“Must I?” sneered the store-keeper. “Well, I reckon not.”
“Very well, then.” Matt turned to several men standing by the door. “Will one of you gentlemen kindly call in the constable or some other officer?”
“What—what do you mean?” asked Isaac Marvelling in a lower tone, and much disturbed.
“I mean to have you put out as a disorderly character, that’s what I mean,” returned Matt firmly. “I have paid my license, and so long as I do business on the square I do not intend to allow any one to bulldoze me or call me a swindler.”
“That’s right! That’s right!” cried several men in the crowd, and the woman who had first spoken nodded approvingly.
“You’re a mighty big boy!” sneered the store-keeper, but all noticed that he retreated several steps toward the open doorway.
“I am big enough to defend myself,” replied the young auctioneer quickly. “I want you to leave. I am no more of a swindler than you are—perhaps not as much. I am conducting this business on an honest basis, and I will not stand by and let you or any one else blacken my character.”
“We’ll see—we’ll see,” muttered Isaac Marvelling, 153 and greatly enraged, but unable to say a word in his own defense, and fearful that an officer might appear, he withdrew.
This little incident served to make Matt many friends. People always like to see persons stick up for their rights, and in this particular case they were pleased to see the mean store-keeper “talked-down,” as he well deserved to be.
The album was again put up, and after considerable talking was knocked down to Podders, the very individual Isaac Marvelling had endeavored to persuade away from the sale. Matt purposely let Podders have the album quite cheaply, and as soon as it was his Podders declared he would call at Marvelling’s store and see if it could be duplicated at the price he had paid.