27
“I can’t help that. He ought not to have pitched into me the way he did.”
“I agree with you.”
At these words, so quietly but firmly spoken, Matt’s eyes opened in wonder. Was it possible that the old auctioneer’s assistant took his part?
“You agree with me?” he repeated.
“Yes, I agree with you. Gulligan was altogether too hasty—he most generally is,” returned Andrew Dilks.
“I’ll bet you don’t dare tell him that,” and Matt grinned mischievously.
“I have just told him.”
“What?”
“Yes. I believe that unknown man was entirely to blame. It was a shame the way Gulligan carried on. As soon as you ran out he turned upon me for not stopping you, and we had some pretty hot words.”
“Good for you!” cried Matt. “I must thank you, not only for myself, but for Miss Bartlett as well.”
“Those hot words have cost me my situation,” went on Andrew Dilks more soberly.
Instantly Matt’s face fell.
“That’s too bad, indeed, it is!” he said earnestly. “Why, I would rather have gone home and28got the money to pay for the broken stuff than have that happen.”
“It was not altogether on account of the broken piece of bric-a-brac,” went on Andrew Dilks. “Gulligan has been angry at me for over two weeks—ever since I wouldn’t pass off a counterfeit five-dollar bill he had taken in. I said the bill ought to be burned up, but he wouldn’t hear of it.”
“But now you are out of a job.”
“That’s true. But I don’t much care. Working for him was not easy, and he never paid me my weekly wages of ten dollars until I had asked for it about a dozen times.”
“I thought auctioneers made more than that,” said Matt. There was something about Andrew Dilks that pleased him, and he was becoming interested in the conversation.
“Most of them do—a good deal more. But Gulligan considered that he had taught me the business, and that I was still under his thumb.”
“Why don’t you go in business for yourself? It seems to me it would just suit me,” said Matt enthusiastically. “I once passed through the town of Rahway, out in New Jersey, and a fellow not much older than you had a big wagon there, and was auctioning stuff off at a great rate—crockery ware, lamps, albums, razors, and a lot more of29goods. They said he had been selling goods there every night for a week.”
“Those are the fellows who make money,” returned Andrew Dilks. “Here in the city the business is done to death. Give a man a good team of horses and a wagon, and enough money to stock up, and he can travel from place to place and make a small fortune.”
“I believe you. Why don’t you start out?”
“I haven’t enough money, that’s the only reason.”
“How much would it take?”
“The price of the turnout, from two hundred dollars up, and about a hundred dollars for stock. You know stock can be purchased as often as desired.”
“By crickety! If I had the money I would go in with you!” cried Matt, caught with a sudden idea. “That sort of thing would just suit me.”
“You? Why I thought you were a city boy, a clerk——”
“So I am. But my Uncle Dan always called me a rolling stone, and that hits it exactly. I am tired of New York, and I would jump at the first chance to get out of it and see some of the country.”
“Then you are like me,” returned Andrew Dilks warmly. He was quite taken with Matt’s candor.30“If I had a turnout I would travel all over the United States, stopping a week here and a week there. How old are you?”
“Sixteen.”
“I am twenty-one. Do you live with your parents?”
“No, I am alone here.”
“So am I. I used to live in Chicago before all my folks died. I like your appearance. What is your name?”
Matt told him, and also gave Andrew Dilks a brief bit of his history. The auctioneer listened with interest, and then told a number of things concerning himself. He had been with Caleb Gulligan four years. He had been sick several times, but, nevertheless, had managed to save a hundred and thirty-five dollars.
“I’ve got seventy-five dollars saved, part of which I got from other brokers than Mr. Fenton, for running errands, and so forth,” said Matt. “That and your money would make two hundred and ten dollars. Couldn’t we start out on that?”
“We might,” replied Andrew Dilks reflectively. “You are on your way to work now, are you not?”
“Yes, and I ought to be at the office this minute!” cried Matt, with a start. “Mr. Fenton will be31tearing mad, I know. But I won’t care—that is, if we come to a deal.”
“Come and see me this evening, then. I am stopping at the Columbus Hotel, on the Bowery.”
“I know the place, and I’ll be up at seven o’clock,” returned Matt; and on this agreement the two separated.
“My, but I would like to become a traveling auctioneer!” said the boy to himself, as he hurried down Broadway. “I wish I had enough money so that we could go in as equal partners. He seems a first-rate chap in every way, and honest, too, or he would not have gotten into that row over the five-dollar counterfeit.”
