So the boys walked along the street until they came to the pier referred to. There was a barge loaded with hay, lying alongside the wharf. Jerry speedily provided himself with a resting-place upon it, and Ben followed his example. It proved to be quite as comfortable, if not more so, than their former bed, and both boys were soon asleep. How long he slept Ben did not know, but he was roused to consciousness by a rude shake.
"Wake up there!" said a voice.
Ben opened his eyes, and saw a laboring man bending over him.
"Is it time to get up?" he inquired, hardly conscious where he was.
"I should think it was, particularly as you haven't paid for your lodging."
"Where's Jerry?" asked Ben, missing the boot-black.
The fact was, that Jerry, whose business required him to be astir early, had been gone over an hour. He had not felt it necessary to wake up Ben, knowing that the latter had nothing in particular to call him up.
"I don't know anything about Jerry. You'd better be going home, young 'un. Take my advice, and don't stay out another night."
He evidently thought that Ben was a truant from home, as his dress would hardly class him among the homeless boys who slept out from necessity.
Ben scrambled upon the pier, and took a cross street up towards Broadway. He had slept off his fatigue, and the natural appetite of a healthy boy began to assert itself. It was rather uncomfortable to reflect that he was penniless, and had no means of buying a breakfast. He had meant to ask Jerry's advice, as to some occupation by which he could earn a little money, and felt disappointed that his companion had gone away before he waked up. His appetite was the greater because he had been limited to a single apple for supper.