“I know what I owe ’em, and you and me will work out that debt before we die, or our name isn’t B.B.,” said Mr. Brown, with an emphatic slap on his knee, which Ben imitated half unconsciously as he exclaimed heartily: 

“That’s so!” adding, more quietly, “What are you going to do now?  Go back to Smithers and the old work?”

“Not likely, after the way he treated you, Sonny.  I’ve had it out with him, and he wont want to see me again in a hurry,” answered Mr. Brown, with a sudden kindling of the eye that reminded Bab of Ben’s face when he shook her after losing Sancho.

“There’s more circuses than his in the world; but I’ll have to limber out ever so much before I’m good for much in that line,” said the boy, stretching his stout arms and legs with a curious mixture of satisfaction and regret.

“You’ve been living in clover and got fat, you rascal,” and his father gave him a poke here and there, as Mr. Squeers did the plump Wackford, when displaying him as a specimen of the fine diet at Do-the-boys Hall.  “Don’t believe I could put you up now if I tried, for I haven’t got my strength back yet, and we are both out of practice.  It’s just as well, for I’ve about made up my mind to quit the business and settle down somewhere for a spell, if I can get anything to do,” continued the rider, folding his arms and gazing thoughtfully into the fire.

“I shouldn’t wonder a mite if you could right here, for Mr. Towne has a great boarding-stable over yonder, and he’s always wanting men,” said Mrs. Moss, eagerly, for she dreaded to have Ben go, and no one could forbid it if his father chose to take him away.

“That sounds likely.  Thanky, ma’am.  I’ll look up the concern and try my chance.  Would you call it too great a come-down to have father an ’ostler after being first rider in the ’Great Golden Menagerie, Circus, and Colosseum,’ hey Ben?” asked Mr. Brown, quoting the well-remembered show-bill with a laugh.

“No, I shouldn’t; it’s real jolly up there when the big barn is full and eighty horses have to be taken care of.  I love to go and see ’em.  Mr. Towne asked me to come and be stable-boy when I rode the kicking gray the rest were afraid of.  I hankered to go, but Miss Celia had just got my new books, and I knew she’d feel bad if I gave up going to school.  Now I’m glad I didn’t, for I get on first rate and like it.”

“You done right, boy, and I’m pleased with you.  Don’t you ever be ungrateful to them that befriended you, if you want to prosper.  I’ll tackle the stable business a Monday and see what’s to be done.  Now I ought to be walking, but I’ll be round in the morning, ma’am, if you can spare Ben for a spell to-morrow.  We’d like to have a good Sunday tramp and talk; wouldn’t we, Sonny?” and Mr. Brown rose to go, with his hand on Ben’s shoulder, as if loth to leave him even for the night.

Mrs. Moss saw the longing in his face, and forgetting that he was an utter stranger, spoke right out of her hospitable heart.