One day, about six months after Harry's return from Rockville, as he was engaged behind the counter, a young man entered the store and accosted him.

"Halloo, Harry! How are you?"

It was a familiar voice; and, to Harry's surprise, but not much to his satisfaction, he recognized his old companion, Ben Smart, who, he had learned from Mr. Bryant, had been sent to the house of correction for burning Squire Walker's barn.

"How do you do, Ben?" returned Harry, not very cordially.

"So you are here--are you?"

"Yes, I have been here six months."

"Good place?"

"First rate."

"Any chance for me?"

"No, I guess not."

"You have got a sign out for a boy, I see."

It was true they had. There were more errands to run than one boy could attend to; besides, Harry had proved himself so faithful and so intelligent, that Mr. Wake wished to retain him in the store, to fit him for a salesman.

"You can speak a good word for me, Harry; for I should like to work here," continued Ben.

"I thought you were in--in the--"

Harry did not like to use the offensive expression, and Ben's face darkened when he discovered what the other was going to say.

"Not a word about that," said he. "If you ever mention that little matter, I'll take your life."

"But how was it?"

"My father got me out, and then I ran away. Not a word more, for I had as lief be hung for an old sheep as a lamb."

"There is Mr. Wake; you can apply to him," continued Harry.

Ben walked boldly up to Mr. Wake, and asked for the place. The senior talked with him a few moments, and then retired to his private office, calling Harry as he entered.

"If you say anything, I will be the death of you," whispered Ben, as Harry pa.s.sed him on his way to the office.

Our hero was not particularly pleased with these threats; he certainly was not frightened by them.

"Do you know that boy, Harry?" asked Mr. Wake, as he presented himself before the senior.

"I do, sir."

"Who is he, and what is he?"

"His name is Benjamin Smart. He belongs to Redfield."

"To Redfield? He said he came from Worcester."

"I believe Mr. Bryant told you the story about my leaving Redfield,"

said Harry.

"He did."

"That is the boy that run away with me."

"And the one that set the barn afire?"

"Yes, sir."

"That is enough." And Harry returned to his work at the counter.

"What did he say to you?" asked Ben.

Before Harry had time to make any reply, Mr. Wake joined them.

"We don't want you, young man," said he.

With a glance of hatred at Harry, the applicant left the store. Since leaving Redfield, our hero's views of duty had undergone a change; and he now realized that to screen a wicked person was to plot with him against the good order of society. He knew Ben's character; he had no reason, after their interview, to suppose it was changed; and he could not wrong his employers by permitting them ignorantly to engage a bad boy, especially when he had been questioned directly on the point.

Towards evening Harry was sent with a bundle to a place in Boylston Street, which required him to cross the Common. On his return, when he reached the corner of the burying ground, Ben Smart, who had evidently followed him, and lay in wait at this spot for him, sprang from his covert upon him. The young villain struck him a heavy blow in the eye before Harry realized his purpose. The blow, however, was vigorously returned; but Ben, besides being larger and stronger than his victim, had a large stone in his hand, with which he struck him a blow on the side of his head, knocking him insensible to the ground.

The wretch, seeing that he had done his work, fled along the side of the walk of the burying ground, pursued by several persons who had witnessed the a.s.sault. Ben was a fleet runner this time, and succeeded in making his escape.

CHAPTER XIX

IN WHICH HARRY FINDS THAT EVEN A BROKEN HEAD MAY BE OF SOME USE TO A PERSON

When Harry recovered his consciousness, he found himself in an elegantly furnished chamber, with several persons standing around the bed upon which he had been laid. A physician was standing over him, engaged in dressing the severe wound he had received in the side of his head.

"There, young man, you have had a narrow escape," said the doctor, as he saw his patient's eyes open.

"Where am I?" asked Harry, faintly, as he tried to concentrate his wandering senses.

"You are in good hands, my boy. What is your name?"

"Harry West. Can't I go home now?" replied the sufferer, trying to rise on the bed.

"Do you feel as though you could walk home?"