Chapter 1 Ben Barclay Meets A Tramp
      "Give me a ride?"
     Ben authentic damier canvas bags for cheap Barclay checked the horse he was driving and looked attentively at the speaker. He was a stout-built, dark-complexioned man, with a beard of a week's growth, wearing an old and dirty suit, which would have reduced any tailor to despair if taken to him for cleaning and repairs. A loose hat, with a torn crown, surmounted a singularly ill-favored visage.
     "A tramp, and a hard looking louis vuitton azur canvas bag outlet one!" said Ben to himself.
     He hesitated about answering, being naturally reluctant to have such a traveling companion.
     "Well, what do you say?" demanded the tramp rather impatiently. "There's plenty of room on that seat, and I'm dead tired."
     "Where are you going?" asked Ben.
     "Same way you are--to Pentonville."
     "You can ride," said Ben, in a tone by means cordial, and he halted his horse till his unsavory companion cheapest louis vuitton damier ebene canvas climbed into the wagon.
     They were two miles from Pentonville, and Ben had a prospect of a longer ride than he desired under the circumstances. His companion pulled out a dirty clay pipe from his pocket, and filled it with tobacco, and then explored another pocket for a match. A muttered oath showed that he failed to find one.
     "Got a match, boy?" he asked.
     "No," answered Ben, louis vuitton damier azur canvas bags glad to have escaped the offensive fumes of the pipe.
     "Just my luck!" growled the tramp, putting back the pipe with a look of disappointment. "If you had a match now, I wouldn't mind letting you have a whiff or two.
     "I don't smoke," answered Ben, hardly able to repress a look of disgust.
     "So you're a good boy, eh? One of the Sunday school kids that want louis vuitton damier ebene handbags to be an angel, hey? Pah!" and the tramp exhibited the disgust which the idea gave him.
     "Yes, I go to Sunday school," said Ben coldly, feeling more and more repelled by his companion.
     "I never went to Sunday school," said his companion. "And I wouldn't. It's only good for milksops and hypocrites."