uld leave the
neighborhood."

"I trust your husband succeeds in having them all locked up," put in
Matt, "for they richly deserve it." And after a few words more with
the farmer's wife they passed on.

It was getting on toward noon when they finally arrived at Bethlehem,
that pretty little town on the Lehigh River. They drove past several
of the silk mills, and finally found a livery stable, at which Billy
and the wagon were put up.

"It looks as if we might do some business here," said Andy, as they
started for a restaurant for dinner. "Let us open up this afternoon if
possible."

"Shall we hire a store?"

"Let us try to sell from the wagon first."

Immediately after dinner they procured a license and found a suitable
corner. They did all in their power to attract a crowd, and finally,
toward evening, when the working people were on their way home,
succeeded in bringing quite an assemblage around them.

But, strange to say, they could not make a single sale, try their
best. Both used up all their eloquence; Matt played on the banjo and
mouth harmonica, and Andy told funny stories. It was no use; the crowd
merely smiled or frowned, and then one after another drifted away.

"This is the worst luck yet," whispered Andy to Matt. "I never dreamed
that we would strike anything like this."

A stout German who stood in the crowd saw the look of wonder and
disappointment on Andy's face, and he laughed heartily.

"You ton't vos caught der same pirds twice alretty!" he chuckled to
several bystanders.

"What's that?" questioned Matt, who overheard the remark.

"You ton't vos caught der same pirds twice mit der same salt,"
returned the German, and he laughed heartily at what he considered a
good joke, while those around smiled and nodded approvingly.

"I must say I don't see the joke," said Matt cheerfully. "Won't you
let me in the secret?"

"Dose udder fellers vos schwindle us, put you can't do it twice
times!" was the reply.

"Other fellows swindled you?" repeated Matt.

"Yes, dose fellers mit dot wagon vot vas here all last week. I don't
dink but vot you vos der same crowd of fellers!"

CHAPTER XXXI.

DANGEROUS MOUNTAIN TRAVELING.

Both Matt and Andy began to smell a mouse, as the saying is, and they
lost no time in questioning not only the German, but several other
people that remained around the wagon.

The young auctioneers soon learned that a rival party of auctioneers
with a large two-hor