HARSH TREATMENT.
Both Matt and Andy were considerably taken aback by the unexpected
demand of the stranger. When they had come to Newark they had not
expected to sell anything, and therefore had not given the question of
a license a single thought.
"Excuse me, but I am sorry to state we have no license," returned Andy
frankly. "We did not expect to make any sales here, but were going
straight through to Elizabeth."
"Very likely," sneered the man, who was a special officer attached to
the police department. "But I saw you make the sale, and you must come
with me."
"Oh, Andy, let us pay the license," exclaimed Matt, in a low voice, as
visions of a week or a month in jail floated before his mind. It would
be simply terrible to be locked up.
"That's what we will have to do," returned Andy, who had been through
such a predicament before, and was not, therefore, greatly alarmed.
"Don't be afraid; we will come out all right. Only it will cost us two
or three dollars."
"I don't care if it costs fifty--I don't want to run afoul of the
law," returned Matt bluntly.
"Nor do I," returned his partner.
"Well, what do you say?" demanded the officer sharply.
"We will go with you and pay the license," replied Andy.
"All right."
"Will you ride with us?"
"Don't care if I do," said the officer, and all three hopped on the
wagon seat, and Matt drove off.
The office where licenses could be procured was at the City Hall, on
Broad Street. When they turned into that thoroughfare Matt uttered a
cry of surprise.
"What a broad street!" he exclaimed, as he surveyed it.
"It is one of the broadest in any eastern city," returned the officer,
who seemed inclined to be more friendly now that they had shown a
disposition to do the right thing.
Inside of the City Hall they were compelled to wait near half an hour
before they could procure their license. Then they were asked for how
long a term they desired it.
"For to-day only," returned Andy, and so it was made out and as
quickly paid for.
"Oh, but I'm glad we are out of that scrape so easily!" murmured Matt,
as the two walked back to their wagon. "I was afraid they would lock
us up for ten days or a month."
"They would have their hands full locking up all the peddlers who try
to sell goods without a license," laughed Andy. "All they care for is
the money."
"We will have to pay in almost every town we go, won't we?"
"Yes, every town. Some places charge so much that we won't try to sell
in them. I'll make it a point after this to find out about a license
as soon as we enter a place."
"Yes, do that by all means," returned Matt, much relieved.
Now that they had a license good for the balance of the day, Matt
moved that they remain in Newark and try to make more sales.
"Let us try all the restaurants," he said. "We may be able to sell
more of those knives and forks and spoons."
"I am willing," said Andy. "This isn't exactly auctioneering, but it
pays just as well, so we have no cause to grumble."
They turned back into the business portion of the city and drove along
slowly until two restaurants, directly opposite to each other, were
reached.
"I'll take one and you can take the other," said Andy. "Be sure and
sell all you can," he added, with a laugh.
Matt nodded, and with half a dozen samples under his arm, he entered
the restaurant on the right.
It must be confessed that the boy's heart beat rather fast. This was
the first time he had endeavored to effect a sale solely on his own
responsibility. Moreover, Andy was pitted against him, trying to sell
goods in a similar way to similar people.
"I must do as well as he," thought Matt. "If I don't he may imagine I
am not worthy of being an equal partner in the concern."
The place Matt had entered was handsomely fitted up in the latest
style. It was quite large, but at this hour of the day was but
scantily patronized. In the back half a dozen waiters were discussing
the merits of certain race horses, while behind the cashier's desk a
young man, with an enormous diamond, was reading a copy of a
sensational weekly.
A waiter rushed forward to conduct Matt to a seat at one of the
tables, but the boy shook his head and turned to the desk.
"Can I see the proprietor?" he asked.
The clerk had laid down his paper and gave Matt an ugly stare before
replying.
"So you are another one of them," he said slowly, as he surveyed the
boy from head to foot.
Matt was somewhat mystified by this, but smiled pleasantly.
"I suppose I am--if you say so," he said. "Did you say the proprietor
was in?"
"No, I didn't say so. Say, you'll wish you hadn't come here if old
Mattison gives you a chance," went on the young man, in a lower
voice.
"Why will I wish that?" questioned Matt, more mystified than ever.
"Because he's a tough customer to get along with."
"But if my goods and the price suit, why, it ought to be all right."
"Goods and price? What are you talking about?" demanded the young man
quickly.
"The goods I have to sell--knives, forks, and spoons."
"Oh, pshaw! I thought you were another of those chumps that want my
place here. Old Mattison gave me notice to quit next Saturday, and
put an advertisement in the paper for a new clerk, and there have been
about a dozen here already."
"And none of them suit?"
"Suit! He's a man that is never suited."
"Then perhaps I won't be able to sell him any goods," returned Matt,
his heart sinking.
"It ain't likely. Business is poor, and he ain't buying more than he
can help. You can try him, though."
"Where is he?"
"I'll call him."
The young man behind the desk rang the bell for one of the waiters,
and sent that individual upstairs for the proprietor. The waiter was
gone nearly five minutes before he returned, accompanied by a short,
stout man, with bushy black hair and a heavy beard.
"Well, sir, what can I do for you?" asked the man of Matt.
"If you are not too busy I would like to show you some goods which are
both good and very cheap," returned Matt, as easily as he could, and
without waiting for a reply he unrolled his package of samples, and
placed them upon the desk.
"And is that what you called me downstairs for?" cried the proprietor
of the restaurant, in a rage. "Make me throw down a good hand at cards
just to look at a lot of tin knives and forks! You peddlers are
getting more bold every day. The police ought to sit down on every one
of you!"
"I am sorry if I disturbed your leisure," returned Matt, as mildly as
he could. "But, I thought----"
"You thought you would just like to cheat me into buying a lot of your
trash," finished the restaurant proprietor. "Well, you can't do
anything of the kind, and you can take that for your impudence!"
And hastily gathering up the package of samples, the restaurant keeper
walked to the open doorway and flung knives, forks and spoons into the
muddy gutter!