The next thing was to buy a new suit of clothes. Usually Ben had procured his outfit in Chatham Street, but he soared higher now. He made his way to a large ready-made clothing warehouse on Broadway, and entered. The main apartment was spacious, the counters were heaped with articles of dress, and numerous clerks were ready to wait upon customers.
"Well, what's wanted?" asked one, glancing superciliously at the ragged boy entering.
"Have you got any clothes that will fit me?" asked Ben.
"I guess you've lost your way, Johnny, haven't you?"
"What makes you think so?" asked Ben.
"This isn't Chatham Street."
"Thank you for the information," said Ben. "I thought it was when I saw you here."
There was a laugh, at the clerk's expense, among those who heard the retort.
"What are you here for, any way?" demanded the clerk, with an air of insulted majesty.
"To buy some clothes," said Ben; "but you needn't show 'em to me. I'll go to somebody else."