Young Auctioneers: or, The Polishing of a Rolling Stone

“I hope we do well,” returned Matt. “We need a good start, for as yet our ready funds are rather low.”

“You will have your first chance to do a bit of regular auctioneering,” smiled Andy. “I trust you are not nervous over the prospects.”

“Never mind if I am,” returned Matt bravely. “I am going to do my best. If I get nervous I’ll get over it just as quickly as I can.”

Some time before sundown they entered Plainfield; half an hour later they found a suitable stopping place, and then Andy went off to secure some stand where they might do business.

He came back in an hour and stated that he had secured an empty store, which would be much better than selling from the wagon.

“The store will only cost us a dollar a day as long as we use it, and we ought to be able to make that much more out of it,” he said.

They went to work that night transferring the stock from the wagon to the store shelves, and when this was finished both set to work to wash and dress the show window.

On the following morning at ten o’clock, they hung out a red flag, and then the Eureka Auction Co. was ready for business.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE YOUNG AUCTIONEER

“I feel like a cat in a strange garret!” exclaimed Matt, as he walked up and down behind the counter on a raised platform he and Andy had placed there. “This is like going into cold water an inch at a time. I would rather plunge in head first.”

“Then here goes,” cried Andy, catching up an accordion that stood close at hand. “Let us see what we can do toward drawing a crowd in. There must be something going on, for the streets are filling up with people.”

“There is a cheap circus to exhibit. I saw the posters. Perhaps they intend to give a parade.”

“Most likely. Get your banjo, Matt, and let us give them our best selection.”

Matt did as requested; and as the music rang out those on the pavement began to pause, and half a dozen stopped at the open door and peered in.

“Come right in! Come right in!” shouted Andy. “The auction is now about to begin, and you don’t want to miss the chance of your lives!”

“Plenty of room for everybody!” shouted Matt directly after him. His voice was a trifle unsteady through excitement. “Don’t wait outside, but secure a good place, where you can hear and see all that is going on. You need not buy if you do not wish. One more tune, ladies and gentlemen, and then we will show you the best bargains ever exhibited in this city. That’s right, come right in!”

Thus urged, the folks began to drift in, singly and in pairs, until, when the next tune was finished, the store held perhaps twenty-five men, women and boys. Several children had tried to enter, but Andy had shook his head at them, and thus kept them outside.

“Say, what’s them pocket-knives worth?” asked one old man evidently from the country, as he pointed to a board stuck full of the glittering blades.

“Which knife, sir?” asked Matt, in a business-like way.

“That one with the buckhorn handle and prunin’ blade.”

“That sir, is one of our best knives. Well made, of the best steel, and one that ought to last you a good many years. What do you offer for it, sir?”

“Offer?” repeated the old man in astonishment.

“Yes, sir, make an offer, please.”

“Ain’t you got no price sot on it?”

“No, sir; this is an auction store, and we take what we can get for a thing. Come, make an offer.”

“I’ll give ye a quarter for it,” said the old man after considerable hesitation.

“A quarter I am offered for this beautiful knife!” shouted Matt, taking up the blade and holding it up so that all might see it. “It is a knife with four strong blades, a buckhorn handle, well riveted, and extra-tempered springs, fully warranted. A quarter, ladies and gentlemen; who says thirty cents?”

“Thirty!” returned a young man, after an examination of the knife.

“Thirty cents I am offered. Thirty! thirty! Some one make it thirty-five – ”

“Thirty-five cents!” put in the old countryman. “I guess that knife is wuth that to me.”

“Forty!” said the young man promptly. He appeared to be rich, and was bidding more to tease the old countryman than because he desired the knife.

“Forty I am offered!” sang out Matt, who did not care who obtained the knife, so long as a good figure was reached. “Forty! forty! Come, gentlemen, a bit higher than that, please!”

“Forty-five cents, and that’s more than a good price,” grumbled the old countryman, who had, however, set his heart on the knife the moment he had first seen it.

“Half a dollar!” sang out the young man promptly.

“Fifty cents I am offered!” went on Matt, in a business-like way. “Fifty cents, gentlemen, for a knife that ought to be in every one’s pocket – a knife worth having! Who says seventy-five!”

