The Telegraph Messenger Boy; Or, The Straight Road to Success
Edward Sylvester Ellis
Produced by Roger Frank and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
BEN SWUNG HIS HAT AND SHOUTED, AND AT LAST CAUGHT THENOTICE OF THE PEOPLE ON THE BANK.--P. 51.]
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THE TELEGRAPH MESSENGER BOYOrThe Straight Road to Success
ByEDWARD S. ELLIS
Author of "Down the Mississippi," "Life of KitCarson," "Lost in the Wilds," "Red Plume," Etc.
CHATTERTON-PECK COMPANYNEW YORK, N. Y.
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Copyright, 1889, byN. L. MUNRO
Copyright, 1904, byTHE MERSHON COMPANY
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CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE I. On a Log 1 II. The Collision 8 III. The Office Boy 16 IV. A Message in the Night 22 V. In Storm and Darkness 29 VI. "Tell Mother I Am All Right" 36 VII. A Thrilling Voyage 43 VIII. The Cipher Telegram 50 IX. The Translation 57 X. Farmer Jones 64 XI. The Value of Courtesy 71 XII. A Call 78 XIII. At the Grandin Mansion 85 XIV. The Conspiracy 93 XV. An Affray at Night 99 XVI. The Third Telegram 106 XVII. Decidedly Mixed 113 XVIII. Between Two Fires 120 XIX. Baffled! 127 XX. Watching and Waiting 134 XXI. "Lay Low!" 141 XXII. The Battle of Life 148 XXIII. Face to Face 155 XXIV. Startling Discoveries 160 XXV. In the Nick of Time 169 XXVI. Conclusion 176
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THE TELEGRAPH MESSENGER BOY
CHAPTER I
ON A LOG
I made the acquaintance of Ben Mayberry under peculiar circumstances. Ihad charge of the Western Union's telegraph office in Damietta, where myduties were of the most exacting nature. I was kept hard at work throughthe winter months, and more of it crowded on me during the spring than Icould manage with comfort.
I strolled to the river bank one summer afternoon, and was saunteringlazily along when I noticed a young urchin, who was floating down-streamon a log, which had probably drifted thither from the lumber regionsabove. The boy was standing upright, with a grin of delight on his face,and he probably found more real enjoyment in floating down-stream in thisstyle than any excursionist could obtain in a long voyage on a palacesteamer.
He had on an old straw hat, through the crown of which his brown hairprotruded in several directions; his pantaloons were held up by a singlesuspender, skewered through them in front by a tenpenny nail--anarrangement which caused the garments to hang in a lopsided fashion tohis shoulders. He was barefooted, and his trousers were rolled up to hisknees. He wore no coat nor vest, and his shirt was of the coarsestmuslin, but it was quite clean.
This boy was Ben Mayberry, then ten years old, and he was a remarkablefellow in more than one respect. His round face was not only the pictureof absolutely perfect health, but it showed unusual intelligence andbrightness. His figure was beautiful in its boyish symmetry, and no onecould look upon the lad without admiring his grace, of which he wasentirely unconscious.
In addition to this, Ben Mayberry was known to possess two accomplishments,as they may be called, to an extraordinary degree--he was very swift offoot and could throw with astonishing accuracy. Both of these attainmentsare held in high esteem by all boys.
I had met Ben at intervals during the year past, but could hardly claimto be acquainted with him. I usually bought my morning paper of himduring the cold weather, and I knew that his father was killed by ablasting accident some years before. Ben was the only child of hiswidowed mother, who managed to eke out a subsistence somehow with the aidof the little fellow, who was ever ready and cheerful with his work.
While I stood looking at Ben, drifting slowly down-stream, and reflectedthat the water was fully two fathoms deep at that point, three other boysstopped on the bank below me to view him. They were strangers to me, butI observed they were unusually well dressed. They had that effeminate,exquisite appearance which satisfied me they were visitors from Boston,sauntering along the river in order to learn whether there was anythingin our town worthy of their attention. They were apparently of nearly thesame age, and each was certainly one or two years older than BenMayberry.
"Hello," exclaimed one, as the three came to an abrupt halt, "look atthat country boy out on that log over there; he thinks he's smart."
"He's trying to show off, Rutherford," said another.
"I say, boys, let's stone him," suggested the third, in a voice soguarded that I was barely able to catch the words.
The proposition was received with favor, but one of them looked furtivelyaround and noticed me. His manner showed that he was in fear of mystopping their cruel sport.
"Who cares for him?" said one of the party, in a blustering voice that itwas meant I should hear; "he's nobody. I'll tell him my father is one ofthe richest men in Boston and is going to be governor some day."
"And I'll let him know that my father has taken me and our folks all overYurrup. Pooh! he daresn't say anything."
Soothed by this conclusion, the three began throwing stones at Ben.
Ben was close at hand, and the first boy who flung a missile poised andaimed with such deliberation that I was sure Ben would be hit; but thestone missed him by fully ten feet. It was not until two more had beenthrown that Ben awoke to the fact that he was serving as a target for thecity youth.
