The Telegraph Messenger Boy; Or, The Straight Road to Success

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

  What imaginings were driven into the head of the ruffian by thewell-directed missile it would be impossible to say, but it is safe toconclude he was startled.

  His hat fell off, and, without stopping to pick it up, he broke into afrantic run, closely followed by his companion, neither of them makingthe least outcry, but doubtless doing a great deal of thinking.

  Ben Mayberry laughed until his sides ached, for the tables had beenturned most completely on his enemies; but he became serious again whenhe wended his way homeward, for there was much in the incidents of theday to mystify and trouble him.

  His mother had retired when he reached his house, but there was a "lightin the window" for him. The fond parent had such faith in her son thatshe did not feel alarmed when he was belated in coming home.

  Ben made a confidante of her in many things, but the truth was he wasoutgrowing her. She was a good, devout lady, but neither mentally norphysically could she begin to compare with her boy.

  Had he made known to her the contemplated robbery, or his own narrowescape from assault, she would have become nervous and alarmed.

  Ben did not tell her about the affray with Rutherford Richmond and hiscompanion, for it would only have distressed her without accomplishingany good.

  He saw that his terrible adventure the preceding winter, on the wreckedbridge, had shocked her more than many supposed, and more than shesuspected herself. The consequences became apparent months afterward, andcaused Ben to do his utmost to keep everything of a disquieting naturefrom his beloved mother.

  On the morrow Ben told me the whole particulars of his adventures on theway home, and asked me what I made of it.

  "I give it up," I answered. "It's beyond my comprehension."

  "Do I look like a wealthy youth?" he asked, with a laugh.

  "It is not that; they have some other purpose."

  "Do they imagine I carry the combination to some safe in the city, and dothey mean to force it from me?"

  "Nothing of that sort, as you very well know. It looks as if they reallymeditated doing you harm."

  "There is no room for doubt; and it was a lucky thing, after all, thatthe night was so dark, and the city don't furnish many lamps in that partof the town. Do you think I ought to tell the mayor or some officer aboutthis?"

  "Could you identify either of the men if you should meet him on thestreet?"

  "I could not, unless I was allowed to examine his back, where the stonelanded."

  "Then there's no use of telling anyone else, for no one could help you.You had better carry a pistol, and take a safer route home after this.One of these days, perhaps, the whole thing will be explained, but I ownthat it is altogether too much for any fellow to find out just now."

  It was natural that I should feel nervous the entire day, for there wasevery reason to believe we were close upon exciting incidents, in whichfate had ordered that Ben Mayberry and myself would have to make theinitial movements.

  Neither Burkhill, the tramp-like looking individual, nor any character towhom the least suspicion could attach, put in an appearance at thetelegraph office during the day; this was another disappointment to Benand myself.

  The mayor also was disposed to be uncommunicative, for when I dropped inon him during the afternoon, he was short in his answers, barelyintimating that everything was in a satisfactory shape. When askedwhether Detective Maxx had revealed himself, he said:

  "I have seen nothing of him, and do not care to see him. His help is notneeded."

  I am convinced that the action of the famous detective had a great dealto do with the ill-humor of the mayor, who was generally one of the mostaffable of men.

  I was pretty well used up, and at eleven o'clock I closed the office andwent home, separating as usual from Ben Mayberry, who, I was satisfied,intended to know whether anything was amiss before he lay down toslumber.

  Although the impression was general that it was the Mechanics' Bank whichwas the objective point of the conspirators, yet the chief of police, asI have intimated, had stationed his men so as to be ready for instantuse, should it prove to be any one of the moneyed institutions.

  Ben Mayberry was so well satisfied that it was the Mechanics' that, afterleaving me, he went in that direction, anxious to see a first-classburglary attempted and foiled.

  The institution, it will be remembered, stood on the corner of one of themain streets, and a lamp was burning directly opposite. The cashierreported that two suspicious characters had called during the day andmade some inquiries about drafts on New York, and the officers, who hadspent much time in the neighborhood, were convinced that they had seenthe same individuals stealthily viewing the bank from the outside.

  When Ben reached the vicinity he saw no person, although he well knewthat in almost every dark nook and hiding place, a guardian of the lawwas stationed, quietly awaiting the moment when the lawbreakers woulddare show themselves. Ben knew, too, that more than one pair of eyescarefully scrutinized him as they did every pedestrian who passed.

  He continued along until he reached a point where he could stand withoutbeing noticed by anyone. Then he stopped, and, wide awake as ever,resolved that he would see the thing out if he was forced to stand wherehe was until the rising of the sun on the morrow.

  CHAPTER XXI

  "LAY LOW!"

  The clock in the tower of the City Hall solemnly boomed the hour ofmidnight. Damietta lay wrapped in slumber--that is, so far as themajority of her citizens were concerned. Her guardians of the peace, as arule, were wide awake, and the dozens stationed within the vicinity ofher three national banks were particularly so.

  Ben Mayberry counted the strokes of the iron tongue, and reflected thatThursday was gone, and Friday had begun. As yet nothing had been seen orheard to indicate that anything unlawful was contemplated in thisimmediate neighborhood. More than once he was so well convinced that myview of the case was correct, that he was on the point of startinghomeward, but he checked himself and stayed.

