Young Auctioneers: or, The Polishing of a Rolling Stone

CHAPTER XXV.
A BITTER MISTAKE

Both Andy and the freight agent saw at once that Matt was right, and the jaw of the driver of the wagon dropped.

“Humph! I was certain he couldn’t cross right after such heavy rains,” he said moodily.

“But you see he has crossed,” went on the young auctioneer. “I will tell you what I’m going to do – wade across and see if I can’t strike the tracks on the other side.”

“You’ll get pretty wet, especially if you slip into a deep hole,” returned Andy.

“I’ll take off part of my clothing,” returned Matt, and he did so without delay.

The water was colder than he had anticipated, and he shivered slightly as he waded in deeper and deeper.

“Can you swim, should you slip?” called out Andy anxiously.

“Yes, I can swim,” returned Matt, “but I hope that won’t be necessary!”

Moving along cautiously where the rocks stuck up the highest, the young auctioneer worked his way slowly over to the island he had previously pointed out. It was painful work, for he had taken off his shoes, and now he found the bottom in many places cut his feet. But at last the island was reached, and he walked out upon the dry ground.

It did not take Matt long to discover the wagon tracks for which he was searching. They were close at hand, and led almost in a straight line across the little patch, which was not over two hundred feet in width.

“Here they are!” he shouted back to the others. “He went right across just as I supposed.”

“Humph! Now what is to be done?” questioned the agent, with a perplexed look upon his face.

“We must cross and follow him,” replied Andy determinedly.

“Do you want me to take the horse and wagon across?”

“Why not? The thief took that heavily loaded wagon over. I guess this light affair will go over all right.”

The agent was doubtful about this, and rubbed his chin reflectively.

“I might drive on till I got to a bridge, or turn back to one,” he suggested.

“That would take too long,” returned Matt’s partner impatiently. “We must ‘strike while the iron is hot,’ as the saying is.”

“Come on!” shouted Matt from the island. “Come straight over and you will be all right.”

“Well, we can make the venture, but I am a bit shaky over it,” said the freight agent, and with a face full of the concern he felt for his turn-out he headed his trotter toward the water.

At first the horse was inclined to shy to one side. He pranced up and down a bit and dug into the sand and loose stones with his hoofs.

“You can see he don’t want to go,” said the driver. “I really think we had better find a bridge.”

“Oh, nonsense! give me the reins!” returned Andy sharply, seeing that the fellow was altogether too easily frightened. “I will take him over safely.”

“Don’t be too sure!” cried the agent in alarm. “He will break at the least little thing!”

But Andy would not listen to him further. He took the reins, and holding them firmly, tapped the trotter with the whip.

The horse made a rush into the water, and in less than ten seconds the wagon was in up to the axles.

“We will be drowned! We will be drowned!” cried the agent in sudden terror. “I can’t swim!”

“We won’t be drowned. Just you hold on and keep quiet,” returned Andy shortly.

“But – but we are going deeper!”

“Not much deeper. I can still see the bottom.”

“Supposing we should slip – or Flip should slip?”

“Or we had an earthquake,” added Andy, utterly disgusted with the freight agent’s actions. “Don’t you want to get back those cases, or do you prefer to pay for them?”

This last remark effectually silenced the man. He clung to the seat looking badly scared, but he offered no more suggestions.

With due caution, but as rapidly as possible, Andy drove the horse over the rocks, carefully avoiding such spots as he thought might be extra deep or slippery. Matt, on the island, shouted several directions to him; and thus the journey was safely accomplished.

“Good so far!” cried the young auctioneer, when the horse was once more on dry ground. “That was easy enough.”

“Easier than I thought it would be!” exclaimed the freight agent, with a deep breath of relief. “I wish we were over all the way!”

“The second trip will be easier than the first was,” remarked Andy. “It is much more shallow.”

“I will wade ahead and make sure of the way,” put in Matt, and without loss of time he started out.

It was not so deep toward the Pennsylvania shore, but the current appeared to run swifter, and the boy had all he could do when up to his thighs to keep his feet. But the horse and wagon came along all right, and inside of ten minutes they were high and dry upon the opposite bank.

Here it did not take long to rediscover the tracks made by the auction turn-out, and as soon as Matt could don what clothing he had taken off, they started to follow it up once more.

