Reuben's father and the other men came up a little later, and found Reuben exhausted and shaken, but not seriously hurt. The thieves made good their escape. Reuben could not identify them. He believed the man who had attacked him to be a low, villainous tramp, who of late had been hanging about the village, but he could not be sure. The thieves had certainly shown little skill in their evil calling. The incident of that night made Reuben somewhat of a hero in the eyes of the villagers. The owner of the fruit was pleased with him, and praised his courage. Exaggerated reports of his prowess spread through the village. It was said that he had knocked down the first robber who approached him, and the others, affrighted, had instantly fled. Reuben smiled when he heard these tales. "Far from knocking any one down, I got knocked down myself," he said. "All I did was to whistle for father. It was not likely I should see those rogues take Mr. Brown's fruit and hold my tongue. I was bound to raise an alarm." "You got knocked about for it, though." "Well, yes; I got a few blows, but what of that? The fellow did not kill me, though I thought he meant to." Reuben's midnight adventure was, however, destined to exert a considerable influence on his fortunes. It drew to him the attention of a gentleman who had taken a house at Ashworth for the summer. This gentleman was the chief partner of a firm of metal-workers in Birmingham. He became interested in the lad, and would sometimes stop to speak to him when they met in the roads. He thought he discerned good intelligence and certain sturdy sterling qualities beneath the lad's quiet, somewhat uninteresting exterior. He questioned him concerning his occupation, and found that it was not entirely to Reuben's mind. He could have desired something better than to be a field labourer all his days, but he saw no other prospect before him. He was greatly surprised when the gentleman offered him a place in his factory—a humble place, it is true, but with a higher wage than he was earning at Ashworth. "Of course it means leaving home," Mr. Akenside said; "you'll have to get a lodging near the works. Your parents won't like your going away, perhaps." "Maybe not, sir. I don't know as my mother could spare me," Reuben replied, "but I'll see. I'd like it well enough myself." Indeed, the thought of going to Birmingham thrilled him with a novel excitement. Though Ashworth was but about twenty miles from Birmingham, and Reuben was a lad of eighteen, he had never but once been to the great city. He had not forgotten the day he spent there and his wondering vision of the bustling streets, the great houses, the eager, busy people everywhere. The idea of town life had its fascination for him, as it had for Owen Grant, one of Reuben's fellow-scholars, who had just left home to fill a situation in the great manufacturing centre. He had laughingly advised Reuben to follow him, and "see life a bit."