A BAFFLED SWINDLER.
"Those cattle-dealers are good men to let alone," continued Mr. Morgan.
"They want money, and they are not very particular where or how they get
it, so long as they _get_ it. They make it a business to do all they can
to prevent every traveller from getting beyond the limits of the colony.
They will sell you a span of broken-down oxen and a rickety old wagon,
charging exorbitant prices for the same, and provide you with servants
who are too lazy to earn the salt they eat on their meat. These men are
in the pay of the cattle-dealers, and are expected to do everything in
their power to discourage you. If they find that you are resolved to go
on, they will pound your cattle until they get rusty and refuse to draw
the wagon. They will drive you into an ant-bear's hole, and break an
axle or smash a wheel by running over a rock they might easily have
avoided. The town hill, on the other side of Maritzburg, has proved to
be an insurmountable barrier to many a would-be sportsman. Just about
the time he reached the steepest ascent smash would go the trek-tow, and
an examination would reveal the fact that one of the links had been cut
half in two. As you are an American, they will be particularly hard on
you; and I warn you that eternal vigilance is the price you must pay for
your success."
"Captain Sterling told me that," said Oscar. "He also informed me that
the object of these swindlers is to disgust the traveller, so that he
will sell off his supplies and outfit at a sacrifice."
"That's just it," replied the editor. "Even the men of whom you purchase
your oxen, wagon, and goods will set to work to defeat you in order that
they may buy the things back for less than they sold them for. My advice
to you is to buy your oxen and supplies in Maritzburg. They are much
cheaper there than they are here, and by doing that you will save
hauling over a road which just now is in a pretty bad condition, owing
to the recent heavy rains. I will give you letters to my friends Donahue
and McElroy, who, at my request, will aid you in every way they can and
see that you are not imposed upon."
Oscar thanked the editor, and remarked that friends in England had given
him letters to these same gentlemen.
"That's all right; but a little additional note from me will not hurt
anything," said Mr. Morgan. "You had better buy a wagon here. I know
where you can get an excellent one for a hundred and ten pounds, and
that includes dissel-boom, trek-tow, yokes, water-butts, fore- and
after-chests, and canvas tent."
"That is about seventy-five dollars less than Barlow wants for his
wagon," observed Oscar.
"And it is a better one, too," said Mr. Morgan, after he had made a
mental calculation to find out how many pounds there were in
seventy-five dollars. "I have seen that wagon of his, and I will wager
fifty pounds against a shilling that you would never get over
Maritzburg Hill with it, to say nothing of the Drackenburg, which is as
much worse than any hill you ever saw as you can imagine."
"What are oxen worth in Maritzburg?"
"About ten pounds."
"Then Barlow wants to cheat me out of about $375 and intends to furnish
me with a poor outfit into the bargain," said Oscar. "That money might
as well stay in my pocket as to go into his."
"Better--much better!" the editor hastened to reply. "Now, if you will
excuse me for a while, I will get through with my morning's work, and
then we will go and see that wagon. Come in again in an hour, and you
will find me quite at your service."
Oscar left the editorial sanctum and went out on the street. He easily
found his way back to the hotel, and there he saw Colonel Dunhaven and
his servant, surrounded by the same cattle-dealers he had seen in their
company the day before.
The swindlers were determined that their prey should not escape them. As
he ascended the steps the Englishman and his servant went into the
parlor.
"Hello, there!" cried a voice. "Are you ready to keep your promise now?"
Oscar looked up and saw Barlow approaching.
"I have been looking for you all the morning," he said. "Where have you
been?"
Oscar was not aware that that was any of Barlow's business, so he made
no reply.
"Are you ready to keep your promise now?" repeated the cattle-dealer.
"What promise?"
"Why, to come over and buy that outfit I am going to sell you. It's all
here, but the supplies we'll have to get up at Maritzburg."
"I didn't promise to buy any outfit of you," said Oscar.
"You didn't?" cried the cattle-dealer. "Did I not say to you, the last
thing before I left you yesterday, 'Remember that that is a promise
between gentlemen, and that I am to have the first chance'?"
"You did. And what did I say?"
"You said you would take it."
"You are mistaken. You asked me to think it over, and I told you I
would do so."
"What conclusion have you come to?"
"That I don't want any of your things. I can do better."
"Hello! Here's a go. Come, now, that won't go down. It might with some
folks, but not with me," said Barlow in a threatening tone. "I have
bought six salted horses for you--they cost me a hundred and ten pounds
apiece, but I told you that you could have them for a hundred, and _I_
am a man of my word--and hired nine servants for you. I have also
engaged that friend of mine of whom I told you, and he is all ready to
inspan, and go down to Port Natal after your guns and other truck, just
as soon as you give me the stumpy down. Cash in hand was the agreement,
you know. Here's the bill, itemized and receipted--all regular," added
the cattle-dealer as he drew a folded paper from his pocket, and made an
effort to put it into the boy's hand.
"I don't want to see it," said Oscar, who was fairly staggered by the
man's effrontery. "You must think I have taken leave of my senses. Do
you suppose that I would purchase an expensive outfit without seeing
it?"
"I told you it was the best in the colony, and you took my word for it
and agreed to buy it."
"I did nothing of the kind! I tell you now that I will not take it!"
"Here _is_ a go, sure enough!" exclaimed Barlow. "What shall I do with
these six salted horses?"
"I don't care what you do with them."
"And what shall I say to my friend and to the servants I engaged for
you?"
"That is a matter in which I am not interested. If you engaged them at
all you did so without any authority from me."
"Come, now," said the cattle-dealer, slapping the folded paper into his
open palm, "take the outfit, and I'll knock off half the hundred pounds
I have charged you for my services and call it fifty. Can anything be
fairer than that? Come, now."
"A hundred pounds!" cried Oscar. "Do you pretend to say that you've done
nearly five hundred dollars' worth of work since yesterday afternoon?"
"I don't know anything about your dollars; but I told you I would fit
you out, fair and square, without any trouble to yourself, and I have
kept my word, as I always do. Of course I expect to be paid for doing
it, and a hundred pounds is the regular price."
"You'll not get it out of me."
"Well, then, I'll have you up before the justice for breach of
contract!" exclaimed Barlow fiercely.
"Do so, and we will see how much you will make out of it. Be good enough
to let me pass."
He brushed by the cattle-dealer as he spoke, and once more started
toward Mr. Morgan's office, but before he had made many steps Barlow
overtook him and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Look here, my fine Yankee lad," said he between his clenched teeth,
"you had best make a friend of me. I have known more than one traveller
to break down before he got over the town hill."
"I know what you mean by that," replied Oscar; "but you had better be
careful how you try any tricks on me. If you think you can bluff me into
buying a wagon that is ready to fall to pieces, and a team of worthless
oxen, you have reckoned without your host. You picked me up for a
greenhorn, but I know more than you think I do. Now from this time
forward I want you to keep away from me. I shall have nothing more to do
with you."
So saying, Oscar walked on again, leaving the baffled swindler alone
with his disappointment.
The latter followed him with his eye and looked down at the bill he held
in his hand.
"You won't have anything more to do with me, won't you?" said he between
his clenched teeth. "Well, then, I shall have something to do with you.
You haven't got out of the colony yet, and never will."
If Oscar could have seen the expression Barlow's face wore as he thrust
the bill into his pocket and hurried down the street he would have
needed no other evidence to satisfy him that Mr. Morgan knew what he was
talking about when he said that eternal vigilance was the price the
young hunter must pay to make his expedition successful.