Sam Gives Himself Away
Ben was looking with interest at a row of new books when he was
summoned into the private office.
"My young friend," said Mr. Porter, senior, "we are not responsible
for the letter that brought you here."
"No, sir," said Ben. "I am sorry to have troubled you. I'll go home
this afternoon."
He looked sober enough, poor Ben, for it would not be pleasant
facing his aunt and friends in Milltown, and explaining matters.
Even the "licking" which he determined to give Sam Archer, if he
should prove the author of the decoy letter, would be a poor
satisfaction.
"You may as well stay," said Mr. Porter. "My nephew thinks we
can find a place for you in the store."
"Will you really take me?" asked Ben.
"We will try you. My nephew thinks you will suit us."
"Thank you, sir," said Ben warmly.
"Your friend, who wrote the letter, will be rather disappointed, eh?"
said young Porter, smiling.
"Yes," said Ben, who could smile now. "I should like to see him
when he learns that his malicious letter has procured me a
situation.
"What do we pay you Robinson?"
"Six dollars a week."
"Then Benjamin shall have the same. He has no knowledge of the
business, to be sure----"
"I will have soon," said Ben confidently.
"That's right, my lad. Make yourself useful to us, and you won't have
cause to regret it."
He was set to work dusting books, and young Porter went to his own
desk; he was chief bookkeeper.
"When the store closes," he said, "come to me. I shall take you to
my room to-night."
In the evening, at his friend's room, Ben wrote the following letter to
his friend, James Watson:
"Boston, July 18, 19--.
"Dear James: Though I have been only a few hours in Boston I
have a good deal to tell you. You remember my showing you the
letter from Jones & Porter, which induced me to come to the city.
Well, it was a hoax. It didn't come from the firm at all. Somebody
wanted to play a trick on me, and wrote it. I have no doubt Sam
Archer was at the bottom of it. You know what a mean fellow he
is, and that he would like nothing better than to injure me. But I
am glad to say that he has not succeeded. By great good luck I
got acquainted with Mr. Porter's nephew on board the train. I
showed him the letter, which he pronounced probably a forgery.
But he took me to the store--he is head bookkeeper--and
introduced me to his uncle. It seems that there will be a vacancy
at the beginning of next month, and as I was on the ground, they
engaged me. So Sam's mean trick has been the means of obtaining
me a position. He will be provoked enough when he hears it.
Now I will tell you what I want you to do. Don't say a word about
the letter being a hoax. Merely tell the boys that I have got the
place I expected. If Sam wrote the letter he will certainly betray
himself. Keep mum, and lead him on. Then let me know what
you find out. I will write again soon.
"Your affectionate friend,
"Ben Bradford."
"It's a mean trick, and just like Sam," ejaculated James when he
read Ben's letter. "I'll follow Ben's instructions. Sam will be
coming round making inquiries pretty soon. I'll manage him."
James was right in his supposition. Sam eagerly awaited the
upshot of his trick. He concluded that Ben would come back
Monday night depressed and humiliated, and he was on the street
near Ben's house when the afternoon train got in, ready to feast
his eyes on his rival's unhappiness. But he waited in vain.
The next morning, about ten o'clock, he met James Watson on the
street. James had received the letter from Ben the evening
previous.
"How are you, James?" said Sam.
"I'm all right," said James rather coolly.
"Have you heard from Ben Bradford?"
"I heard last night."
"What does he say?' asked Sam eagerly.
"He hadn't been in his situation long enough to tell how he should
like it," answered James.
"Is he in a situation?" demanded Sam in surprise.
"What do you think he went to Boston for?"
"Where is he working?" asked Sam incredulously.
"He is with Jones & Porter, of course. Didn't you know they sent
for him?"
"Ha! ha!" laughed Sam.
"I am on the track," thought James.
"I don't know what you mean," said he quietly. "Jones & Porter sent
for Ben, and he is in their employ."
"I'll bet you a dollar Ben Bradford will be back here within a week,"
said Sam, in a ton of great confidence. "I don't believe Jones &
Porter ever wrote him a letter."
"I saw the letter."
"Suppose you did; it might have been a hoax."
"Then whoever wrote it did Ben a good turn, for he has got a place
at Jones & Porter's."
"I don't believe it," said Sam uneasily.
"Ben writes me that he is there."
"Will you let me see the letter?"
"No, I won't."
"That convinces me that it's all a humbug."
"You think the letter a hoax?"
"Yes, I do."
"What reason have you for thinking so?"
"I decline to state."
"Who do you think wrote it?"
"How should I know?"
"As you know so much, I don't mind telling you that you are right.
The letter was a hoax."
Sam laughed heartily.
"I thought so," he said.
"And I know who wrote it."
Sam didn't laugh now.
"Who?" he asked uncomfortably.
"You did it."
"What do you mean?" blustered Sam.
"Exactly what I say. Otherwise you would have had no reason to
suspect the genuineness of it."
"Does Ben Bradford charge me with it? Just wait till I see him."
"That will be some time unless you go to Boston. Jones &
Porter happened to have a vacancy, and Ben stepped into it.
Your letter got him a place."
"I don't believe it," said Sam faintly.
"It's true, and it's lucky for you. If Ben had been obliged to come
home he would have given you the worst licking you ever had."