CHAPTER XXIII.

Ben's Generous Act in Indiana--Under Arrest in Pittsburg with Kitty--Goes West--Life in Grand Rapids--Mistaken for a Minister.

It was in the town of Indiana, at the same time during which the counterfeiting game was in operation, that there occurred an incident which serves to illustrate Hogan's readiness to help those in distress.

One of those financial sharks who manage to keep within the letter of the law and at the same time to swindle everybody who has dealings with them, held a mortgage on a poor man's house. The hard times had made it impossible for the man in question to meet the demands of the mortgage-holder, and the latter had therefore entered a foreclosure. This left the man homeless, and without a dollar in the world with which to support his family.

In some way the facts of the case came to Ben's knowledge, and he resolved to save the unfortunate man's property. With his accustomed shrewdness, he hit upon a plan which completely outwitted the money-sharper. The mortgage upon the property amounted, with interest, to three thousand dollars. It was generally believed that the property at that dull time would not bring much more than enough to satisfy this claim. Of course it was for the interest of the holder of the mortgage to get as much for the property as he could.

Ben had it circulated about the town that he was a real estate dealer from New York, who had come on to Indiana to buy up all the land that he could get hold of. His confederate, George, who was with him at that time, went to the broker who held the mortgage, and told him that this New York agent would pay any sum for the property which was about to be sold. George advised the broker to bid against Ben, so as to run the figure up as high as possible. In his greed to get all that he could, the broker straightway fell into this trap.

When the day of the sale arrived, a goodly number of people assembled, some to bid, but more to look on. The broker was on hand early, with George at his side, who professed to be most loyal to his new friend. Ben, also, was there, with the man who had given the mortgage. The auctioneer mounted his box and the sale began.

"What am I offered for this property, gentlemen? You all know what it is worth, and the circumstances under which it is sold. What do I hear to start it?"

"Five hundred dollars!" said Ben.

"Five hundred and ten!" said the broker.

"Fifteen hundred!" continued Ben.

The broker was cautious in all his bids, and raised this last amount only ten dollars.

"Three thousand dollars!" exclaimed Hogan.

"Three thousand and ten!" exclaimed the broker.

"Four thousand!" cried Ben.

At this point the auctioneer had to dwell some time. The broker began to get a little nervous, but George was on hand to spur him on.

"Why, man alive," said the latter, "don't be a bit afraid; this New Yorker will give ten thousand dollars rather than not get it. I heard him say so, myself. Raise him again!"

"Four thousand and ten!" said the broker at last.

"Five thousand dollars!" came promptly from Ben's side of the house.

The man who had given the mortgage began to fear lest Hogan would overdo the thing.

"Don't raise it again," he said; "it is up high enough now to give me a good surplus."

But Ben only replied by saying in a tone loud enough for everybody to hear him:

"It doesn't make any difference to me what I pay for this property. I'm going to have it; and I've got the money right here in my pocket," slapping his breast as he spoke, where there was not a dollar.

The words, however, had their desired effect upon the broker. Thinking that he could safely run the price up, he continued to bet against Ben, until he reached seven thousand dollars. No sooner had he made this bid than Ben looked over with a smile of triumph, and said:

"The property is yours, sir. I hope you are satisfied with your bargain!"

The broker was almost frantic with rage and disappointment; but there was nothing to do but abide by the consequences. He had bid more than twice the amount of the mortgage, and the residue of course went to the man who had owned the house. Ben thus did an act of kindness which his friend will probably never forget; and he also succeeded in bleeding the financial sharp--as difficult a thing as it was satisfactory to accomplish.

After his eventful sojourn in Indiana, Ben went back to Pittsburg with plenty of money in his pocket. There he went in for a general good time, and made the dust fly in a lively manner. He made further investments in banks--the faro banks--which are not always fair oh.

In the course of his tours about town, he discovered in a house then well known his former mistress, Kitty. It was on a Saturday night, and while Ben was in the place, the house was "pulled," and all the occupants, including Ben and Kitty, were locked up. They were obliged to remain in the station-house until Monday morning, when they were arraigned. Each of the others was fined either five or ten dollars, but Ben and Kitty, toward whom the Mayor entertained special feelings of friendship, were each given the privilege of paying one hundred dollars, or spending sixty days in jail. Ben had money enough only to pay his own fine at the time, but he succeeded in raising enough afterward to pay Kitty's also, and thus released her from imprisonment. Ben instituted proceedings against the city for unjust punishment, and left the case in the hands of his lawyer, ----. If that gentleman ever succeeded in getting any damages, Ben has not been informed of the fact up to the present writing.

Before leaving Pittsburg at this time, Ben repeated the Mexican dollar dodge, of which mention has already been made, among a number of the leading shoe merchants of the place; and, by this and other means, he raised enough to carry him to the West in good style.

Striking Cleveland, he put up with his friend Charley Moore, and remained for six weeks, at the end of which time his capital was again exhausted. At about the same time he learned through El. Rumsey that there was to be a glove fight at Birmingham, O., and thither he made his way.

