down to Washington Street, Ben attracting attention from the crowd, some of whom knew that he was the boy who had helped capture the mad dog. They crossed the street and entered the large, handsome store of A. Shuman & Co. In the windows was a fine display of fashionable clothing.

One of the salesmen stepped up and met the two boys, his curiosity a little excited by Ben’s appearance.

Ben showed the memorandum.

“My coat was spoiled by an accident,” he said, “but I guess I can get a better one here.”

“I think we shall be able to fit you out.”

Ben finally selected a stylish suit for twenty-five dollars, and invested the remaining ten dollars in underclothing and an extra pair of trousers.

“Will you have the clothes sent home?” asked the salesman.

“I should like to take off the clothes I have on and put on the whole new suit.”

“Very well.”

“I will take the rest in a bundle,” went on Ben. “I am only passing through Boston, and have no place to send it to.”

“It will be rather awkward to carry the bundle around,” said Adelbert.

“We will keep it here for you subject to your order,” interposed the salesman. “When will you call for it?”

“About half-past four,” suggested Adelbert. “My cousin is going to New York by the Fall River boat.”

“Very good.”

In ten minutes Ben left the store looking very much better than when he entered it, so far as clothing was concerned. He had hardly reached the street when a brisk-looking young man stepped up to him.

“I beg your pardon,” he said, “but are you the boy who tackled the mad dog on the Common twenty minutes since?”

“Yes, sir,” answered Ben, rather surprised.

“I thought so. I am a reporter of the Boston Globe. Please step around to the office with me, and help me fix up an account of it for our paper.”

“Really, Ben, you are getting to be a prominent character,” said Adelbert, laughing.

“It seems so,” answered Ben.

Both boys walked to the Globe office not far away, and Ben was asked several questions, which he answered promptly.

“Thank you,” said the young man. “Now, if you have no objection, I will take you out and have your picture taken.”

“What for?” asked Ben, puzzled.

“To reproduce in our evening edition.”

“You mean to put my picture in the paper?” asked Ben, almost frightened.

“Yes; the young people will like to see it.”

“Oh, have it taken, Ben,” said Adelbert, “I will take one home to Natick, and won’t the folks be surprised!”

So Ben submitted. He felt that it was quite the most wonderful day in his life.