Young Auctioneers Part 33

"Those fellows must be the thieves," whispered Andy, as he pointed to the pair beneath the tree.

"I believe you are right," returned Matt. "If so, we have made a big mistake. Neither of them is Paul Barberry, and I was almost certain he was the thief."

"So was I, Matt. But never mind that now. What worries me is the fact that there are two of them."

"Yes, and they both look like strong fellows," returned the young auctioneer, as he surveyed the pair. "If they get ugly when we claim the turn-out we may have a lively time with them."

"Well, we are in the right, and we must stick up for our own."

"Of course we'll do that," cried Matt determinedly. "But I say, wouldn't it be best if we each got a stout stick? They may show fight if they fancy we are beyond outside aid."

"Perhaps we can bluff them into believing that we have the village authorities at our back," suggested Andy. "I would rather frighten them off than run the risk of coming off second best in a set-to with them."

"Hi! what are you fellows doing here?" suddenly demanded a voice just behind Andy. "Do you belong--what, you?"

And the speaker, none other than Paul Barberry, stepped back in amazement.

"What's the trouble there, Barberry?" cried one of the men by the fire, and both sprang up in alarm.

"Why, here are the--the--a couple of young fellows," stammered the corn salve doctor. He was so surprised he could hardly speak. "How did you get here?" he asked slowly.

"Never mind that," returned Matt. "I imagine you know what we are here for."

"No, I don't."

"Really!" returned Andy sarcastically. "Well, then, let me tell you that we came for our horse and wagon and stock."

"I haven't anything of yours," returned Paul Barberry, gradually recovering from his surprise. In making a circle around the improvised camp he had stumbled upon them quite unexpectedly. "You talk as if I was a thief."

"Didn't you run off with that horse and wagon?" demanded Matt.

"Run off with it? No, why should I? The outfit belongs to me. Isn't that so, boys?" and the corn salve doctor turned to his burly companions.

"Why, of course it does!" returned the men.

A thunderbolt from the sky at that moment would not have taken Andy and Matt more by surprise than did this statement. Paul Barberry's a.s.surance actually staggered them, and neither could speak for the moment.

"That outfit belongs to you?" cried Matt at length.

"Of course."

"That's the biggest falsehood I ever heard in my life!" burst out Andy. "You know very well that everything there belongs to us."

"I know no such thing," returned Barberry coldly. "I bought the outfit from you, and you know it. These gentlemen know it also."

And he waved his hand toward his companions.

"Certainly, we know all about it," said one of the men.

"Yes, we saw the money paid over," added the second fellow.

Matt and Andy looked at each other. Each knew very well that the other had never made any bargain for the sale of the turn-out and stock.

The whole scheme was one of the corn doctor to get possession of their belongings.

"See here, Barberry, there is no use for you to talk in this fas.h.i.+on,"

went on Matt, as calmly as he could, although he was worked up to the top notch of excitement. "You know very well that you are a.s.serting that which is not true. The outfit belongs to us, and you haven't the shadow of an interest in it. You stole it from the Phillipsburg freight depot, and----"

"Stop that!" bl.u.s.tered the corn salve doctor. "How dare you call me a thief, boy?"

"That is what you are, and nothing less. If you----"

"Do you hear that, fellows?" interrupted Barberry, turning to the two men.

"You want to keep a civil tongue in your head, boy!" cried one of the men sharply. "Calling a man a thief is a serious business."

"And being a thief is still more serious," replied Andy. "Perhaps you fancy you can bluff us, as the saying is, but you are mistaken. This turn-out is ours, and we are here to claim it. If you molest us in the least we will hand you all over to the police."

"We can stand up for ourselves," returned the man with a deep scowl.

"We are three to two, and we are armed."

"So you would use force to retain our property, eh?" said Andy.

"We do not admit that it is your property."

"But it is. Now let me tell you something. We stopped at the village just north of here, and got the a.s.sistance of nearly a dozen men. They are scattered about, and should you attempt to molest us I shall give them a signal----"

"Not much you won't!" cried the man addressed, and springing forward, he clapped his hand over Andy's mouth. "Tend to the other one, fellows, I can manage this one!"

"All right," returned his companion, and he, as well as Paul Barberry, fell upon Matt.

The attack had been so sudden that Andy and Matt were hardly prepared to defend themselves. The former was forced over on his back, and despite his utmost exertions, was unable to remove his a.s.sailant's hand from his mouth.

Matt was thrown over on his side, and while Paul Barberry held one of his arms, the other man tried to force him into silence.

"Make a single sound and I'll kick you in the face," he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed in a low, but intense tone.

"Help! help!" cried Matt, ignoring the threat entirely, and he continued to call out so long as his breath lasted.

The burly ruffian tried to kick him as he had promised, but with his disengaged hand Matt caught his foot, and after dancing about to regain his balance, the man came down heavily across the young auctioneer's legs.

The force of the fall was so great that Matt cried out shrilly with pain. For the moment he imagined that both of his limbs must be broken.

"Clap your hand over his mouth, Barberry!" cried the burly man, as he struggled to regain his feet. "Confound you, boy, I'll teach you to throw me!"

He sprang at Matt, but not before the young auctioneer had had a chance to turn over and spring up. Matt realized what was at stake, and knew he must fight his best or the worst would happen.

Before the man could touch him Matt placed Barberry between them. Then he gave the corn doctor a push that sent him staggering up against his companion.

In the meantime, poor Andy was still flat on his back, unable to speak or to move. His a.s.sailant was on top of him, and there did not appear to be any immediate relief in sight.