Matt had lost much time in talking to Andrew Dilks, and now, in order to reach Wall street the quicker, he hopped upon the tail-end of a dray that was moving rapidly toward the Battery.
“Beating the cable cars out of a nickel!” he called to the driver, and that individual smiled grimly, and said nothing.
Less than ten minutes later the boy entered the stock-broker’s main office. He was just about to pass into Randolph Fenton’s private apartment when the figure of a man moving rapidly down the street attracted his attention. It was the red32mustached man who had created the trouble at the auction store.
“Please give these books to Mr. Fenton, and tell him I’ll be back shortly,” said Matt to the head clerk, and without waiting for a reply he placed his package on a desk, and hurried out of the door after the man.
THE PURSUIT OF A FAMILIAR FACE.Y. A.
THE PURSUIT OF A FAMILIAR FACE.Y. A.
33CHAPTER V.MATT IS DISCHARGED.
When Matt Lincoln reached the pavement he saw that the man he was after had reached Wall street and was turning down toward Water street. The boy started on a run and caught up to the individual just as he was about to descend into an insurance office which was located several steps below the level of the street.
“Hold on there!” cried Matt, and he caught the man by the arm.
“What is it, boy?” demanded the other, with a slight start at being accosted so unexpectedly.
“I want to see you about that piece of bric-a-brac you broke at the auction store up on Nausau street.”
The man’s face reddened, and he looked confused.
“I don’t—don’t know what you are talking about,” he stammered.
“Oh, yes, you do,” returned Matt coolly. “You tried to let the blame fall on a young lady, but it34won’t work. You must go back, explain matters, and settle up.”
“I’ll do nothing of the kind!” blustered the red mustached man. He had recovered from his first alarm. “I know nothing of the affair you have in mind. I have not been near an auction store to-day—for a month, in fact.”
“That’s a whopper!” exploded Matt. “You were in the place less than an hour and a half ago!”
“Nonsense, boy, you have got hold of the wrong man. Let me go.”
“Not much I won’t! You are the man, and you can’t fool me.”
“If you don’t let go I’ll call a policeman just as sure as my name is Paul Carden.”
“I don’t care what your name is, you’ve got to go back and set matters straight.”
The man glared at Matt for a moment. Then, without warning, he pushed the boy backward. Matt was standing upon the edge of the steps leading to the insurance office at the time, and he went down with a crash into the wire-netting door, knocking a large hole into it.
Before Matt could recover the man darted down Wall street and around the nearest corner. Matt would have gone after him, but the proprietor of35the insurance office came out, and demanded to know what he meant by bursting the wire-netting door in such a rude fashion.
“A man knocked me down the steps,” Matt explained. “I hope the door isn’t ruined.”
“Hardly, but there’s a hole in it.”
“The wire has broken from under the molding, that is all,” said the boy. “Let me see if I can’t fix it.”
He brought out his penknife, and loosened part of the molding. Then drawing the wire back into place, he tacked the molding fast again; and the door was as good as before.
But all this had taken time, and Matt knew it would now be useless to attempt to follow Paul Carden. He looked around the corner, and seeing nothing of the fellow, retraced his steps to Randolph Fenton’s establishment.
“Where in the world have you been so long?” demanded Mr. Fenton, as Matt entered the private apartment. “Here I have been waiting an hour for you to deliver a message to Ulmer & Grant. I hire you to be on hand when wanted, Lincoln; not to loaf your time away.”
“I was not loafing my time away, Mr. Fenton,” returned Matt calmly. “There was a private matter I had to attend to, and——”
36
“You have no business to attend to private matters during office hours!” roared Randolph Fenton wrathfully. “You will mind my business and nothing else.”
“But this could not wait. There was a man——”
“I do not care for your explanations, young man. Too much time has already been wasted. Take this message to Ulmer & Grant’s, and bring a reply inside of ten minutes, or consider yourself discharged.”
And with his face full of wrath and sourness, Randolph Fenton thrust a sealed envelope into Matt’s hand.
An angry reply arose to the boy’s lips. But he checked it, and without a word left the office and hurried away on his errand.
