Ben felt grateful for the kindness of his tone. He saw that he was not condemned unheard, but had a chance of clearing himself.
He explained, briefly, how it occurred. Of course it is unnecessary to give his account, for we know all about it already.
"I believe you," said Mr. Sampson, in a friendly tone. "The only fault I have to find with you is that you might have been more careful in guarding your pockets."
"That's so," said Ben; "but I don't often carry anything that's worth stealing."
"No, I suppose not," said Mr. Sampson, smiling. "Well, it appears that no serious loss has occurred. The money will be recovered, as it is in the hands of the authorities. As to the delay, that is merely an inconvenience; but the most serious inconvenience falls upon you, in your being brought here."
"I don't mind that as long as the money is safe," said Ben. "It'll all be right in the morning."
"I see you are a philosopher. I see your face is swelled. You must have got a blow."
"Yes," said Ben; "the chap that took my letter left me something to remember him by."
"I shall try to make it up to you," said Mr. Sampson. "I can't stop any longer, but I will be present at your trial, and my testimony will undoubtedly clear you."
He took his leave, leaving Ben considerably more cheerful than before. A station-house is not a very agreeable place of detention; but then Ben was not accustomed to luxury, and the absence of comfort did not trouble him much. He cared more for the loss of his liberty, finding the narrow cell somewhat too restricted for enjoyment. However, he consoled himself by reflecting, to use his favorite phrase, that it would "all be right in the morning."