Jacob Winter felt, though he hardly liked to confess it, that but for Ben he would have been the loser of five hundred dollars. He was not a liberal man, but he determined to make some acknowledgment of his stepson’s services.

Accordingly, when he had returned from the savings bank, he drew a twenty-five cent piece from his pocket and handed it to Ben with the remark: “Benjamin, you have behaved very well. Here is a quarter for you. Be keerful not to spend it foolishly.”

Ben was considerably surprised. It was the first gift he ever remembered to have received from his stepfather, and he hardly knew whether to be amused or grateful.

If he accepted it, he knew that Mr. Winter would feel that he had squared up his obligations. But Ben preferred to leave the matter open. So he quickly decided not to accept the money.

“Thank you, Mr. Winter,” he said, “but I would rather not take it.” “You refuse money!” exclaimed Jacob in amazement.

“Yes, sir. I only did my duty.”

“I guess you’d better take it. Quarters don’t grow on every bush.”

“They don’t for me, Mr. Winter,” said Ben smiling. “I’m just as much obliged, but I would rather not take any money for what I’ve done. It was good fun.”

“Good fun!” ejaculated his stepfather. “It isn’t my idea of fun to have a ruffian try to rob me.”

“Well, he didn’t make much out of his attempt. I don’t care for the money, Mr. Winter, but I’ll ask something else instead.”

“What is it?” asked Jacob cautiously.

“I want to leave the farm and go to New York.”

“Go to New York! You—a mere boy! What do you want to go to New York for?”

“I want to get work.”

“There’s plenty of work here, Benjamin.”

“I know there is, but it isn’t the kind I like. I should never be a successful farmer.”

“It wasn’t exactly the farmin’ business I meant to put you to.”

“What then?” asked Ben, whose turn it was to be surprised. “Silas Flack has made an offer to take you and teach you the shoemakin’ business. I did at first think of havin’ you work on the farm, but I guess you might as well learn the shoemakin’?”

“When did he make the offer, Mr. Winter?”

“Day afore yesterday.”

“And why didn’t you speak to me about it before?”

“You’re too young to know what’s good for yourself.”

“But I have no wish to learn shoemaking.”

“Boys like you don’t seem to realize that they must earn their livin’.”

“I am ready to earn my living, but I want to have something to say about the way I am to earn it. I intend to make my living in New York.”

“I can’t let you go. I’ve given my word to Silas Flack.”

Ben was exasperated, but they had reached the farm, and he concluded to take a short time to think over his stepfather’s proposal. One thing he determined upon, and that was to see Mr. Flack and find out what negotiations had passed between the shoemaker and Mr. Winter.

In the middle of the afternoon, being sent on an errand, he went a little out of his way to visit Silas Flack’s shop. It was a tiny place, for Silas did business only in a small way. Entering the shop he began:

“Good day, Mr. Flack.”

“Good day, Ben,” answered the shoemaker, resting his eye approvingly on Ben’s sturdy frame and bright, honest face.

“I called to see what proposal you made to Mr. Winter about me,” said Ben abruptly. “You promised to teach me the business, didn’t you?”

“Yes; I agreed to take you till you were twenty-one.”

“And Mr. Winter thought favorable of it, did he?”

“Yes; he said you might come.”

“What benefit is Mr. Winter to get out of it?” asked Ben.

“How old be you now?”

“Fifteen.”

“Well, I agreed to take care of you till you were twenty-one, and pay him fifty dollars a year over and above for your services. Seems to me that’s a fair offer.”

“Oho!” thought Ben, “now I understand. It’s the fifty dollars a year that Jacob Winter is after. Money is his idol, and he expects to make about three hundred dollars out of me.” “Did Mr. Winter tell you I would come?” he asked after a pause.

“Yes; he said it struck him favorable.”

“But I don’t like the business, Mr. Flack.”

“That’s only a boy’s idee. You may as well make your livin’ that way as any other.”