“I can’t see why he crossed the river in that fashion,” grumbled the freight agent, as he tapped his horse with the whip.

“I can,” returned Andy. “He did it to throw us off the track. He had no time to get rid of the signs on the wagon, and he knew we would learn, sooner or later, in what direction he had gone. But he thought we would not find out how he had crossed and would think that he had kept along on the eastern bank.”

On and on they went, over the rocky roads, now through a sharp cut between the mountains, and then again around a curve overlooking some tiny stream far below.

“A beautiful place,” said Matt, as his eyes rested on a particularly beautiful bit of picturesque scenery. “How can people stick in the stuffy city when there is so much like this going to waste, so to speak?”

“That’s a conundrum,” returned Andy. “But I have heard it said that many city-born folks would rather die between brick walls than live amid green fields.”

“Just look at those rocks and trees, and listen to those birds sing!”

“It is truly grand, that’s a fact,” returned Andy. “Do you know, if I was wealthy, I believe I would like nothing better than to spend all of my summer in among the mountains.”

“And that would just suit me,” returned Matt enthusiastically, and then he suddenly sobered down. “But we are not rich, Andy, and unless we get back our turn-out we’ll be as poor as ever.”

“Oh, we’ll have to catch that thief,” put in the freight agent. “He can’t be many miles ahead.”

“The trouble is it’s growing dark, and we can hardly see the wagon tracks any more,” said the young auctioneer.

“It grows dark early in among the mountains,” remarked Andy. “If the land was level, it would be light enough.”

On they went, passing through several little hamlets. At each of these places they inquired about the auction wagon, and were told that it had passed through, the man driving at almost top speed.

“He is going to get away as far as he can before he puts up for the night,” said Andy. “I do not believe we will catch him until we reach the place at which he is stopping.”

“My trotter is not used to this sort of thing,” said the freight agent. “He is beginning to play out.”

“At the next town we reach we can hire a horse,” said Matt. “And you can go back if you wish. There is no telling how long this chase may last.”

“I ought to be back attending to business,” was the agent’s reply. “My clerk can hardly take my place. Would you two be willing to go on alone?”

“Certainly,” returned Andy.

The next place, a village of perhaps twenty or thirty houses and half a dozen stores, was soon reached. There was a small tavern, and they drove up to this. Alighting, Matt ran inside and questioned the half a score of loungers concerning the auction wagon.

Every man in the place shook his head. The wagon had not been seen in the village. Nearly all of the men had just come in from work, and every one said that had the wagon been on the main road at all he would have seen it.

Matt listened with a sinking heart, and as Andy came in he grasped his partner by the shoulder.

“We have made a mistake,” he said faintly.

“A mistake, Matt?”

“Yes. The wagon did not come here at all. We are on the wrong track!”

CHAPTER XXVI.
SOMETHING OF A SURPRISE

Andy was certainly as much dismayed as Matt at the discovery which had been made. Just at the time when they supposed that they were drawing closer to the object of their chase, they found that they were most likely further away than ever. The older member of the firm gave another groan, and this was supplemented by another from the freight agent.

“I knew he couldn’t cross that river,” growled the latter. “Now, just see what a wild goose chase you have led us!”

“Oh, he crossed the river, there is no doubt of that!” returned Matt quickly. “But where we got off the track was somewhere among the mountains. We dropped the right track and took something that resembled it.”

“Yes, that must be the truth of the matter,” put in Andy. “It’s too bad!”

“What’s it all about, anyway?” questioned the tavern-keeper curiously.

In a few brief words Andy explained matters, while not only the tavern-keeper, but also the others in the place, listened with deep interest.

“Any reward offered for catching the rascal?” questioned one of the men present, a brawny individual – evidently a mountaineer.

“Yes,” returned Matt quickly. “How much shall we offer, Andy?” he asked in a whisper.

“Twenty-five dollars would not be too much,” returned his partner. “It is quite a sum to us, I know, but I guess we would rather have our turn-out back a dozen times over.”

“We will give twenty-five dollars in cash for the return of our horse, wagon and goods,” said Matt, in a voice loud enough for all to hear.

“Twenty-five dollars in cash!” repeated several, and it was plain to see that this offer was regarded as quite liberal.

“What kind of a looking turn-out is it?” was next asked.

