Of course Mr. Porter, senior, had to be consulted. Though not a little doubtful about the expediency of sending so young a representative of the house, he finally gave his consent, which was communicated to Ben.
Ben was summoned to the countingroom, and received his instructions, with a sum of money for expenses. At three o'clock in the afternoon he was dismissed, though he was not to start till the next morning.
Old Mr. Benton's door was open when Ben returned.
"What brings you home so soon?" he inquired.
"I am going to Montreal," said Ben.
"Come in and tell me about it."
The old man, clad in a ragged dressing-gown, was sitting in a rocking-chair by the fire. The day was not cold, but his blood was thin, and he felt the need of some artificial heat. He was smoking a common clay pipe.
"Isn't this sudden—your going to Montreal?" asked Mr. Benton.
"Yes, sir; I think young Mr. Porter has made business there in order to give a chance to go?"
"What do you mean to do?"