“When did Mr. Winter say I could begin?”

“The first week in September.”

“That’s the time the high school commences. I was expecting to attend there.”

“Jacob Winter thinks you’ve got eddication enough. You’ve got as much as he or I.”

“Didn’t you ever think you would like to know more than you do, Mr. Flack?”

“What’s the good? I know enough for my business, and I’m gen’rally respected in town. I’ve been selec’man once, and I’m overseer of the poor now.”

Ben smiled. He saw that Mr. Flack was well satisfied with his success in life, but he felt within himself yearnings and aspirations which probably were unknown to the shoemaker.

“Well, good day, Mr. Flack!” he said after a brief pause.

“Good day, Ben! I guess you and me will get along well. I’ve heard that you are good to work, and I’ll do the right thing by you. Besides what I promised your stepfather, I’ll give you a new suit of clothes when you are twenty-one, and after that you can get good wages, as much as a dollar-fifty per day likely.”

“I’ll think over what you have said, Mr. Flack,” said Ben gravely.

He turned and left the shop. He felt that he had reached an important point in his life. He resented the utter selfishness which actuated his stepfather in thus mapping out his future life, dooming him to an uncongenial occupation for the paltry sum of fifty dollars a year paid to himself.

Had Jacob Winter been a poor man, there would have been some excuse for his course, but he was far from being poor. There were no very rich men in Wrayburn, but he was one of the most prominent in the amount of his worldly possessions.

Moreover, he had managed to get into his possession the two thousand dollars belonging to his mother. And it was for a paltry fifty dollars a year that Ben was to be deprived of the advantages of a high-school education.

“It’s a shame!” he cried hotly.

“What’s a shame, Ben?”

Turning around Ben recognized in the speaker his friend, Albert Graham. “Was I speaking aloud?” Ben asked.

“Yes, and with considerable emphasis. What is it all about?”

“I find my precious stepfather has agreed to bind me apprentice to Silas Flack, the shoemaker, in consideration of fifty dollars a year paid to him annually till I am twenty-one.”

“You don’t mean it, Ben?”

“Yes, it’s true. Mr. Winter told me himself, though he didn’t speak of the fifty dollars. That was told me by Mr. Flack.”

“I don’t wonder you call it a shame,” said Albert warmly.

“That is why Mr. Winter isn’t willing to have me attend the high school; that wouldn’t bring him in any money.”

“I see. Have you told your mother about it yet?”

“No, but I shall as soon as I go home.”

“Then you are to grow up a shoemaker, Ben?”

“Not much,” exclaimed Ben decidedly. “Mr. Winter hasn’t got my consent.”

“What will you do?”

“Go to New York.”

“Won’t he try to stop you?”

“Perhaps so,” said Ben quietly, “but I shall go all the same.” “Well, I can’t blame you, Ben. You weren’t cut out for a shoemaker.”

“Nor for a farmer either. I feel that I must take the responsibility into my own hands.”

“When are you going to start and what are your plans?”

“I shall start as soon as I can. I find that I can go to New York from Boston for a dollar, and I shall never have any better chance.”

“You will take the five dollars I offered you, Ben?”

“Yes, Albert, as a loan, and thank you for your friendly aid. If ever I can do you a favor I will.”

In reply Albert held out his hand, and the two boys interchanged a hearty grasp.

“Well, Ben, you have my best wishes, you know that. You will be sure to write me?”

“Yes, Albert. I will write to you and to my mother.”

Ben had a conference with his mother and obtained her consent to his plan. She was as angry as he at the cold-blooded selfishness of her husband.

“I don’t know whether it’s best or not, Ben,” she said, “but there seems to be no other way. I begin to see my folly now in marrying Jacob Winter.” “In a few years, mother, I hope you can leave him and come to live with me.”

The next morning when Mr. Winter went up to Ben’s attic chamber to call him, he found that the bird had flown.