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"We have sent, and we are expecting the cases at any moment at the Phillipsburg freight depot."
"Where is your horse and wagon?"
"Tied up at the depot over there," and to avoid being questioned further, Matt began to move off.
"I think I can get a good store for you," went on Barberry, catching him by the arm.
"Thank you, but I would prefer to do my own hunting," returned the young auctioneer, still more coolly.
"Don't want anything to do with me, eh?" retorted the corn salve vender angrily.
"I don't want you to take your valuable time in transacting my business," returned Matt, and off he hurried, before Barberry could offer any reply.
"He and his partner are mighty independent chaps," grumbled the pretended doctor, as he gazed after Matt, with a scowl on his face. "I suppose he thinks himself above me because he has a horse and wagon.
Well, maybe he won't be any better off than I am some day."
And, in far from a good humor, Paul Barberry resumed the sale of his so-styled wonderful corn cure, a preparation, by the way, which was of no value as a remedial agent.
Matt walked along for several blocks without running across any empty stores that would be suitable for holding sales. Most of the places were too small, and others were in out-of-the-way corners, to which it would be next to impossible to attract a crowd.
At the appointed time he walked to the spot where he was to meet Andy.
His partner was waiting for him, a smile resting on his pleasant face.
"Any luck, Matt?" he asked.
"None."
"I've struck something that I imagine will just suit us. Come on and look at it."
The two hurried to the place Andy had in mind. It was, indeed, a good store, and just in the right spot, and ten minutes later they were on the way to hunt up the landlord and rent the place.
It was no easy matter to find the person for whom they were seeking, and it was well along in the afternoon before the man who owned the building was found. He agreed to let them have the store for four days for ten dollars, and the bargain was closed on the spot.
Then they returned to the store and cleaned it up as best they could, and at a little after five o'clock locked up and started back to Phillipsburg to ascertain if their cases of goods had yet arrived.
The walk across the bridge did not take long, and the freight depot was close at hand.
"Why, where is the horse and wagon?" cried Matt, as he discovered that the turn-out was missing from the place where Billy had been fastened.
"Well, that's what I would like to know," returned Andy. "I don't see a thing of it anywhere, do you?"
They looked around, up one street and down another, but neither Billy nor the gayly-painted wagon came into view.
"I'll ask the freight agent about it," said Matt, and he hurried into the office.
"Your horse and wagon?" repeated the agent, in reply to his question.
"Why, I guess your man drove off with them."
"Our man?" gasped the young auctioneer.
"Yes; the one you sent around here to get those cases of goods you were expecting. He took the cases, too."
CHAPTER XXIV.
ALONG THE RIVER.
Matt could do nothing but stare at the freight agent. A man had come there and driven off with the horse and wagon and taken the cases of goods with him. It seemed too bold-faced to be true.
"Our man?" he stammered. "We have no man."
"Didn't you send the man here?" demanded the agent, as he stopped short in his work of checking off packages.
"We certainly did not," returned the young auctioneer. "Andy!" he called out, as he stepped back toward the open door, and a moment later Andy Dilks hurried into the depot.
"He says a man came here, got the cases of goods, and drove off with Billy," cried Matt breathlessly. "You did not send any one here, did you?"
"Certainly not," returned Andy promptly. "When was this?"
"Less than two hours ago," replied the freight agent, and he was now all attention. "Do you mean to say the fellow was a thief?"
"He was!" cried Matt.
"I don't see how he could be anything else," added Andy. "Did he pretend to have an order for the cases?"
"Yes, he had a written order."
"And the bill of lading?"
"N--no, he didn't have that," was the slow reply. "But I thought it was all right. He looked like an honest chap. You had better notify the police at once."
"We will," said Matt. "What sort of a looking fellow was he?"
As best he could the freight agent gave a description of the man who had driven off with the goods and the turn-out. Matt and Andy both listened attentively.
"By the boots, I'll bet it was that Paul Barberry!" almost shouted the young auctioneer, ere the agent had ceased talking. "This is his way of getting even with us for not taking him into partners.h.i.+p."
"Perhaps you are right," returned Andy. "Did you say anything to him about the wagon being here?"
"I did." And Matt briefly narrated the conversation he had had with the corn doctor.
Then the agent was questioned further, and it was not long before all three were convinced that the pretended doctor was the guilty party.
"If I had known he wasn't square I would not have let him have the cases of goods, that's sure," said the agent meekly.
"I do not doubt that," returned Andy. "But the loss of the horse and wagon is more than we can stand as it is. We will have to hold the railroad responsible for the three cases."