Stratemeyer Edward
Young Auctioneers: or, The Polishing of a Rolling Stone

CHAPTER XXXI.
DANGEROUS MOUNTAIN TRAVELING

Both Matt and Andy began to smell a mouse, as the saying is, and they lost no time in questioning not only the German, but several other people that remained around the wagon.

The young auctioneers soon learned that a rival party of auctioneers with a large two-horse wagon had stopped at the town during the entire previous week, and sold goods which were next to worthless, for the highest prices to be obtained. They had been cool and shrewd men, thoroughly dishonest, and they had swindled every one who had had dealings with them.

“And where did they go to?” asked Andy, of the German, after the matter had been talked over for some time.

“Ve ton’t know. Of ve did ve vould tar an’ fedder dem, py chiminy!” was the emphatic reply.

“That settles it, we won’t be able to do any business here,” said Matt, and though they remained in Bethlehem the remainder of that day and all of the next, his words proved true. Only a few trifles were sold, and these at prices that did not reimburse them for the trouble of handling.

Seeing that it would not pay to remain in the town longer, they started once more on the road, and by the end of the week found themselves established in a store in Allentown, and doing quite a good business.

While in this city Andy made a trip to Philadelphia, and had several more cases of goods shipped on, which Matt was careful to procure before they might be stolen from the freight depot. The wagon was also sent to a repair shop and thoroughly overhauled, for the roads beyond Allentown promised to be rougher than those heretofore traversed.

Both Matt and Andy were curious to know more about the rival auctioneers, and they wondered if they would meet the men. Nothing had been heard of them in Allentown, so that their business in that city was not injured. They did fairly well, although a strike in some of the mills made business duller than it would otherwise have been.

But both of the partners thought they had no cause for complaint. During the time they had been away from home they had cleared, above all expenses, one hundred and seventy-two dollars, which, equally divided, was eighty-six dollars apiece – not a fortune, but still an amount which Matt at least viewed with considerable satisfaction.

“If we do as well right straight through,” he said, as he and Andy talked it over on their way to Lehighton and Mauch Chunk, “we will have quite an amount to place to our credit in the bank by the time we reach New York again.”

“I am in hopes that we will do even better as cold weather comes on,” returned Andy. “Folks seem to buy more then – I don’t know why. And besides, after stopping at Mauch Chunk, we will only go to large places, for I think it will pay to skip the smaller ones.”

“I don’t know but what you are right. I know one thing that I am going to do when I get to Mauch Chunk – that is, if business continues good.”

“And what is that?”

“I am going to buy a post-office order and send Miss Bartlett the money she so kindly loaned me. Won’t she be surprised to get it back so soon?”

“No doubt of it, Matt. It was very kind of her to loan it to you. I suppose you are going to pay her the interest – ”

“For the full year,” finished the boy. “And at Christmas, if I can do it, I’m going to make her some sort of a nice present. She is the only friend I had left in New York.”

“A very nice young lady,” returned Andy, and then he went on, with a short laugh: “I wonder what old Caleb Gulligan would say if he knew of our prosperity?”

“And I wonder what Mr. Randolph Fenton would say if he knew how I was doing? I hope when I write to Miss Bartlett that she lets him know,” went on Matt. “I suppose he thought that after he discharged me I would go to the dogs.”

“Yes, men like him very often imagine the world cannot possibly get along without them. I reckon you are glad that you are no longer in his employ.”

“Glad isn’t a strong enough word, Andy. It makes me shudder to look back at the times I spent in his offices, being bossed around and scolded from morning to night.”

“I think traveling around has done us both a deal of good, Matt. I feel stronger than I have in years, and you look the picture of health, barring those bruises you received from Barberry and his companions.”

“Oh, I feel fine! Outdoor life always did agree with me. When I was in Fenton’s offices I felt very much like a prisoner in a jail. I wouldn’t go back to that life again for the world!”

Thus the talk ran on, from one subject to another. Andy had given his young partner the full particulars of his own roving life, and in return Matt had related everything concerning himself, and the two felt as if they had known each other for years; in fact, as Matt once stated later on, they were more like brothers than mere partners in business.