“I trust I make a satisfactory arrangement with Andrew Dilks,” said Matt to himself. “It is growing harder and harder every day to get along with Mr. Fenton. Every time he talks he acts as if he wanted to snap somebody’s head off. Poor Miss Bartlett at her desk looked half-scared to death.”
Arriving at the offices of Ulmer & Grant, Matt found that Mr. Ulmer had gone to Boston. Mr. Grant was busy, but would give him an answer in a few minutes.
Matt sat down, wondering what Mr. Fenton would say about the delay. Ten, fifteen, twenty37minutes passed. At last Mr. Grant was at liberty, but it was exactly half an hour before Matt managed to gain a reply to the message he carried.
When Matt got back to Randolph Fenton’s office he found the broker in his private apartment alone, and almost purple with suppressed rage.
“You think it smart to keep me waiting, I suppose?” he sneered, as he took Mr. Grant’s message and tore it open.
“It was not my fault. Mr. Ulmer is away, and Mr. Grant was busy.”
“Why didn’t you let Mr. Grant know I was in a hurry?”
“The clerk said he was not to be disturbed just then, and——”
“No more explanations, Lincoln. I took you into this office more for the sake of your poor father than for anything else. But you have not endeavored to make the most of your chances——”
“I have done my work, and more,” interrupted Matt bluntly.
“Stop! don’t contradict me, young man! You are more of an idler than aught else. This noon you wasted an hour on that errand to Temple Court, and——”
“Mr. Fenton,” interrupted a voice from the doorway, and looking up the stock-broker saw Ida Bartlett standing there.
38
“What is it?” snapped the broker.
“If you please, I would like to say a word in Matthew’s behalf,” went on the stenographer timidly.
“It’s no use saying anything, Miss Bartlett,” put in Matt hastily. “Mr. Fenton won’t listen to any explanations.”
“Yes, but it was——”
“It’s no use,” went on Matt in a whisper. “I’m not going to stand it any longer,” and then he added, as the stock-broker’s attention was arrested by the reply Mr. Grant had sent. “I am ready to leave anyway, if he discharges me, and you will only get into trouble if you mention that auction-store affair.”
“But it was all my fault——”
“No, it wasn’t, and please keep quiet.”
“But if you are discharged, Matt——”
“I’ve got something else in view.”
“Oh!”
“Well, what have you to say, Miss Bartlett?” asked Randolph Fenton, tearing up the message and throwing the pieces into the waste basket.
“I—I was going to say that I was partly to blame for his being behind time this noon. I was——”
“Do not try to shield him, Miss Bartlett. I know him better than you do. He is a very lazy39and heedless boy, and I have already made up my mind what I am going to do in the matter.”
“And what’s that?” asked Matt, although he felt pretty certain of what was coming.
“This shall be your last day of service in these offices. This afternoon I will pay you what is due you, and to-morrow I will endeavor to get a boy who is willing to attend to business and not fritter away his time on the streets.”
“I have not frittered away my time,” replied Matt warmly. “And I feel certain you will not get any one to do more than I have done. You expect a boy to do two men’s work for a boy’s pay——”
“Stop!”
“Not until I have finished, sir. I am perfectly willing to leave, even though times are dull, and have been contemplating such a step on my own account for some time. I was getting tired of being a slave.”
“You outrageous imp! Not another word from you. I will not have you in this place another minute! Go to Mr. Gaston and draw your pay and leave, and never let me see your face again!”
And white with passion, Randolph Fenton sprang to his feet and threw open the door for Matt to pass out.
40CHAPTER VI.A BUSINESS PARTNERSHIP.
Mr. Randolph Fenton’s voice had been raised to its highest pitch, and thus the attention of every one in the offices had been attracted to what was going on.
Ida Bartlett again came forward to speak in Matt’s behalf, but ere she could say a word the boy put up his hand warningly, and turned to the book-keeper.
“I will take what is due me, Mr. Gaston,” he said.
Mr. Gaston, a somewhat elderly man, nodded, and without a word, turned to his desk and passed over to Matt two new one-dollar bills.
“I’m sorry, my boy, it isn’t more,” he whispered.
“Thank you,” returned Matt. “Good-by,” he went on, turning to the other office workers. And with a smile and a bow to Ida Bartlett, he passed out of the place.
41
Not until he was some distance away did he draw a deep breath. Somehow he felt as if he had just emerged from a prison cell.