Matt described Billy and the wagon. All listened attentively, and when he had finished the mountaineer who had first spoken tapped him on the shoulder.

“I’ll go out with ye and hunt him up, stranger.”

“So will I!” cried another.

“And I!” added a third, and soon six men stood ready to continue the search with Andy and Matt.

Seeing this, the freight agent decided to drive back home, taking a much better road, which led down to Easton. He did not lose any time in starting, and, if the truth must be told, both Andy and Matt were glad to be rid of him.

After he had gone the auctioneers procured another horse and wagon from the tavern-keeper and also a couple of lanterns. The mountaineer had a mule upon which he rode, and the other men went along on foot.

They traveled the road by which the young auctioneers had come. The village was situated in a small open spot, and now, when they once more found themselves between the mountains, they were enveloped in a darkness which the rays of the lanterns scarcely dispersed.

They traveled along as rapidly as possible, and inside of half an hour came to a fork in the road which Matt had had in mind since the discovery of their mistake had been made.

“We will examine the ground here,” he said. “It is more than likely he branched off here.”

He was soon hard at work, and all of the others with him. The wagon track they had followed was very plainly to be seen, and now Matt saw, at a spot which was covered with loose stones, where the thief had branched off with his stolen outfit.

“That is the road he took,” he announced to the others. “Had we followed him from here in the first place we would most likely have caught up to him by this time.”

“Is that ’ere track the right one?” questioned the mountaineer eagerly.

“I believe it is.”

“Then I’m off fer the reward!” shouted the brawny fellow. “Git up, Bones!” and he slapped the mule with the flat of his hand, and was off without another word.

“Ramson will get it, sure,” grumbled one of the other men. “No use for us to go any further.”

And he turned on his heel and started back for the village, followed by most of the others, leaving a single man to race after the mountaineer on foot.

Matt and Andy were not slow to urge their fresh horse forward. But the way was now even darker than before and also rougher, and it was with difficulty that the wagon moved along.

“I don’t believe he went very far on this road,” said Matt, bringing the horse to a halt. “I am going to follow that track on foot.”

He sprang down from the seat, and with the light close to the ground, moved along in front of the horse. It was well that he did so, for hardly had he advanced a hundred feet than he uttered a cry and came to a halt.

“What’s up now?” questioned Andy, peering forward through the gloom.

“He turned off here and went into the brush on the left. Don’t you see the tracks?”

“But there is no road through the brush. He would lose his way and get caught among the rocks further back.”

“I have an idea that he drove away in here to hide the wagon,” suddenly cried Matt. “He could very well do that, you know, and then ride off on horseback to some place and put up for the night.”

“By the boots, I believe you are right!” returned Andy. “Why, of course that is just what he has done! How stupid of us not to think of that before.”

“I hope the wagon is still O. K.,” went on Matt. “It would be hard work to get a spring fixed in this out-of-the-way place.”

“Well, we must find the wagon first. Supposing we tie up and go ahead on foot.”

“I’m willing.”

They were soon side by side, making their way through the brush and around the rocks as rapidly as they could.

“Let us go forward as silently as possible!” suddenly whispered the boy. “Barberry may still be around, and if that is so we want to surprise him.”

“That’s a good idea! What a pity we can’t put out the light.”

“We can’t do without it. The track is growing fainter. We are coming to almost solid rock.”

On and on they pushed, until Andy calculated that they had covered a distance of five hundred feet from the main road. Then they found themselves on the verge of a deep ravine, with a high wall of rock to the left of them.

“Phew! supposing he drove over that!” shuddered Andy, as he pointed into the blackness of the hollow. “That must be a hundred feet or more deep.”

“He went to the right, Andy – the only way he could go. Have you any matches with you?”

“Yes. What do you want of them?”

“I am going to put out the light, for I fancy the wagon is not far off, and the thief may be around also. If we wish we can light up again later on.”

Matt did as he had intimated, and the two found themselves in a darkness that was simply intense to the last degree. They could not see their hands before their faces, and had to literally feel their way along.

Matt went first, with his partner holding on to the hem of his jacket. They had progressed but a dozen feet when, on rounding a high rock, the young auctioneer stopped once more.

“I was right,” he whispered. “The wagon is directly ahead.”

“How do you know?”

“I can see the lantern, which is standing on the seat.”