Andy was deeply interested in the fact of Mr. Lincoln’s disappearance, and he wondered nearly as much as did Matt himself if the unfortunate man would ever turn up again.

As for the boy, he could not bring himself to believe that his parent was dead, and although he rarely mentioned his father’s name, he was constantly on the watch for him, and often when they were stopping at a place he would go off on what he termed a “still hunt,” hoping thereby to pick up a stray bit of information which would put him on the right track to learn of his father’s whereabouts.

The drive up through Walnut Port to Lehigh Gap was very nice. At the latter place they stopped over night, and then pushed on to Lehighton, sometimes along the river, and then by way of a road through and around the mountains.

“This scenery is just grand!” cried Matt, as they were driving on about ten o’clock in the forenoon. “Just look at that mountain over yonder! And see how the river winds along through the valley below here!”

“It is very fine, indeed!” returned Andy. “But I’ll tell you what: I would rather be on horseback than in the wagon. It seems to me that some of the bends around the mountain side are positively dangerous.”

“Oh, I guess not, Andy. Why, look, there is a regular wagon road. If other wagons can pass along here, I fancy we can do so, too.”

“Other wagons may not be as heavy as ours, with that big case tied on behind. Don’t you notice how Billy slips every once in awhile?”

“Well, we might have had him shod sharp when we had the wagon overhauled,” returned Matt slowly, as he noticed for the first time that Billy did slip more than usual. “We can have it done during our stop at Mauch Chunk or at Lehighton, if it becomes necessary. Maybe we are on the wrong road again.”

“Well, certainly this road is growing worse instead of better,” said Andy soberly. “Just look at that turn ahead! The road isn’t over ten feet wide, and it slopes down to that steep hill – ”

“Drive as close to the inside wall as you can,” was Matt’s somewhat nervous reply, as he saw the possible danger ahead. “Steady now, Billy, steady!”

The horse moved along slowly up to the curve which ran around the mountain side. As Andy had said, the road at this point was scarcely ten feet wide, and on the other side was a steep downward slope, terminating below at a tiny brook filled with loose rocks.

The curve was reached, and the two were just congratulating themselves upon having passed the dangerous spot in safety, when a large bird, flying from a near-by bush, frightened Billy and caused him to shy to one side.

In another instant the wagon was at the very edge of the slope!

CHAPTER XXXII.
AN INTERESTING LETTER

To Andy and Matt it looked as if the entire turn-out must slide down the hillside to the bottom, there to be smashed into a hundred pieces.

It was small wonder, therefore, that both gave a loud cry of alarm and that both caught at the lines to lead Billy away from the danger so imminent.

The horse continued to move ahead, but instead of drawing closer to the inside, he walked upon the very outer edge of the road.

“I’ll lead him!” cried Andy, and while Matt continued to hold the lines, he sprang out and caught Billy by the bridle.

Ordinarily, the faithful animal would have come along willingly, but he now seemed to grow obstinate, and pulled back when Andy caught hold. The wagon stopped, and then the rear wheels were sent partly down the slope.

“Pull him up!” cried Matt. “Pull him, Andy!”

“He won’t come!” gasped Andy, tugging at the bridle with might and main.

“But he must come! The wagon will go down in another second!”

“I can’t help it, I can’t make him come,” panted Andy, between his clinched teeth, as he renewed the struggle to bring the wagon up on the level once more.

Tying the lines fast, Matt sprang out. He had seen a loose stone of fair size close at hand, and this he now picked up. Running around to the rear of the wagon, he placed it on the sloping ground so that one of the wheels was blocked from further slipping.

“Good!” cried Andy. “Can you find another stone?”

“I’m going to push on the other wheel. Get up, Billy, get up there!”

Matt placed his shoulder to the wheel, and exerted all of his strength, and seeing this, Andy also urged the horse. Billy gave a tug – there was a moment’s strain – and then the turn-out rolled up once more upon the level road.

