The Young Auctioneers/Chapter 16
CHAPTER XVI.
THE CONFIDENCE MAN.
"By Jove! look at that!" cried the man, in a low tone, as he picked up the pocket-book and surveyed it. "That's a find, isn't it?"
"It is, indeed," returned Matt. "How much is there in it?"
"Come with me and I'll see," said the man, and without waiting for Matt to offer a reply, he caught the boy by the arm, and forced him through the crowd to an open spot behind a large tree.
"I would like to know who lost this," went on the man, as he opened the flap of the pocket-book, and gazed inside at the contents. "By Jove! look at that pile of bills!" he went on, as he turned the pocket-book around so that Matt might catch sight of what certainly did look like twenty-five or thirty bank bills tucked away in one of the pockets. "Must be a hundred dollars or more in it."
"The owner of that pocket-book will miss it," returned Matt. "You ought to make an effort to find him."
"Of course! of course!" assented the man heartily. "I don't want to keep anybody's money—not if I know it is theirs. Let me see if there is a card in it."
He turned the pocket-book around and put his fingers first in one pocket and then another.
"Not a blessed thing but that pile of bills," he went on. "Now, isn't that strange?"
Then he suddenly drew from his vest pocket a gold watch and looked at it.
"Quarter to three!" he exclaimed in a startled tone. "And I must catch the three o'clock train for Baltimore! I haven't time to look up the owner of this pocket-book, valuable as it is."
"You might take a later train," suggested Matt.
The man shook his head.
"No, I have an engagement in Baltimore immediately upon the arrival of this train which I would not miss for a dozen such pocket-books."
"Then you'll have to take the money with you."
"I wouldn't feel just right about doing that," returned the man with a bland smile. "I would feel like a thief. I'll tell you what I will do," he went on smoothly and earnestly. "Give me twenty dollars, and you take the pocket-book. Perhaps you won't be able to find an owner, and then the money will all be yours, and if you do find an owner, he will certainly offer more of a reward than twenty dollars."
"I take the pocket-book?" said Matt, considerably surprised by the offer.
"Yes; I really can't wait, and I do not feel satisfied to take that money with me."
"But, supposing I do not find the owner, do you not want part of the money?"
"No; you can keep it all."
This certainly seemed a very liberal offer, and had Matt had less experience of the world at large, he might have accepted on the spot. But the apparent open-heartedness of the stranger only served to make him more cautious.
"Let us count the money and see how much there is in the pocket-book," he remarked, hardly knowing what else to say.
"No, I haven't time to do that," said the stranger hastily. "As it is, I have now barely ten minutes in which to get to the depot. If you want to accept my offer, give me the twenty dollars, and I'll run for the depot."
And the man moved around as if in the greatest hurry of his life.
"I haven't twenty dollars with me."
"Indeed! I thought you looked like a well-to-do young man"
"I have twelve dollars"
"Well—let that do, but be quick!"
And the stranger held out his hand for the amount.
"Never mind," remarked Matt, struck with an idea which he resolved to carry out if he went into the scheme at all. "I'll take the money from the pocket-book, and if I find the owner I will tell him how I came to do it."
"No; don't you touch the contents of the pocketbook!" exclaimed the stranger, hastily snatching the article in question from Matt's hand. "That would not be right!"
"Yes, but I will make it right with the owner, if I"
"I can't wait any longer for that train!" cried the stranger, and without another word he placed the pocket-book into his coat-pocket and disappeared into the crowd.
For the instant Matt stared after him, and then a light burst upon the boy's mind.
"He is a confidence man and was trying to swindle me!" he murmured to himself. "If that pocket-book contained much it was a single dollar bill on a pile of green paper! How lucky I was not to jump at his offer when he first made it!"
As soon as he had reached this conclusion, Matt made after the man. But the crowd was too thick and too large to find him, and after a quarter of an hour's search the young auctioneer gave it up.
It was now getting late, and as soon as he was satisfied that the confidence man was gone, Matt hurried along on his errand.
He found that the lady who had purchased the goods had just reached home. She had heard of the brown bear episode, and insisted upon Matt giving her the particulars, which he did. She was very much interested in his story, and after she had heard how the affair terminated she plied him with questions concerning the auction business.
"You may think me very curious," she said at length. "But the reason I ask is because my only son, Tom Inwold, ran away with a traveling auctioneer about three months ago."
"Ran away?" repeated Matt.
"Yes; he got into a difficulty in school, and when I insisted that he apologize to his teachers, he grew angry and left the house."
"How old was he?"
"Tom was fifteen last May."
"He was very young to become an auctioneer," smiled Matt, "I am hardly old enough for the business."
"He has made a friend of this auctioneer—who used to stand up in a wagon and sing songs, and then sell cheap jewelry—and he went off with him one Saturday, when I thought he had gone to New York with his uncle."
"And doesn't he want to come back?" asked Matt, deeply interested.
"I have never heard of him since he went away." Mrs. Inwold put her handkerchief to her eyes to dry the tears which had started. "One reason I wished these goods delivered was because I thought I might get a chance to talk to you about Tom. You intend to travel from place to place, do you not?"
"Yes, madam; we shall remain here but a few days."
"Then, perhaps, in your travels you may run across Tom. If you do I wish you would tell him to send word home. He ought to come home of himself, but I suppose he won't do that, he is so headstrong."
"I should think he would prefer a good home to traveling around with a cheap jewelry man," was Matt's comment, as he looked around at the comfortable house Mrs. Inwold occupied. "I know I would."
"Boys do not always know what is best for them," sighed the lady. "Tom generally had his own way, and that made him headstrong. He is my only son, and as his father is away most of the time, I suppose I treated him more indulgently than was good for him."
"You have no idea where he and the jewelry man went?"
"Not the slightest. I notified the police and sent out several detectives, but could learn nothing. The detectives told me that the jewelry man was little better than a thief, and always covered his tracks when he left a city, so that his victims could not trace him up."
"That's most likely true. But I trust you do not take my partner and me for such fellows," added Matt honestly.
"No; you look like a young gentleman, and the other young man was one, too, I feel sure."
"We try to do things on the square. We never willfully misrepresent what we sell—as many do."
"That is right, and if you keep on that way you will be bound to prosper. No one ever yet gained much by resorting to trickery in trying to get along."
Mrs. Inwold talked to Matt for quite awhile after this, and promised to come down to the store and buy several other articles of which she thought she stood in need. It was nearly five o'clock when the boy left the mansion.
"A very nice lady," thought Matt, as he hurried back to the auction store. "I hope I meet her son Tom some day. I'll tell him how she feels about his going away, and advise him to return home without delay. My gracious! you wouldn't catch me leaving a home like that in order to put up with the hardships of the road!"