THE BATTLE OF LIFE
After all the elaborate preparations for the capture of the burglars, the
whole business had fallen so flat that the officers of the law themselves
laughed at the farcical termination. Nothing criminal was attempted, and
Damietta never was more peaceful in all its history than it was during
the many weeks and months which followed.
And yet, in spite of all this, there could be no question that such a
burglarious scheme at one time was contemplated. The cipher telegrams,
and the surveillance to which Ben Mayberry was subjected, together with
the attempted assault upon him, made this too manifest to be disputed.
"They simply discovered the preparations made by the authorities," I said
to Ben, "and they had prudence enough to withdraw."
"Do you believe they have given it up altogether?"
"I doubt it. They have simply deferred the execution until some safer
time. We must continue to be on the lookout for telegrams in cipher.
These gentry have evil designs upon Damietta, as will be proven before we
are many years older."
When Ben Mayberry reached the age of fifteen, he attained an important
epoch in his life. He had long been one of the most skillful operators in
the district, being remarkably quick and accurate.
I have told enough to prove his courteous disposition toward all who
entered our office. The pretended Mr. Jones, who acted the part of the
ignorant farmer, was, as I have stated, a high official of the company,
who took odd means to test the character and skill of our employees. The
test in the case of young Mayberry proved most satisfactory in every
respect.
At my request, I was transferred to one of the cities in the Eastern
States, where the climate agreed better with me. I was given charge of an
important office, an advance made in my wages, and everything was done to
make the change agreeable. Such being the fact, it is no assumption on my
part to say that my administration of the exacting duties in Damietta had
been fully appreciated by my superior officers.
Ben Mayberry was made manager of the office in his native city at a
salary of seventy-five dollars per month. This statement the reader may
doubt, for I am quite certain that no telegraphist of his age was ever
given such an important charge, nor is anyone so young paid such a
liberal salary; but, did I feel at liberty to do so, I could locate Ben
Mayberry so closely that all skeptics could ascertain the facts, in a
brief time, precisely as I have given them.
We have many office managers, in different parts of the country, who lack
several years of their majority; but, as a rule, their stations are not
very important, and their pay is nothing like what Ben received. There
were exceptional circumstances in his case. He was unusually bright, he
was very attentive, he was courteous, cheerful, and never shirked work.
He was popular with our patrons, and much of the increase in the business
of the Damietta office was due to Ben alone. This became known to those
above him, and they felt that an unusual promotion on his part would not
only be a just recognition of his ability and devotion, but would do much
to stimulate others to imitate the good example set by the boy.
In addition to all this, it cannot be denied that fortune favored Ben in
a marked degree. The fact that he was swept down the river in the
darkness and tempest, while trying to deliver a telegram for a messenger
who was ill, and that he saved the life of a little girl, could not fail
to operate strongly to his benefit. But he would have reached the end all
the same, without these aids, just as you, my young friend, may attain
the topmost round by climbing up, up, up, step after step, step after
step.
There is no cup in this life without some drops of bitterness, and,
despite the promotion of Ben, which he fully appreciated, he was cast
down by another circumstance, which troubled him more than he would admit
to his closest friends.
He had not seen sweet Dolly Willard since the grand children's party at
Mr. Grandin's, more than two years previous. She had written him
regularly every week for months, and he had been equally prompt in
answering. Ben wrote a beautiful hand, and his missives to Dolly were
long and affectionate. She would have visited her cousins in Damietta,
had they not made a visit to Europe, which shut off the possibility of
her doing so for some time to come.
Ben felt that under the circumstances it was hardly the thing for him to
make a call upon Dolly in New York, though she invited him to do so.
But during the very week that Ben was given charge of the Damietta
office, the mail failed to bring the usual letter from Dolly. He waited
impatiently for several days and then wrote to her. There was no response
to this, and he felt resentful. He held out for a fortnight, and then was
so worried that he was forced to write again. But this was equally
fruitless of results, and he became angry.
"She is getting to be quite a large girl; her folks are wealthy, and she
has begun to realize that I am nothing but a poor telegraphist. Her folks
have told her she must look higher, and she has come to that same mind
herself. Ah, well; let it be so!"
That was expressive of his feelings. Sometimes Ben felt like rebelling
against his fate. He had applied himself hard for years; he possessed an
excellent education; he held a prominent position in the greatest
telegraph company of the country, with a prospect of further advancement
before him, and yet, because he was poor, he was looked down upon by
those who were his inferiors in everything except the single one of
wealth.
"It is a great disappointment," he sometimes murmured, "but I am young;
most folks would laugh that one of my age should take such a fancy to a
little girl like Dolly, and they would say I am certain to get over it
very soon. And just there is where they would all make a great mistake."
And Ben Mayberry was right on that point.