# The Young Auctioneers/Chapter 13

CHAPTER XIII.
THE CORN SALVE DOCTOR.
After supper the two partners found that time hung a little heavily upon their hands. Matt suggested that they walk around the city a bit, taking in the sights, but Andy was too tired.
"I'll tell you what I will do, though," said the older member of the firm. "I'll get one of the accordions out and you can get a banjo, and we can practice a little. There is nothing like being prepared for an emergency, you know."
"That is true, and we'll have to brush up quite a bit if we wish to play in public," laughed Matt.
He accompanied Andy to the barn where the wagon was stored, and they brought not only the accordion and the banjo, but also a violin and a mouth harmonica.
These instruments they took to the bedroom which had been assigned to them, and here, while it was yet early, they tuned up and began to practice upon such simple tunes as both knew by heart. ​Matt first tried the banjo, and after he had it in tune with the accordion, the partners played half a dozen selections quite creditably.
"We wouldn't do for grand opera soloists, but I guess it will be good enough to attract crowds in small country towns," laughed Andy, as he ground out a lively German waltz.
"Supposing we try the violin and banjo," suggested Matt, and Andy took up the king of instruments.
But this did not go so well, and it was not long before Andy turned back to the accordion, which, according to his statement, half-played itself. Matt tried the mouth harmonica, and surprised not only Andy, but half a dozen listeners, by the wonderful effects he produced upon the little instrument.
"Good for you!" shouted Andy, as Matt finished a particularly clever selection. "If the auction business fails, you can go on the variety stage."
"No, thank you," returned Matt. "I understand enough about it to know that it is little better than a dog's life. I just as lief stick to what I'm doing, or become a traveling order salesman for some big New York house."
"Well, I don't know but what that shows your level-headedness," returned Andy.
The two slept soundly that night. Matt was up ​at five o'clock the next morning, and he at once aroused his partner. They had an early breakfast, and then walked around to the stable where the wagon was housed.
While they were hitching up Billy a middle-aged man, rather slouchy in appearance, came shuffling in.
"Are you the two young fellers what's running this here auction wagon?" he began, addressing Matt.
"We are," returned the boy. "What do you want?"
"Pretty good business, ain't it?" went on the stranger, without answering the question which had been put.
"Sometimes it is."
"I reckon there's a heap of money in it," proceeded the shabby stranger.
"Well, we are not yet millionaires," put in Andy, with a pleasant laugh.
"I know a feller what made a pile of money in the auction business," remarked the man as he ejected a quantity of tobacco juice from his mouth. "He was a rip-snorter at it, though—could talk a table into walking off—and keep it up all day and half the night."
To this statement Matt and Andy made no reply. ​Neither liked the looks of the newcomer, and both wished he would go away.
"Say, you don't want to take a fellow in, you?" asked the man, after a slight pause, as he came close beside Matt, who was nearest to him.
"No, we haven't any work for an outsider" returned the boy.
"I'm a rustler when I get a-going, let me tell you. I can tell stories and sing and sell more goods than any one has any idea of. Besides that, I've got a new corn salve I put up myself which goes like hot cakes. Barberry's Lightning Salve, I call it—my name is Paul Barberry, you know—Dr. Barberry, most of 'em call me. Say the word, and I'll go with you and put up my salve against your outfit, and we'll share and share alike."
"As I said before, we have no room for an outsider," returned Matt, while Andy nodded approvingly. "The wagon seat only holds two, and besides, our plans are all completed for our trip."
"Humph!" The man's face took on a sour look. "You are missing the chance of your lives."
"We'll risk it," laughed Andy.
"I can sell more salve than you can sell other goods every day in the week—and make more money, too."
​"Then you had better start alone—and at once," returned Andy shortly.
"I will—if you fellers won't take me in as a working partner. I made the suggestion only because I thought it would be more pleasant to travel in a company of three."
"We are satisfied to go it without outside assistance," cried Matt, as he hopped on the seat. "All ready, Andy?"
"Yes, go on," returned his partner, climbing up beside him.
"Then you won't make a deal with me?" questioned Paul Barberry more sourly than ever.
"No," replied Matt and Andy in a breath, and while one gathered up the lines the other spoke to the horse, and the turnout began to leave the stable.
"All right," shouted Paul Barberry. "You may be sorry for it. You young fellows think you know it all, but you may get tripped up badly before long," and picking up an ancient and decidedly rusty traveling-bag which he possessed, the corn salve doctor trudged away up the street.
"What a forward man!" exclaimed Matt, as they moved off. "Why, he actually wanted to force himself on us!"
"There are a good many such fellows on the ​road," returned Andy. "The moment they see some one who appears to be prospering, they try their best to get in with him. I dare say that Dr. Paul Barberry is about broke, and would consider it a windfall of fortune to be taken in by the owners and managers of the Eureka Auction Co."
"I wonder if we'll meet him again," mused Matt, as he looked back just in time to see the shabby figure disappear around a corner.
"Oh, he may turn up again; such fellows very often do," replied Andy.
But neither he nor Matt dreamed of the peculiar circumstances under which they would again come in contact with Paul Barberry.
The day was warm and bright, and Billy, the horse, appeared in excellent spirits by the way he trotted along over the macadamized road from Newark to Elizabeth.
It was not their intention to stop at the latter place, but just as they reached the outskirts of the city Billy began to limp, and they saw that one of his shoes had become loose.
"We'll have to take him around to a blacksmith shop," said Andy, and they accordingly drove on until such a place was reached.
Here they found they would have to wait until ​dinner-time before the shoe could be refitted. Rather than go to the trouble and expense of getting a license, however, they decided to spend the time in walking around.
"This is one of the oldest towns in New Jersey," remarked Andy, as they walked around the depots and down Broad Street, the main thoroughfare. "Down along the water front is one of the largest sewing machine factories in the world I was through it once and I can tell you it was a sight well worth seeing."
Just before twelve o'clock they stopped in a restaurant not far from the blacksmith shop, and had dinner. By the time this was over Billy's shoe had been readjusted, and once more they were off.
It was easy driving along the smooth country road, and after passing through Cranford, Westfield and several smaller places, they struck out for Plainfield, which Andy declared was to be their first regular stopping place.
"It is a fair-sized city," he said. "And if we can strike the right stand we ought to do well there for several days or a week."
"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 Addy. "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.