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have been far more suitable, but you had made her promise to go with you."

      "I would have released her from her promise at once, if she had expressed a wish to that effect. Now, I want to give you a piece of advice."

      "I don't want any of your advice," said Tom loftily. "I don't want any advice from a store boy."

      "I'll give it to you all the same. You can make money by minding your own business."

      "You are impudent!" said Tom, flushing with anger. "I've got something more to tell you. You'll be out on the sidewalk before three months are over. Father is going to foreclose the mortgage on your house."

      "That remains to be seen!" said Ben, but his heart sank within him as he realized that the words would probably prove true.

      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."

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