Young Auctioneers: or, The Polishing of a Rolling Stone. Stratemeyer Edward

me, but I am sorry to state we have no license,” returned Andy frankly. “We did not expect to make any sales here, but were going straight through to Elizabeth.”

      “Very likely,” sneered the man, who was a special officer attached to the police department. “But I saw you make the sale, and you must come with me.”

      “Oh, Andy, let us pay the license,” exclaimed Matt, in a low voice, as visions of a week or a month in jail floated before his mind. It would be simply terrible to be locked up.

      “That’s what we will have to do,” returned Andy, who had been through such a predicament before, and was not, therefore, greatly alarmed. “Don’t be afraid; we will come out all right. Only it will cost us two or three dollars.”

      “I don’t care if it costs fifty – I don’t want to run afoul of the law,” returned Matt bluntly.

      “Nor do I,” returned his partner.

      “Well, what do you say?” demanded the officer sharply.

      “We will go with you and pay the license,” replied Andy.

      “All right.”

      “Will you ride with us?”

      “Don’t care if I do,” said the officer, and all three hopped on the wagon seat, and Matt drove off.

      The office where licenses could be procured was at the City Hall, on Broad Street. When they turned into that thoroughfare Matt uttered a cry of surprise.

      “What a broad street!” he exclaimed, as he surveyed it.

      “It is one of the broadest in any eastern city,” returned the officer, who seemed inclined to be more friendly now that they had shown a disposition to do the right thing.

      Inside of the City Hall they were compelled to wait near half an hour before they could procure their license. Then they were asked for how long a term they desired it.

      “For to-day only,” returned Andy, and so it was made out and as quickly paid for.

      “Oh, but I’m glad we are out of that scrape so easily!” murmured Matt, as the two walked back to their wagon. “I was afraid they would lock us up for ten days or a month.”

      “They would have their hands full locking up all the peddlers who try to sell goods without a license,” laughed Andy. “All they care for is the money.”

      “We will have to pay in almost every town we go, won’t we?”

      “Yes, every town. Some places charge so much that we won’t try to sell in them. I’ll make it a point after this to find out about a license as soon as we enter a place.”

      “Yes, do that by all means,” returned Matt, much relieved.

      Now that they had a license good for the balance of the day, Matt moved that they remain in Newark and try to make more sales.

      “Let us try all the restaurants,” he said. “We may be able to sell more of those knives and forks and spoons.”

      “I am willing,” said Andy. “This isn’t exactly auctioneering, but it pays just as well, so we have no cause to grumble.”

      They turned back into the business portion of the city and drove along slowly until two restaurants, directly opposite to each other, were reached.

      “I’ll take one and you can take the other,” said Andy. “Be sure and sell all you can,” he added, with a laugh.

      Matt nodded, and with half a dozen samples under his arm, he entered the restaurant on the right.

      It must be confessed that the boy’s heart beat rather fast. This was the first time he had endeavored to effect a sale solely on his own responsibility. Moreover, Andy was pitted against him, trying to sell goods in a similar way to similar people.