"Perhaps you will see him again some time."
"I don't know. I used to think so; but I have about given up hopes of it. It is six years now since he ran away."
"Maybe he's turned bad," said Ben. "S'posin' he was a ragged baggage-smasher like me, you wouldn't care about seein' him, would you?"
"Yes, I would," said Charles, warmly. "I'd be glad to see Ben again, no matter how he looked, or how poor he might be."
Ben looked at his cousin with a glance of wistful affection. Street boy as he was, old memories had been awakened, and his heart had been touched by the sight of the cousin whom he had most loved when a young boy.
"And I might be like him," thought Ben, looking askance at the rags in which he was dressed, "instead of a walkin' rag-bag. I wish I was;" and he suppressed a sigh.
It has been said that street boys are not accessible to the softer emotions; but Ben did long to throw his arm round his cousin's neck in the old, affectionate way of six years since. It touched him to think that Charlie held him in affectionate remembrance. But his thoughts were diverted by noticing that they had reached the Astor House.
"I guess we'd better cross the street, and take the Fourth Avenue cars," he said. "There's one over there."
"All right!" said Charles. "I suppose you know best."
There was a car just starting; they succeeded in getting aboard, and were speedily on their up town.