Matt knew very well that no one in the crowd would make such a jump, but he hoped to cause the old man to bid again, and his hope was realized. Instead of going to fifty-five, the countryman offered sixty cents.

He had hardly made the offer when the young man, thinking he had aroused the old man to a state of recklessness in which he would keep on bidding, offered seventy-five cents for the knife.

“Seventy-five cents I am offered!” cried Matt. “Who makes it a dollar – ninety – eight-five – eighty?” and he glanced inquiringly at the old countryman.

But the old man shook his head.

“Not a penny over seventy-five cents,” he muttered in a low tone.

“Seventy-five!” went on Matt. “Come, now, raise it just a bit! The knife is really worth it. Who says eighty? Seventy-five-five-five! Last call, remember! Going, going – gone! to that young man for seventy-five cents!”

And Matt held out the knife to the last bidder, and motioned to Andy to collect the money.

The young man grew red and drew back.

“Oh, pshaw! I didn’t want the knife!” he grumbled. “Put it up again, maybe you’ll get a bigger price for it,” and he began to edge his way toward the door.

“Hold on! Not so fast!” said Andy, in a low voice, as he caught him by the arm. “This company doesn’t do business that way. If you did not wish the knife you should not have bid for it. We are not running this store for fun.”

The young man looked at him impudently. But the clear, stern eyes of Matt’s partner made him wilt, and muttering something under his breath about getting square, he paid over the amount, took the knife, and sneaked out of the now crowded store.

In the meantime, the old countryman was about to leave, disappointed over his failure to secure the prize he coveted. He wished just such a knife, and knew that he would have to pay a dollar or more at the hardware store for it.

“Wait a minute, please,” said Matt to him. “I have another such a knife. If you wish it you can have it at the same figure that the young man paid.”

“Let’s look at the knife.”

The countryman made a careful examination of the blade, and finally agreed to take it.

“I’ll send my son Tom around for an accordion,” he said, before leaving. “He’s dead stuck on music, Tom is.”

“Thank you, we shall be pleased to see him,” returned Matt politely, and the old countryman went off much pleased over the way he had been treated.

At a word from Andy, Matt brought the entire board of knives out so that all might examine them.

“Seventy-five cents was the auction price,” he explained. “So any one can step up and take his or her choice for that amount. They are well worth your inspection. Any of the knives will stick, but you can’t get stuck on a single one of them.”

This little joke made the crowd laugh, and a dozen or more pressed forward to look at the knives. One young man bought a pearl-handled article, and a young lady bought one which contained a lead pencil and a button-hook.

While Matt was making these sales Andy was busy showing off the merits of several articles of bric-a-brac which a bevy of ladies were admiring. He told them how he had obtained them at a sacrifice sale, and was thus enabled to sell them quite reasonable. The lady who led the party did not wish to bid on the articles at auction, so Andy very obligingly set a figure, and after some little haggling, the lady took three dollars’ worth of goods, to be delivered at her house on the outskirts of the city.

By this time both of the young auctioneers were certain that they were going to have a good day’s sales.

“That circus has brought the people out,” whispered Andy to Matt. “We were very fortunate to strike here when we did. We must make the most of the day.”

“What shall I try next?” asked Matt. “I have sold four of the knives.”

“Try something small, for they won’t want to carry bulky packages with them. I see there are a lot of young fellows drifting in. You might get out the mouth harmonicas and interest them in them. I’ll show those ladies the jewelry, and try to make some more private sales.”

To this Matt agreed, and he was soon playing a lively air that caused all of the young men and boys to gather around him.

“Any one can play if he has music in him and such an instrument as this in his possession,” he argued, after he had finished. “To show that it is all right and in perfect tune, I will put up the one I have been playing upon. How much am I offered?”

“Ten cents!” cried a boy standing close at hand.

“Ten cents I am offered. Ten ce – ”

Matt got no farther, for at that moment a loud cry upon the street drowned out every other sound.

“Look out for the bear! He is mad!”

“He is coming this way!”

“Scatter for your lives!”

These and a hundred other cries rent the air. Then came a crash of window glass, and the next moment a huge brown bear leaped into the show window, not over two yards away from where Matt was standing.

