made you tell the lady what she had on her back?" demanded a third.
"I thought she ought to know," answered Ben.
"Oh, you did!" sneered the first. "What you wanted was a reward. I'm glad she didn't give you a cent."
"You judge me by yourself," said Ben, provoked. "I can be polite without being paid for it."
"Say that again!" said Mike Rafferty, a freckle-faced young rowdy, squaring off in a scientific manner.
"All right; I do say it again!" returned Ben, angrily.
"Take that, then!" said the fellow, as he struck at Ben.
Our hero dodged, and returned the compliment.
At that moment a policeman came round the corner, just in time to see Ben's demonstration.
"So you're fightin' agin, you young rascal!" exclaimed the valiant officer. "I've got ye this time!" and he seized Ben by the shoulder.
Ben turned, and, it must be confessed, was startled to find himself, for the first time in his life, in the hands of the law.
"That boy attacked me, sir," he said.
"It's a lie!" exclaimed Mike Rafferty. "Isn't it b'yes?"
"Yes, it's a lie!" chimed in his companions, whose sympathies, of course, were with Mike.
"Jist what I thought meself," said the astute officer.
"Say, cop, ye didn't see me hit him?" said Mike.
"Don't ye call me cop!" said the policeman, with insulted dignity.
"I mean captain," amended Mike, craftily.
"What's all the fuss about?" interrogated the officer.
"I axed him was he from the country, and he got mad and hit me," said Mike. "Say, b'yes, ain't it so?"
"Yes, that's so," answered the boys, in chorus.
"Then you must come with me, you young rascal!" said the officer.
"Where?" asked Ben, with sinking heart.
"To the station-house. I'll tache ye to fight in the streets. You must go along, too, and make complaint," he added, addressing Mike Rafferty.
"All right, captain. Come along, b'yes," said Mike, with a wink of enjoyment at his companions.
Ben felt not a little humiliated at walking along Broadway in the clutch of a policeman. He felt bewildered, too, it had come upon him so quickly. It really seemed as if misfortunes were crowding upon him. First, his uncle had practically disowned him, he had been rebuffed in his attempt to obtain employment, and now he was arrested, and on his way to the station-house, charged with fighting and disorderly conduct in the streets.
To make matters worse and heighten his humiliation, as he was walking along, shrinking from observation, he met his cousin, Clarence Plantagenet, in company with another boy, somewhat older, dressed also in the height of the fashion.
Clarence regarded Ben in amazement, and turned away his head in a disgust which he did not attempt to conceal.
"He will tell Uncle Nicholas," thought our unfortunate hero, "and he will think I have been doing something disgraceful."
"Come along, ye young rapscallion!" said the policeman, roughly, "I'll soon attind to your case."
CHAPTER VII.
A Strange Adventure
Under different circumstances Ben might have been interested in his first view of a police station. But, standing before the bar in the custody of a policeman, he felt too much troubled in mind to notice his surroundings. As another prisoner was under examination, fifteen minutes elapsed before Ben's turn came.
"What is the charge against this boy?" asked the sergeant.
"I caught him fightin' in the streets," said the officer. "He was hittin' that b'ye yonder," indicating Mike Rafferty.
Mike, who looked emphatically like a hard case, tried to appear like a respectable, well-behaved boy, who had been set upon by a young ruffian.
"What's your name?" asked the sergeant, addressing Mike.
"Mike Rafferty, yer honor," answered Mike, thinking it best to be as respectable as possible.
"Did this boy strike you?"
"Yes, and he did, your honor, and if you don't believe me just ax any of them b'yes," indicating his companions. "Tommy Burke, didn't you see him hit me?"
"That will do. What did he hit you for?"
"Faith, and I don't know," said Mike, shrugging his shoulders.
"Did you hit him first?"
"No, I didn't do nothing to him," answered Mike, virtuously.
"I think you have been here before," said the sergeant, whose memory was good.
"I don't remember it," said Mike, cautiously, not thinking it politic to contradict the sergeant.
"Officer, do you know anything of the boy you have brought in?"
"Oh, yes, I've known him a long time. He's wan of the gang," answered the policeman, glibly.
Just then a gentleman came forward, whom, much to Ben's delight, he remembered as the keeper of a dry-goods store in Sunderland. Bowing to the sergeant, he said, respectfully:
"I know this boy, and I know that the policeman is under a great mistake. Will you allow me to say what I know about him?"
"Go on, sir."
"So far from his being a member of any city gang, he lives in the country, and it is extremely doubtful if the policeman ever saw him before. He only came to the city yesterday."
"He's wan of the gang," persisted the officer, sullenly. "I've seen him ivery day for the last three months."
"Mr. Sergeant," said the former speaker, "this officer is guilty of willful falsehood. I know the boy as well as I know my own son, and I know that he has passed the last three months in the country."
"The boy is discharged," said the officer. He added, sharply: "Officer Flynn, I expect the truth from you in future. The boy you have arrested is much more respectable in appearance than his accuser, and, under the circumstances, I cannot attach any credit to your charge against him. Be more careful in future."
With sullen reluctance, the officer, who is a type of a considerable number on the force, but not of all, released Ben.
Our hero walked up to the gentleman whose testimony had been of so much value to him, and warmly thanked him.
"I was in a bad scrape," he said, "and I don't know how I would have come out of it if you had not spoken for me."
"I chanced to see you in charge, and followed as soon as I could," said Mr. Woodbury. "What luck are you meeting with in New York, Ben?"
"Not
