"About what?" "I have two or three errands in the lower part of the city, which, as my time is limited, I should like to attend to at once." "You had better do it, then." "What I was thinking was, that it would not be worth while for you to go round with me, carrying the baggage." "Couldn't I go right up to Cousin Mary's?" asked his son. "I am afraid you might lose the way." "This boy will go with me. I suppose he knows the way all about the city. Don't you?" he asked, turning to Ben. "Where do you want to go?" asked Ben. "To No.--Madison Avenue." "Yes, I can show you the way there well enough, but it's a good way off." "You can both take the cars or stage when you get up to the Astor House." "How will that do?" asked Charles, for this was his name. "I think that will be the best plan. This boy can go with you, and you can settle with him for his services. Have you got money enough?" "Yes, plenty." "I will leave you here, then." Left to themselves, it was natural that the two boys should grow social. So far as clothing went, there was certainly a wide difference between them. Ben was attired as described in the first chapter. Charles, on the other hand, wore a short sack of dark cloth, a white vest, and gray pants. A gold chain, depending from his watch-pocket, showed that he was the possessor of a watch. His whole appearance was marked by neatness and good taste. But, leaving out this difference, a keen observer might detect a considerable resemblance in the features of the two boys. Both had dark hair, black eyes, and the contour of the face was the same. I regret to add, however, that Ben's face was not so clean as it ought to have been. Among the articles contributed by the boys who lived in the room under the wharf, a washstand had not been considered necessary, and it had been long since Ben had regarded washing the face and hands as the first preparation for the labors of the day. Charles Marston looked at his companion with some interest and curiosity. He had never lived in New York, and there was a freshness and novelty about life in the metropolis that was attractive to him. "Is this your business?" he asked. "What,--smashin' baggage?" inquired Ben. "Is that what you call it?" "Yes." "Well, is that what you do for a living?" "Yes," said Ben. "It's my profession, when I aint attendin' to my duties as a member of the Common Council." "So you're a member of the city government?" asked Charles, amused. "Yes." "Do you have much to do that way?" "I'm one of the Committee on Wharves," said Ben. "It's my business to see that they're right side up with care; likewise that nobody runs away with them in the night." "How do you get paid?" "Well, I earn my lodgin' that way just now," said Ben. "Have you always been in this business?" "No. Sometimes I've sold papers." "How did you like that?" "I like baggage-smashin' best, when I get enough to do. You don't live in the city, do you?"