CHAPTER XV.

THE CHARMS OF MUSIC

For the moment after the brown bear crashed through the glass and landed in the show window of the auction store Matt was too astonished to move.

The entrance of the great beast, which had undoubtedly escaped from the circus men during the parade, was so totally unexpected that all in the place were too paralyzed with fear to move.

Screams of terror rent the air, and to these the brown bear added a growl which was both deep and angry.

Andy, who stood some distance behind Matt, was the first to do any rational talking.

“Grab the pistol, Matt!” he exclaimed. “Grab it quick!”

The weapon to which Andy referred was lying under the counter, just in front of the boy. It had been purchased by the firm and placed there in case some ugly person raised a dispute, or a sneak-thief tried to run off with any article. Andy had said that the mere sight of a pistol would often bring matters to terms when words had no effect.

Matt understood his partner’s cry, and he lost no time in acting upon it. He caught up the pistol, and at once aimed it at the bear’s head.

Whether or not the beast understood that his life was in danger would be hard to say, but no sooner had the weapon been pointed at him than he arose on his hind legs and emitted a growl that was fairly blood-curdling to the involuntary listeners.

Matt did not claim to be a crack shot, having had but slight experience in pistol practice, and, even in that moment of peril, he hesitated to shoot, fearful of missing the bear and striking some one on the sidewalk outside.

“Clear the way out there!” he cried. “Clear the way, or you may get shot!”

His words had the effect of scattering the few venturesome persons who had collected to see what the bear might do. In the meantime those in the store ran out of the open doors as quickly as they could. Andy alone remained with his partner, arming himself with the longest carving-knife the stock afforded.

Once on his hind legs the brown bear hesitated in his movements. He was separated from Matt by five feet of space between the show window and the raised platform upon which the boy stood. He did not seem to wish to leap the span, nor did he appear inclined to step down to the floor and then up upon the platform.

“Why don’t you let him have it?” yelled Andy, as he saw Matt raise the pistol and then lower it again.

“I don’t believe he’s so mad after all,” returned the boy. “I’m not going to shoot until I have to. Say!” he went on suddenly, “give him a tune on one of the accordions.”

“What’s that?” gasped Andy in astonishment.

“Play him a tune. He may be a trained bear, and if so, the music may soothe him.”

Andy at once caught Matt’s idea, and, taking up an accordion which stood close at hand, he began a lively tune of a popular sort.

At the first bars of the tune the brown bear appeared surprised. He raised himself up higher than ever on his hind legs, until his head touched the top of the show window. Then he started as if to dance, crashing over every article which was on exhibition. Finding he could not dance in the limited space around him, he leaped to the pavement outside, and there, to the bystanders’ amazement and relief, began to execute a clumsy jig.

“He’s dancing, sure enough!” cried Andy. “That was a good idea of yours, Matt.”

“Keep it up until his keepers come,” returned the boy. “Lively, now, Andy, for playing means something.”

Andy continued to play, and as the brown bear began to dance more heartily than ever, the people, who a moment before had been so frightened, gathered about and began to laugh.

“That’s better than shooting him,” remarked one man.

“Indeed, it is,” returned another. “Keep it up, young fellow!”

And Andy did keep it up until two keepers appeared, hatless and almost out of breath, and took the bear in charge.

“Doxie would have been all right,” one of them explained; “but while he was performing on the square below some mischievous boy threw some pepper in his mouth.”

“Yes, and Doxie went after him,” added the other. “It’s lucky for the boy that he got out of sight, for had Doxie caught him he would have chewed him up.”

“I am very thankful that he did not do any further damage,” said Matt. “I thought I would have to shoot him,” and he exhibited the pistol.

“It’s lucky for you that you didn’t shoot Doxie,” cried the head keeper. “You would have been a couple of hundred out of pocket.”

“That reminds me,” put in Andy. “Who is going to pay for that smashed show window and the ruined goods?”

At this the faces of the two keepers fell. The brown bear had been in their keeping, and they knew that the proprietor of the circus would hold them responsible for any damage done.

“Well, that is not our fault,” returned the head keeper blandly. “I reckon you will have to bear the loss yourselves.”

“Indeed, not!” cried Matt. “The owner of this bear will pay every cent.”

