determined, therefore, to get rid of their victims by strategy instead of force. One of their “cappers” offered to lead the way to the police station where they might get assistance in recovering the money. He did lead the way, but it is unnecessary to add that there were not a great many police stations in the neighborhood to which he conducted them. The Hebrew perhaps thought that he had made one of the fattest “hauls” in his life; but it turned out to be a very dear job.

Young Ben, although a mere child, marked the man who had robbed his father, and resolved to be avenged. Three or four years afterward, he returned to New York, and after days of diligent search he discovered the Hebrew.

“That is the man!” he muttered to himself.

With two or three trusty companions, he resolved upon a plan of action which he proceeded to carry out.

The next day Ben called upon the Jew in his shop. He represented himself to be an employee of the Emigrant Department. He said that a great many chances came to him of making money, but he wanted a confederate. Would the Jew like to have him (Hogan) bring emigrants to the shop with plenty of money in their pockets? It wouldn’t be of much consequence how they got out of the shop!

“Dat vas a fine idea—a very fine idea!” answered the old vulture, rubbing his bony hands together. “You brings ’em in, and I’ll take care of how they goes out. And together ve’ll take care of all their gold!”

That night Ben called again at the shop and told the Jew that a very green young emigrant was waiting to take a walk along the docks.

“He’s got piles of money on him!” added Hogan.

The old Jew accordingly set forth with the green young emigrant. As a matter of fact, this verdant youth was one of Hogan’s companions; and the “piles of money” which Ben had described consisted of lumps of lead put into a bag, after the emigrant fashion.

Fate is a curious thing in this world. That old Hebrew, for instance, started forth from his shop on the night in question, intent upon robbing the green young emigrant and throwing his body into the river. But he didn’t carry out his plans. Perhaps he retired from his South street den. Perhaps he concluded to take a tour to Jerusalem; or perhaps he went to Canada; or perhaps his foot tripped, and he fell into the East river. Whatever his fate, he didn’t rob any more emigrants of their hard-earned savings.

Relieved of his gold, the senior Hogan, with his family, removed to Syracuse, N. Y., which city he made his permanent home. The family was not by any means rich in this world’s goods, and it became necessary for Ben to do something toward his own support. His first venture at money-making was in the line of a peddler. His father bought him an outfit—the horse could not trot under thirty, but he did very well to draw a peddler’s cart—costing, in all, twenty-five dollars. The young peddler’s first day was not altogether successful. He made a number of sales and exchanges, but when he came to balance his accounts he found that he was four dollars out of pocket. The next day, however, he did better, and at the end of six months he had cleared seventy-five dollars.

It may be well to remark here, that, from his earliest boyhood, Ben Hogan has possessed the faculty of making money. He never saved any, because he is too open handed to take any thought of the morrow. But, if he has not saved, he has rarely wanted. His ingenuity and quick wit have invariably “made a raise,” and prevented him from remaining “broke” any length of time.

Among the experiences of this epoch in his career was one which resulted somewhat seriously for our hero. It was found out by a companion that there was a big house near the city occupied by a minister, who had a large collection of books; in these books were many fine engravings, and it occurred to this youngster that if he could get hold of these pictures he might make his fortune by exhibiting them. It was plain that the books would not come to him, and he accordingly concluded to go to the books. For obvious reasons he did not ring the front-door bell, nor leave his card behind him. He found it more convenient to go through the window. In a wagon which he had brought with him for the purpose, he carted off a large number of valuable volumes, tore out the pictures, and threw the books away, telling Ben he had bought the pictures.

Ben Hogan’s career as a showman may be said to have begun when he first exhibited these engravings which had embellished the library of the clergyman. They were steel engravings, which perhaps was why they were stolen. The adventure proved a success while it lasted, but it didn’t last very long. At one and two cents admission the gallery was crowded; but at the very opening of a prosperous season the youthful manager was arrested. This naturally interfered with the show. Although the boy had not really committed anything like a crime here, he was sent to the penitentiary, where he remained thirty days.

Upon his release he went to work in his father’s cabinet shop, but was not wholly contented there. The roving spirit within him began thus early to develop itself. Among Ben’s acquaintances at this time were a couple of choice young spirits known in Syracuse as Joe Heizler and “Red Jacket.” Probably the owner of this latter distinctive appellation had been christened by some other name, but he was known always and only as Red Jacket. The three boys determined upon setting forth from home and finding out what the world was beyond the salt limits of Onondaga county. Accordingly they got together their limited capital, and without troubling themselves to check their trunks, started for Oswego.

They reached that flour-y and flourishing town with fifty cents in their pockets, failed to get a very cordial reception from Landlord Hartmann, and proceeded to look about for work. Ben was the only one of the trio who had pluck and energy enough to succeed. He found employment on board of a schooner lying in port, and by working like a beaver, earned enough to support his companions. Finding that board bills would be inconvenient to settle, it occurred to Ben that housekeeping would be more economical. Neither a house nor furniture bothered him so much as a stove with which to prepare the meals. He finally mustered up courage to go into a hardware store and tell the proprietor that he would rather have a stove than any amount of stock in an insurance company.

“What do you want a stove for?” asked the astonished merchant.

“To keep house with!” was the prompt reply. “If you will trust me for that stove, I’ll pay you as sure as I live!”

The earnest manner of the boy had its effect upon the merchant, who not only let Ben have the stove, but provided him with a small house on the outskirts of the town, where the three companions took up their residence. Ben not only earned all the money, but he was housekeeper and cook as well. How long they might thus have lived must remain a conundrum, for the household was abruptly broken up one day by the appearance of a policeman, who took the runaways back to Syracuse.

Ben was again put to work in his father’s shop, but the restraint of the place led to frequent eruptions, and finally, with a view to breaking his refractory spirit, he was sent to the House of Refuge in Rochester. He remained there three months.

The reader will pardon a brief interruption in the narrative while the writer gives expression to some opinions concerning Houses of Refuge and other similar institutions. Mr. Hogan believes—and his belief, I think, will be shared by all who give the subject careful attention—that, as at