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After closing up the sale that night, the wagon was once more packed, so that they might be on the way at an early hour. The stock on hand was growing lighter, and they were glad to know that more goods would await them upon their arrival.
"We are doing famously," remarked Andy. "If we keep on we shall soon be rich."
"I want to pay back Miss Bartlett what she loaned me as soon as I can."
"I reckon she is in no hurry. You had better keep some cash on hand in case of an emergency."
The work of selling goods and packing the wagon had tired Matt considerably, but his mind was too much aroused to go to sleep at once, and so he started out for a short walk before retiring.
He knew very little of the roads around the village, but he was confident that he would not get lost, especially as it was a bright starlight night.
He pa.s.sed the shop where the sales had been conducted, and then branched off on a road that but a short distance away crossed a tiny brook.
At the brook he paused, and then, struck with a sudden fancy, he left the bridge to go down and bathe his hands and face in the cool, running water.
He had hardly leaped from the bridge to the rocks below when a sudden noise beside him caused him to start back. Almost at the same time a dark form pa.s.sed under the bridge and was lost to view in the bushes beyond. It looked somewhat like the form of a man, but Matt was not sure.
"That was queer," thought the young auctioneer, as he paused, in perplexity. "Was that a man, or only some animal?"
Disturbed at the occurrence, Matt leaped up upon the bridge again, without having touched the water. He had hardly come up into the starlight when two men came rushing toward him from the road.
"Who's that?" cried one of the men.
"That must be the man!" cried the other, and Matt recognized Isaac Marvelling's voice. "Catch hold of him, Jackson."
In another moment the two men stood beside Matt. As he recognized the young auctioneer, Isaac Marvelling set up a cry of surprise and triumph.
"I told you so!" he declared. "I said them auction fellows weren't no better than thieves! This is the chap that broke in my store, Jackson, I feel sure of it! I want him arrested, and you had better handcuff him so that he can't get away from you! No wonder they can sell cheap, when they steal their goods!"
CHAPTER XXI.
THE TELL-TALE CAP.
For the moment Matt could do little more than stare at the two men that confronted him. In a dim way he realized that Isaac Marvelling's store had been entered and robbed, and that the mean-minded store-keeper fully believed that he was the guilty party.
"Are you a-holding him, Jackson?" went on Isaac Marvelling anxiously.
"Look out, or he may slip away from you."
"I've got him, right enough," returned Jackson, one of the local constables. "He'll have hard work to get away."
"What does this mean?" demanded the young auctioneer, aroused at last to the necessity of doing something in his own behalf. "Let go of me!"
"Oh, no, not just yet!" returned Jackson. "You're wanted, and you know it."
"That's right, Jackson, don't let him slip you!" put in Marvelling eagerly. "He's a good talker, but don't let that count with you."
"Will you tell me what I am wanted for?" asked Matt.
"For entering his store and stealing a lot of cutlery and jewelry,"
returned the constable.
"Forty-five dollars' worth," added Marvelling. "And all new stock, too! Oh, you thought you would get away with it mighty smart-like, didn't you?" he sneered.
"I haven't been near your store, and I know nothing about the theft,"
was Matt's steady reply.
"But we saw you run away from the store and come down here, didn't we, Jackson?"
"We certainly did," returned the constable, with a grave shake of his head.
"You saw me?" gasped Matt, starting back.
"Exactly," said Isaac Marvelling. "I heard you run out of the yard behind the store right after I had called in Jackson to tell him about the robbery. We both saw you jump the fence and skip off in this direction."
"You might as well own up to what you have done," added the constable.
"It won't do you any good to deny it."
For the moment Matt did not reply to this. He was thinking of what had occurred at the bridge just before the two men had reached it. Could it be possible that the dark object which had left the place when he had arrived was the thief, rooted out of what he had considered a safe hiding-place?
"How near were you to me when you saw me first?" he asked of Marvelling.
"We were near enough."
"Did you see my face?"
"Never mind if we did or not."
"No, I must say I didn't see your face," said the constable, who, although a friend of the store-keeper, was yet disposed to be fair and square.
"You probably saw a man, and he ran in this direction," went on Matt.
"We saw you," said Marvelling doggedly. "March him back to the store, Jackson, and we'll make him confess where he has placed the stolen stuff. He doesn't seem to have it with him."
"If you wish to get back your goods you had better listen to what I have to say," returned Matt, trying to keep down his rising temper. "I did not enter your store, but perhaps I can put you on the track of the party who did."
"Oh, pshaw! that's all talk!" snarled Isaac Marvelling. "March him back, Jackson."
"It won't do any harm to listen to his story," said the constable meekly. "I reckon you want to get the goods back more than anything."
"Of course! of course!" responded the store-keeper eagerly. "I can't afford to lose forty-five dollars' worth of stuff at once."
"You say you didn't do the job, and that you think you can put us on the right track?"
"I think I can do something for you," returned Matt.