Young Auctioneers Part 15

"As I said before, we have no room for an outsider," returned Matt, while Andy nodded approvingly. "The wagon seat only holds two, and besides, our plans are all completed for our trip."

"Humph!" The man's face took on a sour look. "You are missing the chance of your lives."

"We'll risk it," laughed Andy.

"I can sell more salve than you can sell other goods every day in the week--and make more money, too."

"Then you had better start alone--and at once," returned Andy shortly.

"I will--if you fellers won't take me in as a working partner. I made the suggestion only because I thought it would be more pleasant to travel in a company of three."

"We are satisfied to go it without outside a.s.sistance," cried Matt, as he hopped on the seat. "All ready, Andy?"

"Yes, go on," returned his partner, climbing up beside him.

"Then you won't make a deal with me?" questioned Paul Barberry more sourly than ever.

"No," replied Matt and Andy in a breath, and while one gathered up the lines the other spoke to the horse, and the turn-out began to leave the stable.

"All right," shouted Paul Barberry. "You may be sorry for it. You young fellows think you know it all, but you may get tripped up badly before long," and picking up an ancient and decidedly rusty traveling-bag which he possessed, the corn salve doctor trudged away up the street.

"What a forward man!" exclaimed Matt, as they moved off. "Why, he actually wanted to force himself on us!"

"There are a good many such fellows on the road," returned Andy. "The moment they see some one who appears to be prospering, they try their best to get in with him. I dare say that Dr. Paul Barberry is about broke, and would consider it a windfall of fortune to be taken in by the owners and managers of the Eureka Auction Co."

"I wonder if we'll meet him again," mused Matt, as he looked back just in time to see the shabby figure disappear around a corner.

"Oh, he may turn up again; such fellows very often do," replied Andy.

But neither he nor Matt dreamed of the peculiar circ.u.mstances under which they would again come in contact with Paul Barberry.

The day was warm and bright, and Billy, the horse, appeared in excellent spirits by the way he trotted along over the macadamized road from Newark to Elizabeth.

It was not their intention to stop at the latter place, but just as they reached the outskirts of the city Billy began to limp, and they saw that one of his shoes had become loose.

"We'll have to take him around to a blacksmith shop," said Andy, and they accordingly drove on until such a place was reached.

Here they found they would have to wait until dinner-time before the shoe could be refitted. Rather than go to the trouble and expense of getting a license, however, they decided to spend the time in walking around.

"This is one of the oldest towns in New Jersey," remarked Andy, as they walked around the depots and down Broad Street, the main thoroughfare. "Down along the water front is one of the largest sewing machine factories in the world. I was through it once and I can tell you it was a sight well worth seeing."

Just before twelve o'clock they stopped in a restaurant not far from the blacksmith shop, and had dinner. By the time this was over Billy's shoe had been readjusted, and once more they were off.

It was easy driving along the smooth country road, and after pa.s.sing through Cranford, Westfield and several smaller places, they struck out for Plainfield, which Andy declared was to be their first regular stopping place.

"It is a fair-sized city," he said. "And if we can strike the right stand we ought to do well there for several days or a week."

"I hope we do well," returned Matt. "We need a good start, for as yet our ready funds are rather low."

"You will have your first chance to do a bit of regular auctioneering,"

smiled Andy. "I trust you are not nervous over the prospects."

"Never mind if I am," returned Matt bravely. "I am going to do my best. If I get nervous I'll get over it just as quickly as I can."

Some time before sundown they entered Plainfield; half an hour later they found a suitable stopping place, and then Andy went off to secure some stand where they might do business.

He came back in an hour and stated that he had secured an empty store, which would be much better than selling from the wagon.

"The store will only cost us a dollar a day as long as we use it, and we ought to be able to make that much more out of it," he said.

They went to work that night transferring the stock from the wagon to the store shelves, and when this was finished both set to work to wash and dress the show window.

On the following morning at ten o'clock, they hung out a red flag, and then the Eureka Auction Co. was ready for business.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE YOUNG AUCTIONEER.

"I feel like a cat in a strange garret!" exclaimed Matt, as he walked up and down behind the counter on a raised platform he and Andy had placed there. "This is like going into cold water an inch at a time. I would rather plunge in head first."

"Then here goes," cried Andy, catching up an accordion that stood close at hand. "Let us see what we can do toward drawing a crowd in.

There must be something going on, for the streets are filling up with people."

"There is a cheap circus to exhibit. I saw the posters. Perhaps they intend to give a parade."

"Most likely. Get your banjo, Matt, and let us give them our best selection."

Matt did as requested; and as the music rang out those on the pavement began to pause, and half a dozen stopped at the open door and peered in.

"Come right in! Come right in!" shouted Andy. "The auction is now about to begin, and you don't want to miss the chance of your lives!"

"Plenty of room for everybody!" shouted Matt directly after him. His voice was a trifle unsteady through excitement. "Don't wait outside, but secure a good place, where you can hear and see all that is going on. You need not buy if you do not wish. One more tune, ladies and gentlemen, and then we will show you the best bargains ever exhibited in this city. That's right, come right in!"

Thus urged, the folks began to drift in, singly and in pairs, until, when the next tune was finished, the store held perhaps twenty-five men, women and boys. Several children had tried to enter, but Andy had shook his head at them, and thus kept them outside.

"Say, what's them pocket-knives worth?" asked one old man evidently from the country, as he pointed to a board stuck full of the glittering blades.

"Which knife, sir?" asked Matt, in a business-like way.

"That one with the buckhorn handle and prunin' blade."

"That sir, is one of our best knives. Well made, of the best steel, and one that ought to last you a good many years. What do you offer for it, sir?"

"Offer?" repeated the old man in astonishment.