  At such a time the minutes drag with exceeding slowness, and it seemed toBen that fully a couple of hours had gone by, when the huge clock struckone. During the interval a number of pedestrians had passed, and a partyof roystering youths rode by in a carriage, each one singingindependently of the other, and in a loud, unsteady voice, but nothingyet had occurred on which to hang a suspicion.

  The peculiar, ringing, wave-like tones, which are heard a few minutesafter the striking of a large bell, were still lingering in the air andgradually dying out, when one of the policemen gave a guarded whistle,which was a signal for the others to "lay low," or in better English, tokeep themselves unusually wide awake.

  A minute after two men were heard approaching, and became dimly visiblein the partial illumination of the street. It so happened that theywalked directly by where Ben was standing. They did not notice him,though he plainly saw them. They were of large frame, and walked with aslight unsteadiness, as though under the influence of liquor.

  "There's the bank," said one, in an undertone, as though he was impartinga momentous secret to the other.

  "That's so; if we could only get in, knock the watchman on the head, andkick in the door of the safe, we would make a good haul."

  "Suppose we try it, Jack----"

  For more than two hours a burly watchman had been hidden close at hand,without Ben suspecting his presence. The last sentence was in the mouthof the speaker when this policeman sprang upon the amazed strangers, whowere discussing the burglary of the bank.

  He must have been surcharged with faithfulness, for, instead of waitinguntil an overt act was committed, as all had been instructed to do, herushed upon the men in a burst of enthusiasm which knew no restraint andpassed all bounds.

  "Yes, you'll rob the bank, will you?" he shouted, swinging his club aloftand bringing it down on the heads of the others. "I'll show you--we'vebeen watching you. We know you. You're a fine set of cracksmen. You thinkDamietta is a country town, but you'll learn different----"

  Thes
e vigorous observations were punctuated with equally vigorous whacksof the club, which it seemed must crack the skulls of the men, and in allprobability would have done so had they not risen to the exigencies ofthe case and turned upon the policeman with remarkable promptitude.

  Both of them were powerful, and finding themselves assailed in thisfashion, one knocked the officer half-way across the street, wrenched hisclub from his grasp, and began laying it over his head. The strickenguardian of the peace shouted for help, and tried desperately to draw hisrevolver. Finally he got it out, but before he could use it that also wastaken from him, and it looked as though little would be left of him.

  THE POLICEMAN BROUGHT HIS CLUB DOWN ON THE HEADS OF THEOTHERS.--P. 144.]

  But the other policemen came running up, and took a hand in the fracas.While some went for the one who was belaboring the representative of thelaw, others made for the second burglar. But he was more muscular, ifpossible, than his friend, and he laid about him with such vigor thatthree officers were prostrated before he could be secured. Calling to hisfriend, the two gave themselves up, demanding to know why peaceablecitizens should be clubbed when quietly walking along the street.

  "We had not uttered a disrespectful word," said the first, "but werejoking together, when that brass-buttoned idiot pounced upon us. Wesimply defended ourselves, as every man has a right to do, and we don'tpropose to let the matter rest here."

  "He lies!" shouted the officer who had fared so ill, as he came forward,his hat off, and his clothing covered with dust; "he was arranging to robthe bank; they are the burglars that we've been watching for days; I know'em all right."

  "We shall have to take you along," said the chief, who saw that matterswere considerably mixed.

  At this point Ben thought it was his duty to interfere.

  "If you will permit me, I am satisfied that some mistake has been made.These gentlemen did nothing----"

  "He's one of 'em," broke in the first officer, whose wrath could not beappeased; "he's been their dummy; he was on the lookout to give 'emwarning; run him in, too."

  Despite Ben Mayberry's protests, he was forced to go with the prisoners;but on the way to the lock-up he was recognized by several officers,including the chief, who ordered his release, Ben promising to appear inthe morning at the hearing.

  On the morrow several important facts came to light. The two individualswho had been so roughly used were honest countrymen, whose references tothe robbery of the bank were purely in jest--such a project as burglarynever entering their thoughts.

  The policeman who assailed them made a humble apology, and they agreed tolet the matter drop.

  Another fact that was established was that the policemen of Damietta werevery much like those of other cities.

  The third truth was, that no burglary took place on Thursday night orFriday morning, and everything was as quiet as the surface of a summermill-pond, with the single exception of the incident just narrated.

  CHAPTER XXII

  THE BATTLE OF LIFE

  After all the elaborate preparations for the capture of the burglars, thewhole business had fallen so flat that the officers of the law themselveslaughed at the farcical termination. Nothing criminal was attempted, andDamietta never was more peaceful in all its history than it was duringthe many weeks and months which followed.

  And yet, in spite of all this, there could be no question that such aburglarious scheme at one time was contemplated. The cipher telegrams,and the surveillance to which Ben Mayberry was subjected, together withthe attempted assault upon him, made this too manifest to be disputed.