“It’s a wonder to me that I stood it so long,” he muttered to himself. “Mr. Fenton is a regular tyrant, and ought to move to Russia. How poor father ever came to invest in those mining shares through him is a mystery to me.” Matt gave a sigh, and for an instant an unusually sober look crossed his handsome face. “If only I could learn what became of poor father—if I could make sure whether he was alive or dead—I wouldn’t care how other matters went. I must continue my searching as soon as I can afford to do so.”
Matt boarded with a private family on Third avenue, and having nothing else to do, he walked slowly to the place. He wished he might meet the man with the red mustache or Andrew Dilks, but he saw nothing of either. When he arrived at the boarding-house it was still an hour to supper-time. He ascended to his roam and spent the time in looking over his wardrobe, for Matt was handy with a needle, and disliked to have buttons off or rent seams in his garments.
At length the bell for supper rang, and washing up and combing his hair, he went below. He ate his portion leisurely, and was just finishing when42the landlady said there was a young lady to see him in the parlor.
Matt at once thought of Ida Bartlett, who lived but a few blocks away, with her two sisters and her mother. He was right; it was the young lady stenographer.
“I could not wait, Matt, and so came over just as soon as we had tea,” she explained. “I want you to tell me what you are going to do, now you are out of Mr. Fenton’s offices. You spoke of having something else in view. I trust it is something better.”
“I can’t tell as to that yet,” returned the boy, and then sitting down beside her on thetête-à-tête, he told her of Andrew Dilks and the auctioneer’s proposition.
“That sounds as if it might be quite a good thing,” said Ida Bartlett, when he had finished. “You are sure this Dilks is no sharper? There are lots of sharpers in the auction business, you know.”
“Like the one who tried to make you pay?” laughed Matt.
“Exactly.”
“Well, to tell the truth, I thought of that. But Dilks doesn’t look like a sharper; quite the contrary. Of course, I’ll have to keep my eyes open. We will have a written agreement, and I will not let the43outfit go out of my sight, at least not until I know him thoroughly.”
“In that case I think you will be safe.”
“It is possible that we may not come to any agreement. He has more money than I. He may want somebody who can put up an equal amount.”
“How much has he?”
“A hundred and thirty-five dollars.”
“And that is a good deal more than you have, I suppose?”
“I have saved seventy-five dollars,” returned Matt, and not without some pride.
“Is it possible! And on a salary of four dollars a week!”
“Not much! That salary only paid my way. I saved the money out of extras I earned from other brokers—running errands for them and doing writing at home in the evenings.”
“I see. It is very creditable to you.”
“Yet Mr. Fenton said I was lazy,” replied Matt bitterly.
“Don’t you care what he said. He is a very mean man—I am finding that out more and more every day. I myself intend to leave just as soon as I can find another place. I have been there three months, and can hardly bear it longer.”
“The last stenographer only stayed two months,44and the one before that, a man, didn’t stay the week out,” grinned Matt. “They soon find out what kind of a man he is.”
“I would leave to-morrow, only I cannot afford to be out of work, and times are somewhat dull. But, about your proposed venture. You will need sixty dollars more to hold an equal share if you go in, won’t you?”
“Yes.”
Ida Bartlett meditated for a moment.
“Perhaps I might let you have that money,” she said slowly.
“Why—I—I—have you got it?” stammered Matt.
“Yes; I and my two sisters have saved quite a bit out of our earnings, you must know. I’ll have to ask Kate and Jennie and mother first. If they are willing, I’ll let you have the sixty dollars, and then you and this Dilks can form an equal partnership.”
“You are very kind,” exclaimed the boy warmly, for the offer was entirely unexpected.
“No more than I ought to be, Matt. You saved me from great annoyance this noon, and I have not forgotten the many favors you have done me from time to time. When did you say you were to meet this Dilks?”
45
“This evening. I ought to be on my way to his hotel now.”
“Then do not let me detain you longer.”
“I guess he’ll wait.”
“I will speak to my two sisters and my mother to-night, and I will let you know to-morrow what they think of the matter. If they do not consent, I can let you have twenty-five dollars on my own account, anyway.”
“Thank you. But, supposing the venture doesn’t pay? We may go all to pieces on the road.”
“I’ll risk that—with you,” smiled Ida Bartlett. “If you cannot make it pay in one place, I know you’ll soon find some other place where it will pay. The main thing is to make sure that this Andrew Dilks is honest. I would not like to hear of you being swindled.”
