CHAPTER XXII.

THE SHANTY IN THE WOODS.

The reader may rest assured that Matt listened with deep interest to

the words of the constable. He knew nothing of the man that had been

mentioned as the probable thief, but he was willing to believe

Jackson's supposition true.

"That Joe Yedley's cap?" returned Isaac Marvelling slowly.

"Certainly. You ought to know it well enough. He has worn nothing else

for years."

"Humph! how did it get here?"

"The man must have dropped it in his haste to get away when I came

here," said Matt. "He left in a big hurry."

"That's most likely it," said the constable. "To tell the truth, it

looks just like a piece of Yedley's work," he added slowly. "He did it

in order to get square, as much as anything, I reckon. He always

resented being called a beggar."

"Humph!" muttered Isaac Marvelling, not particularly pleased over the

turn affairs seemed to be taking. "He may be guilty and he may not be.

I rather think you had better hold this young fellow for awhile yet."

"Just as you say."

"You may hold me if you wish," put in the young auctioneer. "But if

you want to get all of your stuff back you had better follow up this

Yedley."

"I'll do that," returned the constable. "I have an idea I can find out

where he has gone to. He has several old hang-outs here, and most

likely he'll be at one or another of them."

"Are any of the places close at hand?"

"He used to put up at a shanty back here in the woods," was the slow

reply. "It is possible he has struck for that place--or else for Bill

Voegler's barn."

"Supposing we three make for the shanty without delay?"

The matter was talked over, and finally Isaac Marvelling, urged on

solely by the desire to recover his goods and not to clear Matt,

consented to accompany the others to the place the constable had

named.

It was a dark and lonely road the trio had to travel. But Jackson knew

the way well, and to avoid suspicion, put out the light. He cautioned

them not to make any noise, and so, as silently as Indians, they filed

along, Jackson first and Marvelling last, with the young auctioneer

between them.

Ten minutes' walking brought them to the edge of a bit of woodland,

surrounded on three sides by corn-fields. Here Jackson called a halt.

"The shanty is not two hundred feet from here. Keep quiet while I go

on and investigate," he whispered.

The constable glided out of sight, and five minutes of silent suspense

followed.

"It ain't likely he'll find anything," grumbled Isaac Marvelling.

"This ain't anything but a wild goose chase."

"Wait," returned Matt. "He must go slow, or he may----"

The young auctioneer broke off short, for at that instant several loud

exclamations reached their ears.

"Surrender, Yedley!" they heard Jackson cry. "Surrender, in the name

of the law!"

"Who told ye to come here?" yelled the voice of an old man. "Git out

an' leave me alone."

"I arrest you, Yedley, for stealing-- Hullo! he's gone! Stop him! stop

him!"

There was the banging of a shanty door, and then a crashing in the

bushes. Footsteps came close to where Matt and Marvelling stood.

"He's coming this way!" cried the young auctioneer. "Let us stop

him!"

"You stop him!" stammered the store-keeper. "He is--is a very ugly man

to deal with."

And as the old fellow in question appeared in sight, the store-keeper

dropped down behind the rail fence, leaving Matt to face Joe Yedley

alone.

This the young auctioneer did without hesitation.

"Stop where you are!" he cried out, and as Yedley attempted to leap

the fence, he caught the fellow by the leg and dragged him to the

ground.

"Let go of me!" howled the man savagely. "Let go, boy, or it will be

the worse for you!"

"Don't you attempt to rise, or I'll knock you down," was Matt's

undaunted reply. "Just you remain where you are until Mr. Jackson gets

back."

But Yedley would not remain still, and as a consequence, a fierce

struggle ensued. Matt called to Isaac Marvelling to come to his

assistance, but the store-keeper was too afraid to do so, and only

screamed for Jackson to come and secure the thief.

Yedley, although well along in years, was very strong and active, and

Matt gradually found himself being overpowered. But he held on until

Jackson arrived, and then the man was quickly subdued by the sight of

the constable's pistol.

"Now, Yedley, you had better tell us what you have done with the

stolen goods," said Jackson, after he and the others had somewhat

regained their breath.

"Yes! yes! hand over my goods!" put in Isaac Marvelling eagerly.

"Ain't got no goods--didn't steal nuthin'!" growled the old man.

"We know better," said Jackson. "We'll search the shanty."

This was done, and in one corner, under some loose flooring, was found

a large bundle done up in several newspapers. When this was opened

there came to light many knives, forks and spoons, as well as a

quantity of cheap jewelry, such as watch chains, rings and trinkets.

The entire collection was not worth over fifteen dollars, although

Isaac Marvelling stuck to it that the articles had cost him forty-five

dollars cash.

After the store-keeper had made certain that all of his goods, with

the exception of several cheap spoons, which must have slipped out of

the bundle on the way, were safe, all hands made their way back to the

village. Yedley begged to be allowed to go, but the constable was

firm, and the man was eventually locked up, and later on sent to jail

for one year.

Isaac Marvelling was too mean a man to recognize the service Matt had

done him, or to apologize for the false charges he had made against

the young auctioneer. As soon as he could he got out of Matt's way,

and that was about the last the boy saw of him.

But Jackson, the constable, did not hesitate to tell the whole story,

and, as a consequence, the people of the village thought less of the

mean store-keeper than ever. His trade dropped down daily, until he

was at last forced to give up his store and go back to the farm from

which he had originally come.

On the following morning Matt and his partner set off bright and early

for Phillipsburg. Andy had heard the particulars of Matt's adventures,

and he sincerely trusted that neither would have anything further to

do with thieves, little dreaming of what fate had in store for them in

the near future.

They had done very well in High Bridge, and so took their time to

reach the pretty manufacturing town which lies on the east bank of the

Delaware. The road was a good one, and on the way they stopped at a

farmhouse, where Andy treated the firm, as he termed it, to apple pie

and fresh milk. He was going to pay for these articles in cash, but

the farmer's wife wished a hat-pin, and gladly took one out of their

stock instead.

When they arrived in Phillipsburg they found that their new goods from

New York had not yet arrived, but were told that the cases would

probably come in on the afternoon freight. After this they started to

find a vacant store. Strange to say, there was none to be had which

would suit their purpose. There were several large places vacant, but

all of them were on side streets, and these they declined to hire.

"We'll have to sell direct from the wagon," said Andy. "Perhaps we'll

do just as well."

They found a good corner, and after paying a license fee and getting a

square meal, opened up for business. Hardly anything was done during

the afternoon, but toward evening trade picked up, and when they

finally dismissed the crowd they found they had taken in seventeen

dollars.

"And that's pretty good, considering that we are out of many of our

best sellers," was Andy's comment. "We must go around to the freight

house the first thing in the morning and stock up again."

"I see by the posters that there is to be a big firemen's parade in

Easton day after to-morrow," said Matt. "Would it not be a good idea

to locate there just before it comes off?"

"Excellent. Day after to-morrow, you say?"

"Yes; the posters are everywhere."

"Then instead of remaining here we had better cross the river as soon

as we have our cases of goods. If we can only get a store in a good

location we may do better than we did on circus day in those other

places."

"That's true, Andy, for I saw by the bills that the railroads are

going to run special excursions on account of the big parade, so there

will be many strangers with money in the city."

As soon as the freight depot was open the next morning the two drove

to the place, and Andy entered the office and called for the cases,

three in number.

"What's the name?" asked the agent in charge.

Andy told him, and an examination of all the freight which had come in

was made, and then the two made the dismaying discovery that no goods

for them had arrived.

Young Auctioneers; Or, The Polishing of a Rolling Stone · 第 22 / 40 章