"I have a bill of thirty-five pounds currency in New York, which I have no doubt can be collected readily--could you collect it for me?" "I will do it with pleasure," replied Benjamin. "You can collect and keep it until I write what disposition to make of it. I am not quite certain just now." "Very well; I will hold it subject to your direction." "And I will give you an order for the money, which will be necessary." "Yes, I suppose that is the business way." His stay in Newport was very brief. On returning to the sloop in season to sail, he found that several passengers had been taken on board from that town. Among them was a motherly sort of a Quaker lady, and, also, two young women traveling together. Benjamin was a polite young man, and sought to be of service to them. The old Quaker lady was attended by two servants, yet Benjamin found an opportunity to be of some service to her, and she appreciated his kindness. Nor was he indifferent towards the two young women. He made their acquaintance, and showed them some attention; and they, in turn, showed him attention, with interest. The Quaker lady looked on, understanding the situation better than he did; and finally she called him aside, by some kind of a motion, and said: "Young man, beware of those girls, or they will lead you astray." "How so?" inquired Benjamin, considerably surprised. "They are bad girls, and thee is not much acquainted with the ways of the world." "You are right, madam; I am not much acquainted with the women world, and I dare say they might easily lead me astray." Benjamin did not exactly believe what the Quakeress said, but he was a little given to humor, and so he spoke as he did. "It is a serious matter, young man; thee may depend on that. I know that they are bad girls by their actions. They mean to set a snare for thee." "Well, I assure you that I will not fall into it. They have not caught me yet." "And I hope they won't," added the good lady. "If I were in your place I would cut their acquaintance at once. And she stated some things she had observed of their acts, and a remark one of them made, all of which convinced Benjamin that she was right. "I thank you for your interest," said Benjamin "I will not keep up an acquaintance with them, but will follow your advice." The good lady kept her eye on Benjamin, and so did the girls. The latter plied their arts with considerable ingenuity to lure him on, but his eyes were opened now, and he avoided them as much as he could. Before reaching New York, however, the girls managed to inform him where they lived, and gave him a very pressing invitation to call. The outcome was as follows, given in his own language, as related in his "Autobiography":