“Then the thief must still be around,” returned Andy excitedly.

“I suppose so, but I don’t see any one. Come on, but don’t make any noise, or he may run away, and I think he ought to be captured and locked up.”

“Certainly he ought to be placed under arrest. I am ready. Won’t he be surprised when he sees us!”

Once again they moved forward toward where the auction wagon stood beneath the shelter of a large tree. Matt noted that Billy had been unharnessed and was tied to the rear, where he was engaged in making a meal of some feed which had been given him.

“Barberry is making himself at home evidently,” murmured the young auctioneer to himself. “That fellow certainly has nerve!”

“Hold up!” suddenly cried Andy, catching the boy by the arm.

“What’s up, Andy?”

“Look there, to your right!”

Matt did as directed, and saw a sight which both amazed and alarmed him. There, by a little fire built to keep them comfortable in the night air, sat two burly men, drinking and smoking. Neither of the individuals was Paul Barberry.

CHAPTER XXVII.
TIMELY ASSISTANCE

“Those fellows must be the thieves,” whispered Andy, as he pointed to the pair beneath the tree.

“I believe you are right,” returned Matt. “If so, we have made a big mistake. Neither of them is Paul Barberry, and I was almost certain he was the thief.”

“So was I, Matt. But never mind that now. What worries me is the fact that there are two of them.”

“Yes, and they both look like strong fellows,” returned the young auctioneer, as he surveyed the pair. “If they get ugly when we claim the turn-out we may have a lively time with them.”

“Well, we are in the right, and we must stick up for our own.”

“Of course we’ll do that,” cried Matt determinedly. “But I say, wouldn’t it be best if we each got a stout stick? They may show fight if they fancy we are beyond outside aid.”

“Perhaps we can bluff them into believing that we have the village authorities at our back,” suggested Andy. “I would rather frighten them off than run the risk of coming off second best in a set-to with them.”

“Hi! what are you fellows doing here?” suddenly demanded a voice just behind Andy. “Do you belong – what, you?”

And the speaker, none other than Paul Barberry, stepped back in amazement.

“What’s the trouble there, Barberry?” cried one of the men by the fire, and both sprang up in alarm.

“Why, here are the – the – a couple of young fellows,” stammered the corn salve doctor. He was so surprised he could hardly speak. “How did you get here?” he asked slowly.

“Never mind that,” returned Matt. “I imagine you know what we are here for.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Really!” returned Andy sarcastically. “Well, then, let me tell you that we came for our horse and wagon and stock.”

“I haven’t anything of yours,” returned Paul Barberry, gradually recovering from his surprise. In making a circle around the improvised camp he had stumbled upon them quite unexpectedly. “You talk as if I was a thief.”

“Didn’t you run off with that horse and wagon?” demanded Matt.

“Run off with it? No, why should I? The outfit belongs to me. Isn’t that so, boys?” and the corn salve doctor turned to his burly companions.

“Why, of course it does!” returned the men.

A thunderbolt from the sky at that moment would not have taken Andy and Matt more by surprise than did this statement. Paul Barberry’s assurance actually staggered them, and neither could speak for the moment.

“That outfit belongs to you?” cried Matt at length.

“Of course.”

“That’s the biggest falsehood I ever heard in my life!” burst out Andy. “You know very well that everything there belongs to us.”

“I know no such thing,” returned Barberry coldly. “I bought the outfit from you, and you know it. These gentlemen know it also.”

And he waved his hand toward his companions.

“Certainly, we know all about it,” said one of the men.

“Yes, we saw the money paid over,” added the second fellow.

Matt and Andy looked at each other. Each knew very well that the other had never made any bargain for the sale of the turn-out and stock. The whole scheme was one of the corn doctor to get possession of their belongings.

“See here, Barberry, there is no use for you to talk in this fashion,” went on Matt, as calmly as he could, although he was worked up to the top notch of excitement. “You know very well that you are asserting that which is not true. The outfit belongs to us, and you haven’t the shadow of an interest in it. You stole it from the Phillipsburg freight depot, and – ”

“Stop that!” blustered the corn salve doctor. “How dare you call me a thief, boy?”

“That is what you are, and nothing less. If you – ”

“Do you hear that, fellows?” interrupted Barberry, turning to the two men.