“Well, go on and see him, then,” returned the keeper curtly, and throwing a chain over the bear’s head, he started to lead the animal away.

“Hold on,” said Andy quietly but firmly. “You will not take that bear away until this matter is settled. Matt, see if you can find a policeman.”

A policeman was close at hand, and he was at once summoned. A long altercation followed, in which the keepers tried to disown any responsibility in the matter.

“Whom does the bear belong to?” questioned Andy at last.

“Mr. Menville, the proprietor of the show.”

“Then you leave him here until Mr. Menville comes for him,” was the quick reply. “Mr. Officer, please see to it that the bear is not taken away. I think he might very easily be chained to that hitching-post by the curb.”

“Sure, an’ Oi dunno about this!” exclaimed the policeman, an old Irishman. “Ye had better let him take the baste away.”

“No, he’ll stay here until damages are settled,” said Andy. “They do not own the bear, and if they attempt to take him away arrest them both.”

Andy did not know if he was acting according to law or not, and, for that matter, neither did the policeman. But the auctioneer’s firm stand had the desired effect, for the two keepers presently weakened, and asked what it would cost to replace the window and the goods spoiled.

A glazier was called in, and while he was figuring Matt and Andy went over the stock. At the end of ten minutes it was found that sixteen dollars would cover all loss. With much grumbling the circus men paid the amount, and they were then permitted to lead the brown bear away.

“Quite a bit of excitement, I must say,” was Matt’s comment after it was all over. “I don’t want to go through any such scare again.”

“Nor I,” returned Andy. “But, see, there is quite a crowd gathered around yet. Let us make the most of the chance.”

“I am too unstrung to auction off any stuff,” admitted Matt. “That first scare was enough to take the heart right out of a fellow. You go ahead if you wish, and I’ll clean out the window and get things ready for that new frame and glass.”

So without further delay Andy began to address the people, and soon he had the store once more filled. He kept on auctioning stuff off until one o’clock in the afternoon, when the crowd thinned out, being composed principally of folks who had come into the city to visit the circus.

By that time Matt had set the carpenter and the glazier to work, and the new woodwork and the glass were in. All it needed was a couple of coats of paint, and the show window would be as good as new. The owner of the building, having heard of the affair, came around to view the situation, and expressed himself perfectly satisfied with what had been done.

“And I’m glad you made them pay up on the spot,” he said. “For if those circus people had been allowed to leave town I would never have gotten a cent.”

And to show his gratitude, he bought a razor and strop for himself, and a pair of scissors for his wife.

“There will not be much doing now until evening,” said Andy to Matt. “So we will have dinner and then one of us can deliver those articles that lady bought.”

“I’ll deliver the stuff, Andy. I fancy the walk will brace me up more than anything else would.”

“Well, go on then,” said Andy, and so, after he had had dinner, Matt set out with the bundle of goods under his arm.

The way to the lady’s house led past the circus, and with a natural curiosity to see what was going on, Matt pushed his way through the crowd to where a number of banners were stretched containing vivid pictures of the many wonderful sights which the ticket seller said could be seen within.

The boy was much interested in the slick way of speaking which the ticket seller had, and to “gain points,” as he called it, for the auction business, he remained almost an hour listening to all that was said.

He was about to leave the crowd when a well-dressed man who was standing beside him pushed him a bit to one side, and then stooped to pick something from the ground at Matt’s feet.

It was a large pocket-book, and apparently well filled.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE CONFIDENCE MAN

“By Jove! look at that!” cried the man, in a low tone, as he picked up the pocket-book and surveyed it. “That’s a find, isn’t it?”

“It is, indeed,” returned Matt. “How much is there in it?”

“Come with me and I’ll see,” said the man, and without waiting for Matt to offer a reply, he caught the boy by the arm, and forced him through the crowd to an open spot behind a large tree.

“I would like to know who lost this,” went on the man, as he opened the flap of the pocket-book, and gazed inside at the contents. “By Jove! look at that pile of bills!” he went on, as he turned the pocket-book around so that Matt might catch sight of what certainly did look like twenty-five or thirty bank bills tucked away in one of the pockets. “Must be a hundred dollars or more in it.”

