Young Auctioneers Part 27

"What's the name?" asked the agent in charge.

Andy told him, and an examination of all the freight which had come in was made, and then the two made the dismaying discovery that no goods for them had arrived.

CHAPTER XXIII.

SOMETHING IS MISSING.

"The goods haven't come in!" cried Matt. "What's to be done now? We can't open up without them, and we can't afford to miss the chance of taking a good round sum on parade day."

"I'll telegraph to New York and find out what the trouble is,"

returned Andy, and he started for the telegraph office without delay.

The message was sent to the metropolis within quarter of an hour, reaching its destination before any of the down-town wholesale houses were open for business. At eleven o'clock a reply came back that the cases had been duly sent, and that the delay would be traced up, if possible, at the freight depot there.

"This leaves us in a pickle for to-day," said Andy, as he handed the message over to Matt.

"Well, it won't be so bad if only we get our goods by to-morrow morning, Andy. Let us go over to Easton, anyway, and look for a store, and if we can find one, take the risk of hiring it."

So they crossed the river and began a search, leaving the horse and wagon tied up at the freight depot in Phillipsburg in the meantime.

They found that the firemen's parade was really to be very large, and already the store-keepers were decorating in its honor. On the streets numerous fakirs were about, offering badges, medals, song-sheets, souvenirs, and other wares for sale.

"I'll take this street, and you take that," said Andy, as they came to a corner. "Go around the block, and then take the next block. In that way we may find a store quicker. There is no use for both of us to go over the same ground."

So, after appointing a meeting-place, the two separated, and Matt hurried along the street Andy had designated to him.

"Here you are, gents, the most wonderful corn and bunion salve in the market!" he presently heard a voice crying out. "Made first expressly for the Emperor of Germany, and now sold in America for the first time. Warranted to cure the worst corn ever known, and sold for the small sum of ten cents! They go like hot-cakes, the boxes do, for they all know how good the salve is! Thank you, sir; who'll have the next?"

Matt stopped short, as something in the voice of the street merchant attracted his attention. He looked at the man and saw that it was Paul Barberry, the fellow who had wished to be taken in as a partner in Newark.

"Give me a box of that ere salve," Matt heard an old man say, and saw the traveling corn doctor hand over a package of his preparation.

The purchaser of the package handed over a quarter of a dollar in silver. Barberry stuck the money in his pocket, and without attempting to give back any change, thrust two more packages of his corn salve into the old man's hands.

"What--what's this?" stammered the old fellow. "Where is my change?"

"That's all right, three for a quarter, sir," returned Paul Barberry briskly. "Who'll have the next? Don't all crowd up at once!"

"But I don't want three," said the old man timidly. "I want my change."

"You'll find you need three, find 'em very valuable, sir! That's right, come right up and buy, buy, buy! It's the greatest on the face of the globe!" bawled Barberry, turning away and addressing another crowd on the sidewalk.

"Well, I'll be jiggered!" muttered the old man, and much put out, but too timid to stand up for his rights and demand the return of his money, he placed the packages in his coat-tail pocket, and walked off.

"Well, that's what I call a rather high-handed proceeding," thought Matt. "No wonder some folks consider street merchants and traveling auctioneers little better than thieves, when some of them act in that fas.h.i.+on. I don't think he'll prosper, though, in the end."

He was about to continue on his way, when Paul Barberry caught sight of him and came forward.

"Hullo, my young friend!" he called out pleasantly. "What brings you to Easton--the big parade?"

Matt did not like this manner of being addressed. He considered the corn salve doctor altogether too familiar, so he replied rather coldly:

"Not particularly. We merely struck Easton in the course of our travels."

"Oh, then you and your companion are still on the road with your wagon?"

"Yes."

Paul Barberry seemed to grow interested at once.

"Good enough! And how is business?"

"Very good," returned Matt, and not without pardonable pride.

"Then you are not ready to take me in as a partner yet?"

"Not quite; my friend and I can run the business very well without outside help."

"But you might make more money with me in the firm," went on Paul Barberry persistently.

"We haven't room for a third person."

"Where are you stopping now?"

"We haven't a place yet. My partner and I have just started to look for an empty store."

"Oh, then you are going to stay several days or a week."

"Yes."

"Where were you last?"

"Across the river."

"Do pretty well in Phillipsburg?"

"We did very well--until we began to run out of goods."

"I couldn't do anything in Phillipsburg," grumbled Paul Barberry.

"It's only a one-horse place, anyway. So you ran out of goods there?"

"We ran out of some goods--our best sellers."

"Why don't you send for more goods?"