“Nor would I want to be swindled,” smiled Matt. “It wouldn’t pay, and, besides, I might find it a hard job to pay back what I had borrowed.”
“You may make a fortune!”
“I would be content if we made a good living.”
“And you would be able to see a good part of the country.”
“That’s the best part of it—to me. I hate to stay in one place all the while. Besides”—Matt46lowered his voice—“it will give me a chance to look for my father, if he is still alive.”
“You poor boy,” returned Ida Bartlett sympathetically. “Always thinking of him! Well, I trust, with all my heart, that you may some day find your father, alive and well.”
47CHAPTER VII.GETTING READY TO START.
A few minutes later found Matt on his way to the Columbus Hotel. The Bowery was crowded with all classes of people, some just returning from work, and others out sightseeing and buying, but the boy had no difficulty in making his way along at a rapid gait. In less than a quarter of an hour he reached the hotel and entered the office. He was about to accost the clerk at the desk, when somebody tapped him on the shoulder, and turning he saw Andrew Dilks.
“I have been watching for you,” said the young man. “I was a little afraid you might disappoint me.”
“I was detained,” said Matt. “But I am at your service now. Where shall we go?”
“My room is rather small and warm, but it is more private than the reading-room down here,” returned Andrew Dilks. “Suppose we go up there.48You can sit by the window and get what little breeze there is.”
They started for the stairs (there was no elevator, as in all better-class hotels), and were soon comfortably seated in Andrew Dilks’ room, an apartment on the third floor, in the rear.
“It’s not a very elegant place,” remarked the young man apologetically, “but it’s cheap, and that’s what I wanted. A fellow can’t spend his money and save it, too.”
“You are right there.”
“As I said before, old Gulligan only gave me ten dollars a week, and out of that I had to pay for many articles that got broken. He put off what he could on me, whether it was my fault or not.”
“I believe you said you had a hundred and thirty-five dollars?”
“Yes. It’s not much, but it’s something. I wish you had as much. I’ve figured it that we might start with a single horse and an ordinary covered wagon on two hundred and seventy dollars, and still keep twenty dollars in cash for emergencies.”
“I have an idea I can raise the amount.”
“You can? Good enough!”
“But, first, I want you to give me some of the particulars of your scheme.”
“I’ll do that willingly. I want you to understand49every detail before you invest. Then you will know just what to expect.”
Andrew Dilks brought out a sheet of paper and a pencil and began to do some figuring.
“We will put down our combined capital at two hundred and fifty dollars,” he said. “Now, what can we get a good horse for?”
“Two hundred dollars!” laughed Matt.
“You are right, but we must get one cheaper.”
“Supposing we look around for a bargain at one hundred dollars, then?”
“That is nearer the figure. We do not want a fancy animal nor a particularly fast one. A horse that can pull our wagon ten to twenty miles a day once or twice a week will answer.”
“Yes; we can trade him off for something better later on.”
“Now, I’ll put down a hundred for the horse. The wagon ought not to cost over fifty or sixty dollars.”
“Make it seventy-five for wagon and harness,” said Matt.
“It will foot up to two hundred with rubber blankets and extras.”
“I suppose it will. Well, even that will leave us with fifty dollars for stock.”
“Will that be enough?”
50
“We’ll make it do. If we run out I can leave you with the turnout, and come back to New York and buy more, and have it shipped as freight to the nearest railroad station.”
“I see. I suppose they do not do any trusting with auctioneers?”
“Not with such traveling auctioneers as we will be. I would rather buy for cash, anyway, for you can buy much cheaper.”
“I suppose you can. What would you take along, and where would you go?”
“My idea for the balance of this summer would be to strike out through New York State down into Pennsylvania, and then across to New Jersey. Then we can rent a store in some small town for the winter, especially for the holidays, and start out early in the spring for the New England States.”
This plan met with Matt’s approval, and he asked what goods Andrew Dilks thought would be the most profitable to take along.
“I have a list here in my pocket,” returned the young man, bringing it forth. “You see, it includes fancy articles and statuary, besides cheap watches, table cutlery, spoons, imitation gold rings, such musical instruments as accordions, banjos and violins, albums, razors, whips, and a dozen others. That ought to meet the wants in almost any small town.”
51
“Can you play the musical instruments?” asked Matt.
