k in the morning
until eleven at night.

On the third day it began to grow warmer, and by noon it was raining
steadily.

"Well, never mind, the rain will wash the snow away, and if it only
stays clear afterward we will have a chance to get on to Carbondale,"
was Andy's cheerful comment.

Seeing that Matt could get along very well alone, he left the store in
the afternoon to buy a heavy overcoat at some clothing establishment.
If he procured what he wished, Matt was to buy one also.

Left to himself, the young auctioneer did what he could to attract
trade, but without success. He waited on the few customers who had
drifted in, but when they were gone found himself alone.

Rather than have the time hang heavily upon his hands he began to
clean up the stock. Cutlery and spoons need constant care to keep them
looking bright, and Matt was, therefore, never at a loss for
employment.

While he was hard at work shining up some silver-plated ware which was
slightly tarnished through handling, the door of the store was flung
open violently, and a large, heavily-built man staggered in. At a
glance Matt saw that the man was much the worse for the liquor he had
drunk.

"Say, is this an auction store?" grunted the man, as he tried to walk
up to the counter with some show of steadiness.

"It is," returned the young auctioneer briefly. Of all persons to deal
with he hated a drunken man the worst.

"It is, hey--a genuine auction store?" went on the tipsy individual.

"Yes. What can I do for you?" and Matt put the silverware he was
handling away.

"I want to buy a pistol."

Matt was surprised at this statement, and he was also alarmed. The
tipsy man was certainly not the person to have a firearm in his
possession.

"You wish a pistol?" he said slowly.

"That's me, boy! Hand out the best pistol you have in the place! I
don't want any toy pop-gun remember!"

And the man glared at Matt as though the boy were his one personal
enemy.

"Excuse me, but I hardly think I have a pistol to suit you," replied
the young auctioneer, thinking it best to discourage the man if
possible. "You had better go to a regular firearms store."

"I ain't a-going nowhere but here!" growled the would-be customer, as
he gave a lurch against the counter. "I want a pistol; best you got,
understand?"

"I understand, but I haven't any pistol for you," Matt replied
steadily. He wished Andy would come back.

"What! do you mean to say you refuse