For five weeks he remained with Rumsey, at the latter's hotel, and had altogether a jolly time of it. He gave a number of sparring exhibitions at this time, the last of which was held in Sandusky. Ben fell in love with so many girls during his sojourn in Birmingham, and took unto himself so many wives, after the Brigham Young fashion, that it finally became necessary for him to get out of town.

He proceeded at once to Detroit, and there fell in with McLaughlin, who was stopping at Martindale's Hotel, preparing for his match with the Butcher Boy of Ypsilanti. Ben became McLaughlin's trainer, and remained with him six weeks. Of all the men whom he had ever had under his charge, he found McLaughlin the most perfect specimen of muscular development. He could bear training better than anybody Hogan had ever met, and his powers of endurance were simply marvelous. Up to that time, McLaughlin had never been trained under two hundred and forty pounds. Ben brought him down to two hundred and fifteen, and there was not a muscle in his entire body which did not show. A number of physicians called to examine him, and they united in pronouncing him a model of physical strength. It maybe added that Ben found McLaughlin a thorough gentleman, as well as an ideal athlete.

Ben, in company with McLaughlin and Schmidt, went from Detroit to Toledo, and in the latter city gave an exhibition of wrestling and boxing. They afterwards returned to Detroit, where Ben separated from McLaughlin, and made arrangements with Johnny Donaldson, of Cleveland, to spar for one week in the Theatre Comique, for which they received two hundred dollars. Ben found Donaldson to be an expert and clever boxer.

Our hero next proceeded to Ypsilanti to see Martin, the Butcher Boy, making the trip one of pleasure rather than of business. He happened to fall in with Mixer, and was induced to become the latter's trainer for his match with Holcomb. This match came off in the Grand Rapids Opera House, and was a most stubbornly contested battle, lasting fully five hours. Holcomb was the winner, but it should be said that Ben had Mixer in hand only about a week, and previous to that time the man had little or no attention.

After the wrestling match, Ben remained for some time in Grand Rapids, opening a gymnasium, and delivering lectures through the country villages on "Physical Culture." His recollection of Grand Rapids is altogether pleasant. He found the citizens of the place cordial in their support of his undertaking, and he formed many acquaintances, which he will always cherish warmly. The gymnasium became popular, and Ben himself was a universal favorite. He made the Sweet House his headquarters, and found it altogether one of the best-conducted hotels at which he had ever stopped.

Among the many incidents which occurred during Ben's residence in Grand Rapids was one which became the talk of the town. Perhaps I cannot do better than reproduce the account given by the Grand Rapids _Times_. This is what the _Times_ said:

"Ben Hogan had on his clerical suit yesterday. Arrayed in this dress, Hogan bears a striking resemblance to a minister of the Gospel, and has frequently been taken as such. He wore, in addition to the high-buttoned waistcoat, a standing collar, and, with his saintly air, looked more than ever like a chosen disciple. Standing on Monroe street, yesterday afternoon, with a book ("Professor Wood on Gymnastics"), about the size of a common Bible, under his arm, and a copy of the _Times_ in his hand, he was approached by a stranger, and saluted. The stranger was similarly dressed, and proved to be a minister in charge of a small parish in an adjoining town.

"He expressed his pleasure at meeting with a brother and co-worker in the cause, remarking that he was a stranger in the city, and intimating that he was willing to be entertained at the home of the Rev. Dr. Hogan. Ben, who has become tired of explaining so many times that his vocation lies in another direction than that of the holy profession, permitted him to remain in blissful ignorance of his true character, and finally invited him to visit his library.

"The divine jumped at the invitation, and taking the gymnast's arm, proceeded to the "library;" the stranger in the meantime manifesting considerable anxiety to learn how much his reverend brother received as salary, and how his flock prospered. Arriving finally at Hogan's gymnasium rooms, the twain entered, when, instead of beholding a study-room stocked with holy works, his bewildered gaze fell upon a miscellaneous lot of dumb-bells, boxing-gloves, pulley-weights, sand-bags, and the paraphernalia that is usually found in a gymnasium. Hogan pointed to these with a satisfactory air, saying:

"'Here's my study.'

"'Ah, but I don't understand,' replied the holy man.

"Hogan proceeded to enlighten him upon the mysteries of the profession. He gazed for some time on Ben's muscular exercises in an abstracted manner, and finally allowed this was very well for the development of the body, but asked when he developed the mind.

"Hogan replied that this exercise served to enlarge both mind and body, and invited him to balance a thirty pound dumb-bell. The minister declined, and began to realize his mistake. Hogan, finding him to be a pleasant gentleman, with a humorous turn, soon explained the situation, not omitting to tell how many times he had been mistaken for a clergyman. The reverend gentleman realized the situation, and remarked that he had never made a more serious mistake in his life, looked the gymnasium carefully over, admitted the necessity for such institutions, shook hands, and laughed heartily when Ben told him how many prize fights he had been engaged in.

"The clergyman then explained to the professor that his appearance and general make-up, together with the book he supposed to be the Bible, and the _Times_ (which he knew to be a religious journal) all led him to believe he had met a brother and an earnest worker in the vineyard.

"Ben admitted that he didn't know much about the vineyard, but remarked that he was an earnest worker in the gymnasium. After a brief (very brief) season of mutual congratulations, the rural divine started to seek a genuine brother with a study more to his taste."