  "They simply discovered the preparations made by the authorities," I saidto Ben, "and they had prudence enough to withdraw."

  "Do you believe they have given it up altogether?"

  "I doubt it. They have simply deferred the execution until some safertime. We must continue to be on the lookout for telegrams in cipher.These gentry have evil designs upon Damietta, as will be proven before weare many years older."

  When Ben Mayberry reached the age of fifteen, he attained an importantepoch in his life. He had long been one of the most skillful operators inthe district, being remarkably quick and accurate.

  I have told enough to prove his courteous disposition toward all whoentered our office. The pretended Mr. Jones, who acted the part of theignorant farmer, was, as I have stated, a high official of the company,who took odd means to test the character and skill of our employees. Thetest in the case of young Mayberry proved most satisfactory in everyrespect.

  At my request, I was transferred to one of the cities in the EasternStates, where the climate agreed better with me. I was given charge of animportant office, an advance made in my wages, and everything was done tomake the change agreeable. Such being the fact, it is no assumption on mypart to say that my administration of the exacting duties in Damietta hadbeen fully appreciated by my superior officers.

  Ben Mayberry was made manager of the office in his native city at asalary of seventy-five dollars per month. This statement the reader maydoubt, for I am quite certain that no telegraphist of his age was evergiven such an important charge, nor is anyone so young paid such aliberal salary; but, did I feel at liberty to do so, I could locate BenMayberry so closely that all skeptics could ascertain the facts, in abrief time, precisely as I have given them.

  We have many office managers, in different parts of the country, who lackseveral years of their majority; but, as a rule, their stations are notvery important, and their pay is nothing like what Ben received. Therewere exceptional circumstances in his case. He was unusually bright, hewas very attentive, he was courteous, cheerful, and never shirked work.He was popular with our patrons, and much of the increase in the businessof the Damietta office was due to Ben alone. This became known to thoseabove him, and they felt that an unusual promotion on his part would notonly be a just recognition of his ability and devotion, but would do muchto stimulate others to imitate the good example set by the boy.

  In addition to all this, it cannot be denied that fortune favored Ben ina marked degree. The fact that he was swept down the river in thedarkness and tempest, while trying to deliver a telegram for a messengerwho was ill, and that he saved the life of a little girl, could not failto operate strongly to his benefit. But he would have reached the end allthe same, without these aids, just as you, my young friend, may attainthe topmost round by climbing up, up, up, step after step, step afterstep.

  There is no cup in this life without some drops of bitterness, and,despite the promotion of Ben, which he fully appreciated, he was castdown by another circumstance, which troubled him more than he would admitto his closest friends.

  He had not seen sweet Dolly Willard since the grand children's party atMr. Grandin's, more than two years previous. She had written himregularly every week for months, and he had been equally prompt inanswering. Ben wrote a beautiful hand, and his missives to Dolly werelong and affectionate. She would have visited her cousins in Damietta,had they not made a visit to Europe, which shut off the possibility ofher doing so for some time to come.

  Ben felt that under the circumstances it was hardly the thing for him tomake a call upon Dolly in New York, though she invited him to do so.

  But during the very week that Ben was given charge of the Damiettaoffice, the mail failed to bring the usual letter from Dolly. He waitedimpatiently for several days and then wrote to her. There was no responseto this, and he felt resentful. He held out for a fortnight, and then wasso worried that he was forced to write again. But this was equallyfruitless of results, and he became angry.

  "She is getting to be quite a large girl; her folks are wealthy, and shehas begun to realize that I am nothing but a poor telegraphist. Her folkshave told her she must look higher, and she has come to that same mindherself. Ah, well; let it be so!"

  That was expressive of his feelings. Sometimes Ben felt like rebellingagainst his fate. He had applied himself hard for years; he possessed anexcellent education; he held a p
rominent position in the greatesttelegraph company of the country, with a prospect of further advancementbefore him, and yet, because he was poor, he was looked down upon bythose who were his inferiors in everything except the single one ofwealth.

  "It is a great disappointment," he sometimes murmured, "but I am young;most folks would laugh that one of my age should take such a fancy to alittle girl like Dolly, and they would say I am certain to get over itvery soon. And just there is where they would all make a great mistake."

  And Ben Mayberry was right on that point.

  CHAPTER XXIII

  FACE TO FACE

  Ben Mayberry was sitting at his desk in the Damietta office, onebeautiful day in Indian summer, attentive as ever to his duties, when acarriage drove up to the door containing a young gentleman and a lady.The former sprang lightly out and ran into the office, after the mannerof one who was in a hurry to send an important telegram.

  Suddenly, while Ben was looking at the youth he recognized him asRutherford Richmond, with whom he had had several important meetings.

  "Why, Rutherford, you have grown so much I didn't recognize you; I amglad to see you; how have you been?"

  Ben reached his hand over the counter as he greeted the young man, butthe latter affected not to hear him. Turning to the desk, he wrote out amessage with great rapidity, wheeled about, and, without the slightestevidence of ever having seen Ben, handed him the paper and ordered thedispatch to be sent to New York.

  This was the telegram:

  "Richard Willard, No.-- Avenue, New York: