He had his followers and
sycophants, but we may be sure that Ben was not numbered among them.
It was quite useless for Sam to patronize him-he would not be
patronized, but persisted in treating the major's son with the most
exasperating familiarity. Of course this would be impossible if he
became Sam's servant, and this more than anything else was the
motive of the young aristocrat in wishing to engage him. As to
conferring a favor on Ben, that was the last thing in his thoughts.
Sam bent his steps toward the humble home of Job Stanton, but he did
not have to go the whole distance. He met Ben with a fishing-pole
over his shoulder.
"How are you, Sam?" was Ben's familiar greeting. "Want to go fishing
with me?"
"He's entirely too familiar," thought Sam. "I'll cure him of that
when he is under my orders."
At present Sam did not think it politic to express his feelings on
the subject. Ben was so independent that it might frustrate his
plan.
"I will walk along with you, Ben," said Sam condescendingly.
"All right. Haven't you got a fishing-pole at home?"
"Yes, I have a very handsome one; it cost five dollars."
"Then it's rather ahead of mine," said Ben.
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