e young
auctioneers thought they would catch just as much trade by not
stopping on the way.

At Mauch Chunk a stop was made for three days, and during that time
there were several excursions to the place from New York and
Philadelphia, the city folks coming up to see the autumnal beauties of
Glen Onoko and the various mountains through which the Switchback
gravity road runs. These crowds helped business some, and the stay
proved nearly as profitable as the one at Easton had been.

On the first day at Mauch Chunk Matt procured the money order of which
he had spoken, and sent it to Ida Bartlett, with a long letter, in
which he thanked her for her kindness, and gave her an account of the
trip since leaving the metropolis. He stated that if she wished to
write to him within the week to address the letter to Wilkesbarre, or,
on the following week to Scranton, as they were bound for both
places.

During their spare hours both Andy and Matt took the ride on the
gravity road and enjoyed it very much. The rhododendrons were out in
full bloom, and Matt wished he could send Ida Bartlett a bunch of the
beautiful flowers.

They were soon once again on the road. But Billy's shoes had been
carefully attended to, and now they were very careful whenever they
came to a spot that looked at all dangerous.

"One scare is enough," was the way Andy put it, and Matt thoroughly
agreed with him.

After leaving Mauch Chunk they passed through Penn Haven and Leslie
Run, and so on to White Haven. At the latter place they stopped for
two days, but found it very unprofitable, as there was little or no
money afloat.

"Well, we have to take the bad with the good," said Andy, in reply to
Matt's remark concerning the dullness of trade. "We cannot expect to
make money wherever we go. If that was to be done, I reckon there
would be many other auctioneers in the field."

"That reminds me: I wonder what has become of those auctioneers we
heard of in Bethlehem?"

"I'm sure I don't know. But it is likely that we will hear from them
again, sooner or later."

On leaving White Haven for Wilkesbarre, they struck the first
snow-storm of the season. It was not a heavy storm, and yet, as the
wind blew in their faces, the drive of thirty miles proved anything
but pleasant. They were glad enough when the city was reached, and
they were able to put up the turn-out at a livery stable and warm up
around the office stove.

"We won't be able to travel much