"I have my reasons."
"You're awfully smart, boy; most too smart to live! But I am going to have what I want, understand that!"
With unsteady steps the man walked to the rear end of the counter and came around to the inner side. He was met by Matt, who, becoming alarmed, had picked up the butt-end of a fishing-rod with which to defend himself.
"You can't come back here, sir."
"Oh, yes, I can."
"I say you cannot. The best thing you can do is to go elsewhere."
"What! do you threaten me?"
"I want you to understand that you cannot come back here. I told you I did not wish to sell you a pistol, and that ought to be enough."
"Want to fight, boy?" demanded the man, scowling savagely and doubling up his fists.
"No, I do not wish to fight. I merely wish to be left alone."
Matt had hardly spoken when the tipsy man hurled himself forward, intending to catch the young auctioneer by the throat. But Matt was too quick for him. He stepped backward, and the consequence was that the man went headlong,