“The owner of that pocket-book will miss it,” returned Matt. “You ought to make an effort to find him.”

“Of course! of course!” assented the man heartily. “I don’t want to keep anybody’s money – not if I know it is theirs. Let me see if there is a card in it.”

He turned the pocket-book around and put his fingers first in one pocket and then another.

“Not a blessed thing but that pile of bills,” he went on. “Now, isn’t that strange?”

Then he suddenly drew from his vest pocket a gold watch and looked at it.

“Quarter to three!” he exclaimed in a startled tone. “And I must catch the three o’clock train for Baltimore! I haven’t time to look up the owner of this pocket-book, valuable as it is.”

“You might take a later train,” suggested Matt.

The man shook his head.

“No, I have an engagement in Baltimore immediately upon the arrival of this train which I would not miss for a dozen such pocket-books.”

“Then you’ll have to take the money with you.”

“I wouldn’t feel just right about doing that,” returned the man with a bland smile. “I would feel like a thief. I’ll tell you what I will do,” he went on smoothly and earnestly. “Give me twenty dollars, and you take the pocket-book. Perhaps you won’t be able to find an owner, and then the money will all be yours, and if you do find an owner, he will certainly offer more of a reward than twenty dollars.”

“I take the pocket-book?” said Matt, considerably surprised by the offer.

“Yes; I really can’t wait, and I do not feel satisfied to take that money with me.”

“But, supposing I do not find the owner, do you not want part of the money?”

“No; you can keep it all.”

This certainly seemed a very liberal offer, and had Matt had less experience of the world at large, he might have accepted on the spot. But the apparent open-heartedness of the stranger only served to make him more cautious.

“Let us count the money and see how much there is in the pocket-book,” he remarked, hardly knowing what else to say.

“No, I haven’t time to do that,” said the stranger hastily. “As it is, I have now barely ten minutes in which to get to the depot. If you want to accept my offer, give me the twenty dollars, and I’ll run for the depot.”

And the man moved around as if in the greatest hurry of his life.

“I haven’t twenty dollars with me.”

“Indeed! I thought you looked like a well-to-do young man – ”

“I have twelve dollars – ”

“Well – let that do, but be quick!”

And the stranger held out his hand for the amount.

“Never mind,” remarked Matt, struck with an idea which he resolved to carry out if he went into the scheme at all. “I’ll take the money from the pocket-book, and if I find the owner I will tell him how I came to do it.”

“No; don’t you touch the contents of the pocket-book!” exclaimed the stranger, hastily snatching the article in question from Matt’s hand. “That would not be right!”

“Yes, but I will make it right with the owner, if I – ”

“I can’t wait any longer for that train!” cried the stranger, and without another word he placed the pocket-book into his coat-pocket and disappeared into the crowd.

For the instant Matt stared after him, and then a light burst upon the boy’s mind.

“He is a confidence man and was trying to swindle me!” he murmured to himself. “If that pocket-book contained much it was a single dollar bill on a pile of green paper! How lucky I was not to jump at his offer when he first made it!”

As soon as he had reached this conclusion, Matt made after the man. But the crowd was too thick and too large to find him, and after a quarter of an hour’s search the young auctioneer gave it up.

It was now getting late, and as soon as he was satisfied that the confidence man was gone, Matt hurried along on his errand.

He found that the lady who had purchased the goods had just reached home. She had heard of the brown bear episode, and insisted upon Matt giving her the particulars, which he did. She was very much interested in his story, and after she had heard how the affair terminated she plied him with questions concerning the auction business.

“You may think me very curious,” she said at length. “But the reason I ask is because my only son, Tom Inwold, ran away with a traveling auctioneer about three months ago.”

“Ran away?” repeated Matt.

“Yes; he got into a difficulty in school, and when I insisted that he apologize to his teachers, he grew angry and left the house.”

“How old was he?”

“Tom was fifteen last May.”

“He was very young to become an auctioneer,” smiled Matt. “I am hardly old enough for the business.”

“He has made a friend of this auctioneer – who used to stand up in a wagon and sing songs, and then sell cheap jewelry – and he went off with him one Saturday, when I thought he had gone to New York with his uncle.”