“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 97 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 98 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.