“Thank goodness for that!” burst out Andy. “I thought for a moment that it was a goner!”

“So did I, Andy. You had better lead him until we reach a safer bit of the road.”

“I intend to do that. And after this I’ll know enough to lead him around such a bend, instead of taking such a dangerous chance.”

Only a hundred feet further on the mountain road left the proximity of the slope, and then the two once more climbed up on the seat. Billy, the horse, did not appear to be in the least disturbed over the adventure, but Matt and Andy were bathed in a cold perspiration which did not leave them until some time after.

At Lehighton, where they stopped for dinner, they determined to drive right through to Mauch Chunk, four miles further on. Many people from the former place did their trading at Mauch Chunk, and the young auctioneers thought they would catch just as much trade by not stopping on the way.

At Mauch Chunk a stop was made for three days, and during that time there were several excursions to the place from New York and Philadelphia, the city folks coming up to see the autumnal beauties of Glen Onoko and the various mountains through which the Switchback gravity road runs. These crowds helped business some, and the stay proved nearly as profitable as the one at Easton had been.

On the first day at Mauch Chunk Matt procured the money order of which he had spoken, and sent it to Ida Bartlett, with a long letter, in which he thanked her for her kindness, and gave her an account of the trip since leaving the metropolis. He stated that if she wished to write to him within the week to address the letter to Wilkesbarre, or, on the following week to Scranton, as they were bound for both places.

During their spare hours both Andy and Matt took the ride on the gravity road and enjoyed it very much. The rhododendrons were out in full bloom, and Matt wished he could send Ida Bartlett a bunch of the beautiful flowers.

They were soon once again on the road. But Billy’s shoes had been carefully attended to, and now they were very careful whenever they came to a spot that looked at all dangerous.

“One scare is enough,” was the way Andy put it, and Matt thoroughly agreed with him.

After leaving Mauch Chunk they passed through Penn Haven and Leslie Run, and so on to White Haven. At the latter place they stopped for two days, but found it very unprofitable, as there was little or no money afloat.

“Well, we have to take the bad with the good,” said Andy, in reply to Matt’s remark concerning the dullness of trade. “We cannot expect to make money wherever we go. If that was to be done, I reckon there would be many other auctioneers in the field.”

“That reminds me: I wonder what has become of those auctioneers we heard of in Bethlehem?”

“I’m sure I don’t know. But it is likely that we will hear from them again, sooner or later.”

On leaving White Haven for Wilkesbarre, they struck the first snow-storm of the season. It was not a heavy storm, and yet, as the wind blew in their faces, the drive of thirty miles proved anything but pleasant. They were glad enough when the city was reached, and they were able to put up the turn-out at a livery stable and warm up around the office stove.

“We won’t be able to travel much longer, if this keeps on,” remarked Andy. “We’ll have to pick out some place to settle down in for the winter.”

“Have you any place in view?” asked Matt, with interest.

“I’ve had my eye on Middletown, New York State. That’s a lively place, and it gets a trade from a good many miles around.”

“Do you think we can make it?”

“I think so. We can go from Scranton to Carbondale, and Honesdale, and so on through Lackawaxen and Port Jervis. By taking that route we can stop on the way and still reach Middletown inside of two weeks.”

“Well, I shouldn’t like to miss a letter from Miss Bartlett, if it was sent.”

“You can leave directions to forward it if it comes after we are gone. The post-office authorities will willingly send the letter wherever you direct.”

“Perhaps she has already written.”

“If you think so, why don’t you call at the post-office and find out?”

“I will – as soon as we have had something to eat and drink.”

They passed over to the Commercial Hotel, and after brushing up, entered the dining-room. Here a late dinner was served for them, and it is needless to say that both did full justice to all that was set before them.

After they had finished Andy went off to hunt up an empty store, and Matt, after securing directions, walked off to the post-office.

To his delight, there was a letter for him, and addressed in Ida Bartlett’s hand. As it was the first letter he had received since being on the road, the reader can understand his curiosity to master its contents. Standing back in an out-of-the-way spot of the corridor, he split open the envelope with his penknife, and was soon reading that which had been written.