“I can play the accordion—not very well, but enough to show the instrument off.”
“I can play the banjo, and also the harmonica. You had better lay in a stock of mouth harmonicas.”
“I certainly will if you can play them. They will sell readily if they are shown off. It is good you can play the banjo. We can play that and the accordion whenever we want to open up, and thus attract a crowd. Some use a bell, but music, even when it is poor, is better. Sometimes I used to sing a comic song or two for old Gulligan when we were on the road, but I didn’t much care to do it.”
“No, I wouldn’t like that,” said Matt.
“Gulligan sold lots of what are called ‘fake’ goods,” went on Andrew Dilks. “But my intention is to sell honest goods and sell them for just what they are. We will perhaps not make as much, but people will be better pleased, and they will not want to run us out of town if we ever go back to the same place again.”
“I am with you there,” said Matt heartily. “I was afraid you might want to palm off a lot of trash for first-class goods and I didn’t want to be a party to any such transaction.”
They continued to talk the subject over for fully52an hour, and by that time both understood each other thoroughly, and had decided, if Matt could raise the necessary cash, to go into the scheme without delay.
“You see, we ought to do all the traveling possible before cold weather sets in,” said Andrew Dilks. “It is in the villages where the most money is to be made, especially now, when the farmers are about done harvesting and have some ready cash.”
“As I am out of work, I can start the moment I get the money,” said Matt. “And even if I don’t get that other money, I am willing to put in every cent of what I have now.”
On the following morning Matt was surprised to receive another visit from Ida Bartlett, who had eaten an unusually early breakfast so that she might come over before going to work.
“I knew you would be anxious to hear from me,” she said. “It is all right. The others are willing to let you have the money for a year at the regular bank interest, three per cent.”
“Thank you, and I’ll try to pay it back before the year is out,” returned Matt, much relieved.
“And you have arranged to go into the scheme? It is all satisfactory?”
“Yes.”
“Good! I wish you every success.”
53CHAPTER VIII.AN UNEXPECTED SET-BACK.
The next three days were busy ones for Matt and his newly-made partner. After they had drawn up and signed such papers as they deemed proper between themselves, they set out to look for a horse and wagon.
Andrew Dilks had cut several advertisements of bargains from the morning papers, and these they hunted up one after another.
The so-styled bargains proved to be more or less false. In nearly every instance they ran across some shrewd horse-dealer, who, under pretense of selling an outfit for a widow, or man who had left the city, tried to palm off on them an animal and wagon not worth taking away.
Late in the afternoon, however, when they were almost ready to give up and go to a regular dealer, they ran across a German baker who was selling out at a private sale.
“I vos go to Chermany next veek,” he explained54to the two. “Mine old fadder vos dead, and he vos left me all his land and houses in Bremen. See, I vos shown you der letter from der lawyers vot have his vill got.”
And he produced a large letter-head, upon which was written a dozen lines in German, which neither could read.
“Never mind that,” said Andrew. “Show us your horse and wagon, and set a bottom cash price on them.”
“Come dis vay.”
The baker led the way around the corner to a boarding-stable, and brought forth a good, chunky brown-and-white horse, that did not look to be over six years old.
“Stand around, Billy!” he cried. “Dere he vos, chentlemen, and chust so goot a horse as der vos in New York.”
“Anything the matter with him?” asked Matt, as he began an examination of the animal.
“Not a ding, sir. He vos sound as a tollar, and chentle as a lamb. I vos use him on der bread route for a year and more.”
“And where is the wagon?” questioned Andrew Dilks.
“Here vos der wagon,” said the baker, as he ran the vehicle out so that they might look it over.
55
It was a four-wheeled affair, quite large and heavy. There was one seat in the center, and before and behind this were two big boxes, each with a hinged lid. In the rear was a rack for pies and cakes. There was also a box under the seat, and a money drawer which opened with a concealed push button.
“This is just the thing for us,” whispered Andrew to Matt. “For a one-horse wagon, it could not be better arranged. The running gear seems to be in good condition, too.”
“Vell, vot you dinks of them?” asked the baker, after they had finished their survey.
“Where is the harness?” asked Matt.
“Here she vos, new two veeks ago, and here vos der vip, too.”
“And what is the lowest you can take for the rig?” asked Andrew. “We are willing to pay spot cash, but cannot afford a fancy figure.”