"What are you fellers doing?" he demanded, looking angrily toward them."Who you trying to hit?"
They laughed, and the tallest answered, as he flung another missile withgreat energy but poor aim:
"We're going to knock you off that log, Country! What are you going to doabout it?"
"I'll show you mighty soon," answered the sturdy lad, who straightwaypushed the long pole in his hand against the bottom of the river, so asto drive the log in toward the shore where his persecutors stood peltinghim.
There was something so plucky in all this that several others stopped towatch the result. I secretly resolved that if Ben got the worst of it (asseemed inevitable against three boys), I would interfere at the criticalmoment.
"He's coming ashore to whip us!" exclaimed the tallest lad, almostdropping to the ground with laughter. "I hope he will; I've been takingsparring lessons of Professor Sullivan for a year, and I would like thefun of knocking him out of time. I can do it in three rounds, and I wantyou boys to stand back and leave him to me. I'll paralyze him!"
The others were reluctant, each claiming the happiness of demolishing thecountryman; but the tallest, who was called Rutherford, at last securedtheir pledge that they would keep their hands off and allow him to haveall the fun to himself.
"I'll try the cross-counter on him, the upper cut, and then I'll land aleft-hander on his jug'lar that'll knock him stiff. Oh, how I ache to gethim within reach!"
CHAPTER II
THE COLLISION
Meanwhile Ben Mayberry was vigorously working the log in toward shore. Itmoved slowly, but the current was sluggish, the space brief, and he wascertain to land in a few minutes.
One of the stones struck Ben on the shoulder. It must have angered him,for instead of trying to dod
ge the rest, he used his pushing-pole withmore energy than before and paid no heed to the missiles, several ofwhich were stopped by his body.
It was plain that the valorous little fellow meant to attack the threecity lads, who were pestering him not only with stones, but with tauntsthat were far more exasperating.
"Wonder who blacked his shoes?"
"Ain't that hat a beauty? He can comb his hair without taking it off."
"That one suspender must have cost him a good deal."
"By gracious, he's going to chew us up," laughed the tallest, as the logapproached land; "stand back, boys, you promised him to me, and I don'twant either of you to say you helped me to knock him out in the thirdround."
The next minute the log was so close that the nimble-footed Ben leapedashore and strode straight for the valiant Rutherford, who immediatelythrew himself in "position." His attitude was certainly artistic, withhis left foot thrown forward, his right fist clinched and held across hisbreast, and his left extended ready to be shot forward into the firstopening that his enemy presented.
But it is one thing to assume the proper pugilistic attitude; it isaltogether another to act the part of a trained pugilist.
"Come on, Country!" called out the exultant Rutherford; "but I hopeyou've bid your friends farewell."
The other boys stood back and watched the singular contest. I carefullyapproached so as to be ready to protect Ben when it should becomenecessary.
The brave fellow never hesitated, but the instant he landed lightly onthe shore he went straight for Rutherford, who, it was plain, wasslightly surprised and disconcerted by his unscientific conduct. But thecity youth kept his guard well up, and the moment Ben was within reach hestruck a violent blow intended for the face.
But Ben dodged it easily, dropping his head and running with cat-likeagility directly under the guard of his antagonist, who, before he couldunderstand precisely what it meant, found himself clasped around thewaist and thrown on his back with such violence that a loud grunt wasforced from him, and his handsome new hat rolled rapidly down into thewater.
And I am free to confess that I was delighted when I saw Ben give himseveral of his "best licks," which made the tall boy roar for mercy.
"Take him off, boys! he's killing me! Quick! I can't live much longer."
The others were terrified at the hurricane-like style in which the boyhad turned the tables on the scientific Rutherford, but they could notstand by and see their companion massacred without raising a finger tohelp him.
"Pull him off!" yelled the victim, twisting his body and banging his legsin the soft earth in his vain effort to free himself from Ben, who waspegging away at him. "Pull him off! Put me on top, and I'll settle him!"
One of the boys ran forward and reached out his hand, intending to catchBen by the shoulder and fling him to the ground; but, to my intenseamazement and equally intense delight, Ben caught his arm, jerked himforward across the body of Rutherford, and belabored both of them. It wasone of the neatest feats I ever saw performed, and, under thecircumstances, I would have pronounced it impossible had it not been donebefore my own eyes.
Both the hats of the Boston youths were floating down the river, and theywere so close to the water's edge that they were covered with mud. Thevigor of the assault on the two was increased rather than diminished, andwe spectators were cruel enough to laugh heartily over the exhibition,accompanied as it was by the frenzied yells of the two lads who werereceiving the wrathful attentions of Ben Mayberry.
The third boy could not stand it. He must have thought they had come incollision with a gorilla or some sort of wild animal, for he started upthe river bank, shouting "Murder!" at the top of his voice. Ben, havinggot through with the two under him, sprang off and allowed them to rise,standing ready to renew the fight should they show any desire to do so.
BEN CAUGHT HIS ARM, JERKED HIM ACROSS THE BODY OFRUTHERFORD, AND BELABORED BOTH OF THEM.--P. 12.]