The letter surprised him not a little. After acknowledging the receipt of the money order and congratulating him upon his evident success, Ida Bartlett wrote as follows:

“And now, Matt, I am going to tell you something that I think will interest you even more than it does me. It is about Mr. Fenton and the mining shares which he once sold your father. Last week Mr. Gaston, the bookkeeper, had a quarrel with Mr. Fenton, and was discharged. Before he left, however, he and Mr. Fenton had some high words, which I, being in the next office, could not help hearing.

“During this quarrel something was said about the shares sold to William Lincoln, and Mr. Gaston said that if the papers in connection with the shares which your father had bought could be recovered, he would expose Mr. Fenton. I could not understand the whole drift of the matter, but Mr. Fenton seemed to be glad that your father was missing – he said he was most likely dead – and that the papers had disappeared with him.

“Do you know anything of the papers? Mr. Gaston has gone to Boston, but I could write to him if you think that Mr. Fenton is a swindler and that you can get back any money which he may have defrauded your father out of. I myself am going to leave Mr. Fenton’s employ on the first of next month, having secured a better place with another firm of brokers. Let me hear from you again as soon as possible. I hope if he has any money belonging to your father you can get it.”

CHAPTER XXXIII.
THE RIVAL AUCTIONEERS

It may well be imagined that Matt read Ida Bartlett’s letter with great interest. The young auctioneer had never received a communication as surprising as was this one.

He went over every word carefully several times, then placed the letter in his pocket, and started off to find Andy.

Half an hour later he came across his partner on the main street. Andy had just rented a store, one of two vacant ones which were side by side, and was now on his way to drive the wagon around and unload the stock.

“Well, did you get a letter, Matt?”

“I did.”

“Good enough. Any special news?”

“Yes, indeed. Just read that.”

And the young auctioneer passed the communication over for his partner’s perusal.

Andy read the letter as carefully as had Matt. He emitted a long, low whistle.

“What do you think of it?”

“I hardly know what to think, Matt. Do you know anything about this mining share business?”

“I know that Randolph Fenton sold my father some shares, that is all. I never saw the certificates, if that is what they are called.”

“Did you ever see the papers in connection with the shares?”

“No.”

“Then they must have been in your father’s possession when he disappeared.”

“I don’t know about that. Mother might have had them when father was first sent to the asylum for treatment. Although I remember hearing her once say that since father’s mind had become affected he would not trust any one with his affairs, but kept all his money and papers hidden away.”

“It’s too bad you haven’t the papers.”

“That’s so. If I had them I would hunt up Mr. Gaston, and get him to expose Randolph Fenton.”

“It might pay you to do that anyway.”

“I don’t know. If there was any likelihood of this being the case, I think Miss Bartlett would have written to that effect.”

“What do you intend to do?”

“I am going to write to her again, telling her just how matters stand with me, and ask her if she thinks it will do any good for me to come on. If she thinks it will, I’ll try to manage it some way to take a run to New York.”

“You can do that whenever you wish, Matt. I will take care of things the same as you did when I was gone.”

On the way to the stable where the wagon and Billy were located they talked the matter over at a greater length. Andy took a warm personal interest in the matter, and did not hesitate to say so.

“If this Fenton swindled your father, I trust you are able to prove it and get your money back,” he said. “I don’t know of any one that deserves money more than you do.”

The wagon was soon driven around to the store, and the goods unloaded. Then the show-window and the shelves were arranged to attract the eye, after which Andy hung out the red flag, which now began to look to the young auctioneers like an old friend.

As soon as everything was in shape for business Matt brought out paper, pen and ink, and set to work upon the letter to Ida Bartlett. At first he hardly knew how to express himself, but before he had finished he had filled eight pages, and told the young lady exactly how matters stood. He begged for her further assistance, and assured her that she should not lose through her kindness to him.

The letter finished, Matt did not place it in a letter-box, but marched with it to the post-office, that it might be included with the first out-going New York mail.