“I vos sold der whole dings for dree hundred dollar.”
At this announcement Matt’s face fell. Three hundred dollars! It was more than they had to spend for both turnout and stock.
“Three hundred dollars,” repeated Andrew Dilks. “If that’s the case, we can’t do business with you.”
56
“Dot’s too pad. How much you gif, hey?”
“We will give you a hundred and seventy-five.”
At this announcement the German baker held up his hands in horror, and muttered a number of ejaculations in his native tongue.
“Make it two hundred and seventy-five,” he said.
“We can’t do it.”
“Den take der turnout for two hundred and fifty.”
“No, we can’t do it,” said Matt, and with a wink to Andrew Dilks, he pulled his companion toward the stable doors.
“Hold up!” shouted the baker, in alarm. “Don’t go yet, chentlemen. Make dot figure two hundred and twenty-five, and it vos more as tog cheap at dot.”
“Perhaps it is, but we can’t afford to pay it.”
“If I could haf der dime to sell, I vos got more as dot, chentlemen.”
“Perhaps so,” returned Matt. “But you haven’t got to accept our offer, you know. We’ll look around for something cheaper.”
“You vill bay cash on der spot?”
“Yes; but you must give us a free and clear bill of sale.”
57
“I vos do dot. Make it chust two hundred dollar.”
But Andrew Dilks had set his mind on getting a further reduction, and at last the bargain was settled, and they paid over a hundred and ninety dollars for the turnout, leaving them still ten dollars to expend upon rubber blankets and other necessary articles.
The purchase completed, they made arrangements with the boarding-stable keeper to keep the horse and wagon for them until the following Monday morning. In the meantime they procured some paint, and painted over the baker’s signs on the wagon, and then Andrew, who was a fair letterer, painted on each side of the wagon-cover the following:
THE EUREKA AUCTION COMPANY.Best and Cheapest Goods on Earth.
“There, that ought to attract attention wherever we go,” said Andrew when the job was finished. “The word company makes it sound big, and we can call ourselves a company as well as not.”
On Friday and Saturday the two made a tour of the wholesale houses in New York, and Andrew expended the fifty dollars as judiciously as possible58in the purchase of goods. As business was rather slow, and ready money scarce, he struck several decided bargains, especially in cutlery and musical instruments. He had all of the goods sent up to the stable, and the two worked until ten o’clock Saturday night stowing away all of the stock in their wagon.
“Now, we are all ready for the start on Monday morning,” said Andrew as the two walked away from the stable.
“Yes, but we haven’t decided where we shall go first yet,” returned Matt.
“Let us leave that until the last minute. We know about where we are going, and it doesn’t make much difference what villages we strike so long as we do the business.”
Sunday passed quickly enough for Matt. He attended church and the Sunday-school into which Ida Bartlett had introduced him, and in the evening he packed his valise with all of his worldly possessions. Ida Bartlett also came over to bid him good-by, and remained to give him such advice as he might have received from an elder sister.
Matt had arranged to meet Andrew at the stable at six o’clock sharp, and quarter of an hour before the appointed time found him on his way to the place, valise in hand.
59
“I’ll show Andrew that I mean to be on time,” he thought to himself, as he turned into the street upon which the stable was situated.
Suddenly he saw a crowd running up from the block below. There were at least a dozen men and boys, some of whom were shouting at the top of their lungs:
“Fire! fire!”
“Fire!” repeated Matt quickly. “I wonder where it can be?”
But hardly had he uttered the words than, happening to glance toward the stable in which their turnout was located, he saw a thick volume of smoke come pouring out of several of the upper windows.
“My gracious!” he gasped, his face blanching. “It’s that stable, and our horse and wagon with the stock still inside!”
“That place is doomed!” said a man beside Matt. “See how the fire is gaining headway! They won’t be able to save a single horse or anything else!”
60CHAPTER IX.THE RESULT OF A FIRE.
It was no wonder that Matt’s heart was filled with dismay when he saw the stable which contained the auction outfit being thus rapidly devoured by the flames. Almost every cent he possessed was invested in the horse, wagon and stock, and if they were consumed he would be left in New York City next to penniless.
Close to where he was standing was a grocery store, and rushing into this he threw his valise on the counter.
“Keep this for me, please!” he cried to the proprietor. “I want to try to save my horse and wagon!”
