CHAPTER XII.

MATT STANDS UP FOR HIMSELF.

It was evident, by the self-satisfied look upon the restaurant-keeper's

face, that the hot-tempered man supposed that he had done a very

smart thing in thus disposing of Matt's wares by throwing the bundle

into the muddy gutter of the street.

"Now pick up your goods and skip out!" he cried, as he turned to the

boy. "And the next time you be careful how you disturb folks when they

are trying to take it a little easy!"

For the instant Matt was stupefied, and stood still, hardly moving a

muscle.

Then the boy's natural temper arose to the surface, and for the moment

he felt as if he must fly at the man and pound him in the face just as

hard as he could. His face grew first red and then deadly pale. The

man saw the change in his countenance, saw the fire flash in the boy's

eyes, and stopped short just as he was about to repeat his injunction

to leave the establishment.

"You are a--a brute!" exclaimed Matt, stepping forward with clinched

fists.

"What's that?" cried the restaurant-keeper, so loudly that several

customers and a number of the waiters gathered round to learn the

cause of the trouble.

"I say you are a brute!" repeated Matt, undaunted by the fierce look

the restaurant-keeper had assumed. "If you did not wish to buy from me

you could have said so. There was no need for you to throw my goods in

the gutter."

"Shut up and clear out!" growled the man. "I want no back talk from

the likes of you. Do you suppose I buy from beggars and thieves?"

"I am neither a beggar nor a thief!" returned Matt striding still

closer. "And I won't allow you nor any one else to say so."

"Oh, you won't?" sneered the man.

"No, I won't," answered Matt firmly. "My business is just as honest

and honorable as yours, even though I may not make such enormous

profits," he added, bound in some way to "get square."

"See here, are you going to get out, or must I pitch you out?" howled

the man more savagely than ever.

For the moment Matt did not reply. He was very angry, but knew it

would do him more harm than good to lose his temper. Yet he was not

the person to allow the insults he had received to pass unnoticed.

"I will get out just as soon as you restore my goods to me," he said.

"You had no right whatever to throw them into the gutter and soil

them."

"What?"

"And let me say, too, that I expect my goods to come back to me just

as clean as they were when you took them."

"You say another word and I'll stand you on your head!" fumed the

proprietor of the restaurant, but the look in Matt's eyes kept him

from laying hands upon the boy.

"If you dare to touch me I'll call in the police," replied Matt, more

sharply than ever. "I have a license, and by that license the police

are bound to protect me. Now, you get my goods back for me and I'll

leave."

"I'll see you in Jericho first!"

"Very well; but remember, if anything is lost or damaged, you'll pay

the bill."

"Good for the boy!" exclaimed one of the men who had just been

lunching in the place. "I like to see a fellow stick up for his

rights."

"See here, I want no outside interference here!" blustered the

restaurant-keeper. "I am fully capable of attending to this affair

myself."

"Well, I'm going to see that the boy gets a show," returned the other

coolly, as he paid the amount of his check and lit a cigar taken from

his pocket. "I don't think it was a fair deal to throw his stuff in

the gutter."

"It wasn't," put in another customer. "He's got to make a living, just

the same as all of us."

"Oh, don't talk!" cried the restaurant-keeper, waving them away with

his hand. "Come, now, no more talk!" he went on to Matt. "Go, before I

have you thrown out."

"I won't budge a step, excepting it is to call the police," returned

Matt, more firmly than ever, now that he saw he had friends in the

crowd. "I'll give you just five minutes to give me back my goods."

The restaurant-keeper began to bluster and threaten, and even sent a

waiter out, ostensibly to call in a policeman. But Matt was not

frightened, and in the end another waiter was sent to gather up the

sample goods, wipe them off and restore them to the boy.

"Good for you, boy!" said one of the customers, as he followed Matt

out upon the sidewalk. "Always stick up for your rights," and he

nodded pleasantly and passed on.

When Matt reached the wagon he found Andy had not yet come back. He

accordingly looked around, and seeing another restaurant about half a

block further down the street entered it.

He found the proprietor behind the desk, laughing quietly to himself.

He had heard of what had happened in his neighbor's place, and was

immensely tickled thereby.

"Hullo! ain't you the boy that had the row with Mattison?" he

exclaimed in surprise.

"I had some trouble with that man," said Matt. "But it was not my

fault, I can assure you."

"You came out ahead, didn't you? Ha! ha! ha! It does me good to hear

it. Tell me how the row started."

Matt did so, and was compelled to go into all the details, to which

the man listened with keen interest.

"Served him right! He can get along with nobody. But you are a clever

one, too."

"Thank you," replied Matt.

And then he began to talk business, showing up his somewhat bedimmed

samples to the best possible advantage, and quoting prices in a manner

that made the restaurant-keeper think he was an old hand at the

business.

The man was not particularly in need of anything, but he liked Matt's

way, and thought it was worth something to have a good story to tell

to his rival's discredit. He bought four dozen triple-plated spoons

and a carving-knife, and then Matt persuaded him to invest in a new

toothpick holder, and a match holder of aluminum, which were both very

pretty and cheap.

"Just an even seven dollars!" thought Matt, as he hurried back to the

wagon. "I don't think that so bad. Our profits on that sale ought to

be at least two dollars."

Andy was waiting for him. He had sold, after a good deal of hard

talking, a dozen knives and forks, upon which he had been forced to

make a slight discount. He listened to Matt's story in amazement.

"Seven dollars' worth! That's fine, Matt! You must be a born salesman.

Keep right on, by all means."

"But I don't expect any such luck every time," returned the boy, and

then he told the story of his troubles in the first restaurant he had

visited.

"It was plucky in you to stick out as you did," was Andy's comment. "I

don't believe I could have done it. I would have gone out and picked

up the things myself."

"I wouldn't, never!" cried Matt, and his whole face showed the spirit

within him.

It was only four o'clock in the afternoon, and Andy suggested that

they continue to try their luck until sundown. So they drove on down

the street slowly, visiting every restaurant and many stores on the

way.

In one place Matt sold a dozen spoons, and in another a fancy

water-pitcher. Andy sold some spoons also, and a cheap watch and

chain, which the buyer explained he intended to sell to some customer

for double the money.

At the last place at which they stopped Andy made arrangements to

remain all night. A stable was also found for Billy and the wagon, and

by eight o'clock the partners found themselves free from business

cares. Matt moved that they have supper, and to this Andy willingly

agreed.

While the two were waiting for their orders to be filled, Andy brought

out a bit of paper and a pencil and began to figure.

"The net receipts for the day were eighteen dollars and a half," he

said, when he had finished. "The goods and the license cost thirteen

dollars and sixty cents. That leaves a profit of four dollars and

ninety cents, which is not so bad, considering that we only worked

about five hours all told."

"And what were our expenses?" asked Matt.

Andy did a little more figuring.

"Expenses from this morning until to-morrow morning, including this

supper, about two dollars and thirty cents."

"Then we have two dollars and sixty cents over all?"

"Yes, that is, without counting wear and tear on wagon, harness, and

so forth."

"Of course. But that isn't so bad."

"Indeed it is not," returned Andy. "If we do as well as that every day

we shall get along very well, although I trust to do even better."

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