“If I only could find father,” he sighed to himself as he turned back to the store. “Something in my heart tells me that he is not dead, and yet, if this is so, where can he be?”

On arriving at the store he found Andy already busy with a crowd which had begun to collect the moment that the red flag was hung out. Matt had to begin work at once, and this was a good thing for the boy, for it kept him from brooding over his parent’s possible fate and thus growing melancholy.

“If I am any kind of a judge, we are going to do the best business yet at this city,” said Andy, as there came a little lull in trade. “It started off briskly, and it has kept on steadily ever since.”

“Well, that just suits me,” laughed Matt. “To my way of thinking we cannot do too much business.”

During the next day Matt noticed two sharp-eyed men hanging around the place a good deal. At first he paid no attention to them, but at last pointed them out to Andy.

“Yes, I noticed them myself,” returned the senior partner. “They do not look as if they wanted to buy, but just as if they were spying.”

“Supposing I call them in and ask them to buy?” suggested Matt, for both of the men were at that moment gazing in the window at the articles displayed there.

“Certainly, you can do that if you want to,” returned Andy.

So Matt walked from behind the counter toward the door, but before he could reach it one of the men saw him and spoke to his companion, and both hurried up the street and around the nearest corner.

“Humph! that’s queer, to say the least,” said the young auctioneer, and Andy agreed with him.

There had been a “To Let” bill upon the show-window of the vacant store next door, but on the following morning when the young auctioneers opened up they found the bill gone. The door of the store was open, and inside a boy somewhat younger than Matt was cleaning up.

“Hullo!” cried Matt, stopping short. Then he poked his head in at the door and confronted the boy.

“So we are going to have neighbors, eh?” he remarked pleasantly.

“Bet your life!” was the slangy reply from the boy, as soon as he had noted who had addressed him. “You didn’t expect us, did you?”

“No, I didn’t know the store was taken until a moment ago,” said Matt.

“Well, it can’t be helped. It was the only store vacant in the neighborhood.”

“Can’t be helped?” repeated Matt, somewhat puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, I thought you might object to our opening up alongside of you.”

“I don’t see why I should. What business are you in?”

“Same line.”

Matt was taken aback somewhat by this unexpected reply, and his face showed it.

“Do you mean to say you are going to open an auction store here?”

“That’s it, and we are going to make it everlastingly warm for you fellows, too,” went on the boy triumphantly. “We’ve been a-watching how you run things, and we are going to scoop every bit of trade when we get started.”

Matt drew a long breath. Here was certainly a new experience. He and Andy had expected to encounter rivals, but had never dreamed of having them at such close quarters.

“Well, I suppose we will have to stand it,” he said, hardly knowing how else to reply to the boy’s bragging statement.

“If I was you I’d pack up and try some other place,” went on the boy. “Gissem & Fillow will take every bit of trade – they always do wherever they go.”

“Gissem & Fillow? Are those the names of the men who run the concern?”

“Yes, and they are the slickest auctioneers in the country.”

“Perhaps you only think so.”

“Oh, I know it. I’ll bet you a new hat you don’t take in a dollar after we get a-going.”

“Thank you, but I don’t bet. May I ask where you came from?”

“We came from Stroudsburg.”

“Were you down in Bethlehem before that?”

“Yes. How did you know that?”

“We came through there after you had gone.”

“Bet you didn’t sell anything. We squeezed the town dry.”

“We didn’t sell much,” returned Matt. He was on the point of stating that he had heard how the folks had been swindled, but he changed his mind. “How long do you expect to remain here?”

“Oh, a week or so. You might as well pack up and leave.”

“I guess we will venture to remain, at least a day or two longer,” said Matt. “Perhaps we’ll be able to do a little in spite of you.”

At that moment a large wagon began to back up to the curb. The seat was occupied by two men, and Matt at once recognized them as the fellows he had caught hanging around the previous day. They were the rival auctioneers, who had been watching to learn how Matt and Andy conducted their business.