SAVING THE WAGON.Y. A.
SAVING THE WAGON.Y. A.
And before the grocer could reply he was out of the store again, and running toward the burning stable as fast as his feet could carry him.
When he reached the front of the building, which was three stories high, and quite broad and deep, he found an excited mob of stable-hands, cab-drivers61and tradespeople assembled, each trying to get inside to save his belongings.
The owner of the stable was also present, having just arrived, and was directing, or trying to direct, the movements of the highly excited ones.
“Go into the alley on the left!” he shouted. “You can get more out of the side doors. The smoke is blowing too thickly out here!”
A rush was made for the alley and Matt got into the midst of the crowd. The side doors, to which the owner of the stable had referred, were found to be securely bolted from the inside.
“Get some axes!”
“Get a log and smash in the doors!”
“Never mind that!” yelled Matt. “I’ll climb through one of the windows and open the door!”
“Good for the boy!”
“Give me a boost up, somebody!”
Half a dozen willing hands raised Matt’s form to one of the small side windows, and an instant later the boy’s form disappeared within the smoke-laden building.
“He can’t stand it in there!”
“He’ll be smothered to death!”
Once inside, Matt found it advisable to crouch low down to the floor, for the smoke did, indeed, almost smother him. He could see but little, and62had to feel his way out of a stall, and across the floor to where the doors he wished to open were located.
“I’m afraid our nag will be a goner!” he thought dismally. “A horse never can stand anything in the shape of a fire.”
At last the doors were reached. Fortunately, he found the bolts at once, and lost not a second in drawing them from their sockets. Then he gave the doors a kick outward, and willing hands flung them far back against the side of the building. Then came a rush of men and boys, all eager to save something. For the moment it looked as if Matt would be carried from his feet.
“Here, don’t knock me down!” he cried. “Remember, I opened the doors for you.”
“So he did!” returned a burly cab driver. “Give the lad a show!”
And then Matt was given room. He quickly found his way through the smoke and heat to where the wagon stood, ready for the start on the road. The horse was but a few feet away snorting in alarm.
Matt had handled horses before, and he now knew just the best possible thing to do. Taking off his coat, he flung it over Billy’s head, thus completely blindfolding him. Then he led the animal out63of the stall, and started him toward the open doors.
“Hi, Matt, is that you?” yelled a voice close at hand.
“Yes, Andy, and I’m glad you have come. See if you can pull the wagon out.”
“Can you manage Billy alone?”
“I think I can.”
But Matt had his hands full, as he soon learned. Billy was not in the humor to listen and walk the way he desired. He pranced about wildly, and the boy had all he could do to keep from having his feet stepped upon.
But at last Matt managed to reach the open doors, and then he gave the horse a sharp cut on the flank, which sent him up the alley on a canter. The boy did not wait to ascertain how far Billy might continue on his way, but turned swiftly to help his partner, who was straining every nerve to budge the wagon from its resting-place.
“The floor is up-hill to the side doors!” gasped Andrew Dilks. “We can’t get it out, I’m afraid!”
“We must get it out!” returned Matt desperately. “Let me get hold of the shafts and you push. And be quick, for the floor overhead looks as if it was going to give away at any minute!”
Andy did as Matt directed, and together they64strained to their utmost. At first the wagon, heavily loaded, refused to budge, but then it moved slowly from its place against the wall.
“Hurrah! we are getting it!” cried Andrew Dilks. “Be sure and guide it right, Matt. Can you see, or is the smoke too thick for you?”
“I can see; but—hold on, or we’ll smash into that other wagon.”
Matt held back, and allowed another wagon to pass out first. In the meantime, the burning brands from overhead were coming down livelier than ever. One caught Matt on the left arm, burning the flesh slightly, and another landed on Andrew Dilks’ neck, causing the auctioneer to howl with sudden pain.
Outside could be heard the whistle of fire-engines and the clanging of hook-and-ladder truck bells. Then came a heavy stream of water from somewhere behind them, nearly lifting Andy from his feet.
But the way was now once more clear, and Matt yelled to his partner to push. Both exerted every nerve, and ten seconds later the wagon rolled out of the open doors, and was guided by Matt up the alley.
“Thank goodness we are out!” panted the boy, as they brought the wagon to a standstill in the midst of half a dozen carriages. “Another minute in there would just about have settled me.”