“But, Frank, it is only fair that I should pay it.”
“We can afford to give it up. Why, with five thousand dollars a year we shall feel like millionaires.”
“And with forty thousand dollars I shall be very rich for a Bowery newsboy.”
“It will only yield an income of two thousand dollars a year, and we shall have five thousand. Say no more, Ben; I will speak to my mother and we will arrange matters with Mr. Basil Wentworth. We can afford to be as generous as he is.”
To anticipate a little, Mrs. Mordaunt cordially agreed to Frank’s proposal and Ben received the entire fortune of his benefactress without incumbrance.
On the Fulton ferryboat Frank called attention to a boy sitting near, who was dudishly dressed, and appeared to have a very high opinion of himself.
“Do you see that boy, Ben?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I know him well. He lives only a block from us, but in a much better house. He looks down upon me as a poor newsboy, and when he speaks to me it is in a tone of lofty condescension.”
“What is his name?”