“You want to keep a civil tongue in your head, boy!” cried one of the men sharply. “Calling a man a thief is a serious business.”

“And being a thief is still more serious,” replied Andy. “Perhaps you fancy you can bluff us, as the saying is, but you are mistaken. This turn-out is ours, and we are here to claim it. If you molest us in the least we will hand you all over to the police.”

“We can stand up for ourselves,” returned the man with a deep scowl. “We are three to two, and we are armed.”

“So you would use force to retain our property, eh?” said Andy.

“We do not admit that it is your property.”

“But it is. Now let me tell you something. We stopped at the village just north of here, and got the assistance of nearly a dozen men. They are scattered about, and should you attempt to molest us I shall give them a signal – ”

“Not much you won’t!” cried the man addressed, and springing forward, he clapped his hand over Andy’s mouth. “Tend to the other one, fellows, I can manage this one!”

“All right,” returned his companion, and he, as well as Paul Barberry, fell upon Matt.

The attack had been so sudden that Andy and Matt were hardly prepared to defend themselves. The former was forced over on his back, and despite his utmost exertions, was unable to remove his assailant’s hand from his mouth.

Matt was thrown over on his side, and while Paul Barberry held one of his arms, the other man tried to force him into silence.

“Make a single sound and I’ll kick you in the face,” he ejaculated in a low, but intense tone.

“Help! help!” cried Matt, ignoring the threat entirely, and he continued to call out so long as his breath lasted.

The burly ruffian tried to kick him as he had promised, but with his disengaged hand Matt caught his foot, and after dancing about to regain his balance, the man came down heavily across the young auctioneer’s legs.

The force of the fall was so great that Matt cried out shrilly with pain. For the moment he imagined that both of his limbs must be broken.

“Clap your hand over his mouth, Barberry!” cried the burly man, as he struggled to regain his feet. “Confound you, boy, I’ll teach you to throw me!”

He sprang at Matt, but not before the young auctioneer had had a chance to turn over and spring up. Matt realized what was at stake, and knew he must fight his best or the worst would happen.

Before the man could touch him Matt placed Barberry between them. Then he gave the corn doctor a push that sent him staggering up against his companion.

In the meantime, poor Andy was still flat on his back, unable to speak or to move. His assailant was on top of him, and there did not appear to be any immediate relief in sight.

Seeing this, Matt, as soon as he had freed himself, leaped to his partner’s assistance. He caught the ruffian by the shoulders, and with a sharp jerk sent him sprawling flat upon his back on a number of sharp stones.

“Go at them with stones, Andy,” shouted Matt, as he himself stooped to pick up a small rock which lay at his feet. “We ought to show them no mercy!”

“That’s true,” panted his partner as he followed the suggestion by arming himself with several handy missiles. “They are a set of cowards in my opinion.”

“We’ll show you if we are!” cried the fellow who had first attacked Matt. “Come on, Barberry, we must make them prisoners!”

And once more he sprang forward, while the fellow on his back, with a groan of pain, staggered up to lend his assistance in the struggle.

But now came help for Matt and Andy from an unexpected quarter. There was a crashing through the brush, and a tall form the thieves did not recognize burst into view. It was Ramson, the mountaineer.

“Wot’s a-going on here, anyway?” shouted the mountaineer in a tone of wonder. “Fighting worse nor a lot of bears, I declare! Wot’s it all about?”

“Help us, won’t you?” cried Matt. “These are the fellows who stole the turn-out, and they will not give it up.”

“Won’t, hey? Well, it’s your’n, ain’t it?”

“It certainly is, and if you will help us you shall have that reward,” put in Andy. “This is the main thief, and the other two are helping him,” and he pointed to Paul Barberry.

Without more ceremony, the tall mountaineer strode forward and caught Barberry by the shoulder and gave him such a twist about that the pretended doctor howled with pain.

“These two young men are honest fellows, I take it,” he said. “And if you imagine you can do them out of their rights you are mistaken, at least so long as I am around. Now just you stand still while I attend to your helpers, and I’ll – hullo! if they ain’t gone and run away!”

Ramson was right. Hardly had he made his little speech than Paul Barberry’s two companions had taken time by the forelock and made a rush for the brush. Matt and Andy dashed after them, but it was useless, for a few seconds later they disappeared in the darkness.