CHAPTER XX.
ACCUSED OF STEALING.
It was plain to see that the store-keeper who had thus thrust himself into the young auctioneer's business was not in high favor with the residents of the country town. To tell the truth, the man was not liked by any one, and was only patronized by force of circumstances or through long-standing habit. He was a thoroughly mean man, and the fact that his trade had been falling off steadily for several years had not tended to sweeten his temper.
"Thet's one on Ike Marvelling, sure!" laughed a young man near the auction stand.
"Yes, an' Ike deserves it," returned a woman beside him. "He has no right to come in here and abuse the boy."
"That's so, he ain't," added another woman.
"Ike was always high-priced in everything," remarked a jolly-faced farmer. "If he had Pickle Mountain to sell he would want double price for it."
This bit of humor caused a laugh at the storekeeper's expense, and put him in even worse humor than had Matt's caustic remarks.
"See here, I didn't come in here to be abused!" he cried, addressing the young auctioneer in a bullying tone.
"You were not asked in here at all, to my knowledge," returned Matt. "And you should have remained away unless you intended to do the right thing."
"See here, boy, what do you mean?"
"What would you think of me if I came over to your store and told your customers that I could sell them goods cheaper than you could? I rather guess you would be for running me out—and mighty lively, too!"
"That he would!" laughed several. "He wouldn't give you time to open your mouth."
"I came in here because I know all these auction sales—they ain't really auctions at all—are frauds!" blustered Isaac Marvelling, finding it hard to say anything in the face of so much opposition. "These chaps oughten to be allowed to sell a thing—they swindle folks so, and if I had my way, the constable would"
"Stop right there!" interrupted Matt, his eyes flashing. "When you insinuate that I am a swindler, you go too far. You must take back those words!" "Must I?" sneered the store-keeper. "Well, I reckon not."
"Very well, then." Matt turned to several men standing by the door. "Will one of you gentlemen kindly call in the constable or some other officer?"
"What—what do you mean?" asked Isaac Marvelling in a lower tone, and much disturbed.
"I mean to have you put out as a disorderly character, that's what I mean," returned Matt firmly. "I have paid my license, and so long as I do business on the square I do not intend to allow any one to bulldoze me or call me a swindler."
"That's right! That's right!" cried several men in the crowd, and the woman who had first spoken nodded approvingly.
"You're a mighty big boy!" sneered the storekeeper, but all noticed that he retreated several steps toward the open doorway.
"I am big enough to defend myself," replied the young auctioneer quickly. "I want you to leave. I am no more of a swindler than you are—perhaps not as much. I am conducting this business on an honest basis, and I will not stand by and let you or any one else blacken my character."
"We'll see—we'll see," muttered Isaac Marvelling, and greatly enraged, but unable to say a word in his own defense, and fearful that an officer might appear, he withdrew.
This little incident served to make Matt many friends. People always like to see persons stick up for their rights, and in this particular case they were pleased to see the mean store-keeper "talked-down," as he well deserved to be.
The album was again put up, and after consider able talking was knocked down to Podders, the very individual Isaac Marvelling had endeavored to persuade away from the sale. Matt purposely let Podders have the album quite cheaply, and as soon as it was his Podders declared he would call at Marvelling's store and see if it could be duplicated at the price he had paid.
The young auctioneer knew this could not be done, and he offered to buy the album back at double the price should Podders succeed.
This pleased the farmer, and also many others, and, as a consequence, Matt had a brisk run of luck until closing-up time. The boy felt highly elated, especially when, on counting up the cash, he found he had taken in sixteen dollars, one third of which was profit.
On the following morning another heavy rain came up, and Matt found it of no advantage to open up for business. Shortly after dinner Andy came back from New York, and to him Matt related all that had occurred.
"That's right, Matt, always stick up when you are in the right, and you'll come out on top," said the senior partner of the firm.
Andy had struck several decided bargains in goods in the metropolis, and had invested every dollar of available cash. He had had all of the goods shipped to Phillipsburg, the next stopping place, and said they would most likely find them at the freight depot upon their arrival there.
During the afternoon it cleared up, and people began to drift into the shop. Andy opened up the sale, and by evening both of the partners were quite busy. When he went to supper Matt saw Isaac Marvelling, but the store-keeper only favored him with a deep scowl.
"I suppose he would like to chew my head off if he dared," laughed the young auctioneer, as he related the occurrence to Andy.
"No doubt of it, Matt. He feels sore, especially as we are selling just such goods as he has displayed in his window, and at about half the price."
"Well, we won't worry him after tonight," smiled Matt, for the start for Phillipsburg was to be made on the following morning.
After closing up the sale that night, the wagon was once more packed, so that they might be on the way at an early hour. The stock on hand was growing lighter, and they were glad to know that more goods would await them upon their arrival.
"We are doing famously," remarked Andy. "If we keep on we shall soon be rich."
"I want to pay back Miss Bartlett what she loaned me as soon as I can."
"I reckon she is in no hurry. You had better keep some cash on hand in case of an emergency."
The work of selling goods and packing the wagon had tired Matt considerably, but his mind was too much aroused to go to sleep at once, and so he started out for a short walk before retiring.
He knew very little of the roads around the village, but he was confident that he would not get lost, especially as it was a bright starlight night.
He passed the shop where the sales had been conducted, and then branched off on a road that, but a short distance away crossed a tiny brook.
At the brook he paused, and then, struck with a sudden fancy, he left the bridge to go down and bathe his hands and face in the cool, running water.
He had hardly leaped from the bridge to the rocks below when a sudden noise beside him caused him to start back. Almost at the same time a dark form passed under the bridge and was lost to view in the bashes beyond. It looked somewhat like the form of a man, but Matt was not sure.
"That was queer," thought the young auctioneer, as he paused, in perplexity. "Was that a man, or only some animal?"
Disturbed at the occurrence, Matt leaped up upon the bridge again, without having touched the water. He had hardly come up into the starlight when two men came rushing toward him from the road.
"Who's that?" cried one of the men.
"That must be the man!" cried the other, and Matt recognized Isaac Marvelling's voice. "Catch hold of him, Jackson."
In another moment the two men stood beside Matt. As he recognized the young auctioneer, Isaac Marvelling set up a cry of surprise and triumph.
"I told you so!" he declared. "I said them auction fellows weren't no better than thieves! This is the chap that broke in my store, Jackson, I feel sure of it! I want him arrested, and you had better handcuff him so that he can't get away from you! No wonder they can sell cheap, when they steal their goods!"