But they were too thoroughly vanquished. Their plight was laughable, andyet pitiable. They were coated with mud from head to foot, and theirpretty hats, with their polka-dot bands, were gone too far down the riverto be recovered.
They seemed dazed for a minute or so, but as soon as they realized theywere on their feet they started off after their flying companion, neverpausing to look behind them, but running as though a Bengal tiger was attheir heels.
"Ben," said I, walking forward as soon as I could assume a seriousexpression of countenance, "do you not know it is very wrong to fight?"
"That's what I was tryin' to teach them city chaps. I guess they'll thinkso after this."
"You certainly did your best to convince them it isn't wise to attackyou; but, Ben, what have you been doing lately?"
"My last job was whipping them," replied the urchin, with a roguishtwinkle of his blue eyes; "but that was fun, and if you mean work, Ihain't had anything but selling papers since last summer, but sometimes Irun errands."
"Do you go to school?"
"Yes, sir."
"Would you like a job?"
"Indeed I would, sir, for mother finds it hard work to get along, andsometimes there isn't anything to eat in the house. Once, when I was alittle fellow, when I saw mother crying, and there was no bread, Islipped out at night and stole a loaf, but mother would not touch it whenI brought it home, and made me take it back. She told me I must starvebefore I did wrong, and so I will. I have been trying to get a job allsummer, but everybody says I am too young and small. I take all theexercise I can, so as to make me grow, and that's one reason why Ipitched into them city chaps and laid 'em out."
"Well, Ben, you know where the office of the Western Union is; comearound there to-morrow morning, at eight o'clock, and I will give yousomething to do."
"Oh, I'm very thankful to you, sir, and this will make my mother thehappiest woman in Damietta."
I saw tears in the bright eyes, as Ben ran home to carry the good news tohis mother.
CHAPTER III
THE OFFICE BOY
When I approached the office the next morning, little Ben Mayberry wasstanding outside, smiling and expectant.
My heart was touched when I saw what pains his mother had taken to puther boy in presentable shape. He had on a pair of coarse shoes, carefullyblacked, and a new, cheap hat replaced the dilapidated one of the daybefore. He wore a short coat and a vest, which must have served him ashis Sunday suit for a long time, as they were much too small for him.
But there was a cleanly, neat look about him which attracted me at once.His face was as rosy as an apple, and his large, white teeth were assound as new silver dollars. His dark hair, which was inclined to becurly, was cut short, and the ill-fitting clothes could not conceal thesymmetry of his growing figure.
"Well, Ben," said I cheerily, as I shook his hand, "I am glad to see youare here on time. You are young, you know, but are old enough to make astart. As I expect you to reach the top of the ladder, I mean that youshall begin at the bottom round."
I am not sure he understood this figurative language, but I made it clearto him the next minute.
"You are to be here every morning before seven o'clock, to sweep out theoffice and make it ready for business. You must see that all thespittoons are cleaned, that the ink wells at the desk are provided withink, that the pens are good enough for use (I never yet have seen apublic office where the writing facilities were not wretched), abundanceof blanks on hand, and that everything is tidied up. In summer, you mustwash off the ice and place it in the cooler, and in winter, see that thefires are going and the office comfortable at the time we go there forbusiness. Can you do it, Ben?"
"Yes, sir, and glad to have the chance."
"This will give you some opportunity to attend the public school, which,of course, you will take advantage of. Then, when you can, you will beginto study telegraphy. I will see that you have every chance, and, at thesame time, I will give you a lift now and then in your studies. This isthe first step, Ben; in this country anything
is possible to the boy whohas brains, pluck, and application. Everything now depends on yourself;with the help of Heaven you will succeed; if you fail, it will be yourown fault. To-day you start on your career, which will lead to successand happiness or to failure and misery."
Ben listened respectfully to what I said, and seemed impressed by mywords. I took him inside the office, explained to him more particularlyhis duties, gave him a key with which to enter in the morning, and toldhim to be on hand at six o'clock on the morrow, until which time he wasexcused. His wages were to be two dollars a week, to begin from the dayon which I engaged him. Ben raised his hat, bade me good-day, and wenthome, and I am sure there was no happier boy in Damietta than he.
It goes without saying that he attended to his duties faithfully from thevery first. He went to the public school when he could gain the chance. Ilearned that he was a favorite there, on account of his manliness andexcellent scholarship. In conjunction with the principal we arranged togive him private instruction at night, so that during the day he coulddevote his energies to learning telegraphy, in which he displayed greataptitude.
As I was manager of the office, it was in my power to advance Ben asrapidly as circumstances warranted. He was given to understand from thefirst that he would be assisted to the extent to which he proved himselfdeserving, and no further. I did not intend to spoil him by undue favors,nor did I allow him to see how much I really thought of him. One of thesurest means of ruining a boy is by partiality and too rapid advancement;but I gave him an encouraging word now and then, and took pains to lethis mother know that he was meeting my high expectations, and that he wasfully worthy of the hopes she entertained of him.
