"There, mother, what do you say now?" said Ben, on Saturday night. "Mr. Crawford is going to pay half my expenses, and I am going to buy some goods for him."
"I am glad he reposes so much confidence in you, Ben. I hope you won't lose his money."
"Oh, I don't carry any. He buys on thirty days. All I have to do is to select the goods."
"Perhaps it is for the best that you go, after all," said Mrs. Barclay. "At any rate, I hope so."
At half-past seven o'clock on Monday morning Ben stood on the platform of the Pentonville station, awaiting the arrival of the train.
"Where are you going?" said a voice.
Ben, turning, saw that it was Tom Davenport who had spoken.
"I am going to New York," he answered briefly.
"Has Crawford discharged you?"
"Why do you ask? Would you like to apply for the position?" asked Ben coolly.