boys younger than he, who, rising in the morning, knew not where their
meals were to come from, or whether they were to have any; but this had
never been his case.

"I am young and strong," thought Ben. "Why can't I find something to
do?"

His greatest anxiety was to work, and earn his living somehow; but how
did not seem clear. Even if he were willing to turn boot-black, he had
no box nor brush, and had some doubts whether he should at first possess
the requisite skill. Selling papers struck him more favorably; but here
again the want of capital would be an objection.

So, in a very perplexed frame of mind, our young adventurer went on his
way, and after a while caught sight of the upper end of the City Hall
Park. Here he felt himself at home, and, entering, looked among the
dozens of boys who were plying their work to see if he could not find
his acquaintance Jerry. But here he was unsuccessful. Jerry's business
stand was near the Cortlandt Street pier.

Hour after hour passed, and Ben became more and more hungry and
dispirited. He felt thoroughly helpless. There seemed to be nothing that
he could do. He began to be faint, and his head ached. One o'clock
found him on Nassau Street, near the corner of Fulton. There was a stand
for the sale of cakes and pies located here, presided over by an old
woman, of somewhat ample dimensions. This stall had a fascination for
poor Ben. He had such a craving for food that he could not take his eyes
off the tempting pile of cakes which were heaped up before him. It
seemed to him that he should be perfectly happy if he could be permitted
to eat all he wanted of them.

Ben knew that it was wrong to steal. He had never in his life taken what
did not belong to him, which is more than many boys can say, who have
been brought up even more comfortably than he. But the temptation now
was very strong. He knew it was not right; but he was not without
excuse. Watching his opportunity, he put his hand out quickly, and,
seizing a couple of pies, stowed them away hastily in his pocket, and
was about moving off to eat them in some place where he would not be
observed. But though the owner of the stolen articles had not observed
the theft, there was a boy hanging about the stall, possibly with the
same object in view, who did see it.

"He's got some of your pies, old lady," said the young detective.

The old woman looked round, and though the pies were in Ben's pocket
there was a telltale in