CHAPTER VII

  STRICTLY BUSINESS

  The balloonist, Park Gregson, needed rest after his strenuous experienceof the previous day, so Frank did not disturb him. He and his mother hadtheir breakfast together, then Frank started out on his usual dailyround of duties.

  He did his chores about the house. Then he went down to the eighto’clock train to get a bundle of daily newspapers from the city. Thesehe delivered to his regular customers. At nine o’clock he went to theoffice of Mr. Beach, the lawyer.

  Frank was informed by the attorney’s clerk that Mr. Beach had leftGreenville to see a distant client. He would not be back for two days.

  “I need somebody’s advice about this five-day notice of Mr. Dorsett,”reflected Frank, and proceeded to visit the insurance man, Mr. Buckner.

  “Good!” exclaimed the latter briskly, as Frank put in an appearance, “Iwas just about to send for you.”

  “To send for me?” repeated Frank.

  “Yes, I told you that you might expect some further business commissionsfrom me, you remember?”

  “Yes, Mr. Buckner.”

  “Well, they have materialized. Can you give me your time unrestrictedlyfor a week or ten days?”

  “Why--yes, I think so,” answered Frank, but somewhat slowly, for hethought of their family complications.

  Mr. Buckner was a keen-witted man. He read something under the surfacein Frank’s hesitancy.

  “Something troubling you, Frank?” he suggested.

  “Oh, nothing serious, Mr. Buckner. It seems we have offended Mr. Dorsett.He is our landlord. He has ordered us to leave the house we rent from himwithin five days.”

  “Hum, the old curmudgeon! His house! I wonder whose it would be if someof his clever rascality was investigated?”

  “Well, I suppose we have got to go,” said Frank. “He is ugly anddetermined.”

  “Oh, that difficulty can be easily solved,” declared Mr. Buckner,lightly. “You know the vacant store front on Cedar street? I amagent for that property, owner a non-resident. There are five nice,comfortable living rooms upstairs. It’s only two blocks’ move for you.If it suits you, make the move. You need pay no rent until you decidewhere you wish to locate permanently.”

  “You are very kind,” said Frank.

  “Why--never thought of it!” exclaimed Mr. Buckner, with new animation ofmanner and voice. “The very thing, it exactly fits!”

  “What do you mean?” inquired Frank.

  “Sit down, and I’ll explain. You took a check yesterday to pay for somesalvage at a fire at Riverton.”

  “Yes, sir,” nodded Frank.

  “I notified my client last night by telegraph of our success. He’s aLancaster man, in the hardware line. He ran up to Greenville lastevening to see me. It seems that Morton, the man burned out at Riverton,was also in the hardware line. Everything he had was burned up in thefire. When they came to clear the wreck, they found all the metal stockhe carried massed in among the ashes in the cellar. The insurancecompany had it put in big packing cases. It was all mixed up, some ofthe stock damaged entirely. My client, however, decided that it mightnet him a profit on the two hundred dollars he paid for it.”

  “I see,” said Frank.

  “What he has engaged me to do, is to go or send to Riverton and get thestuff carted over here. Then he wants the rubbish gone over, and thegood stuff selected and sorted out. It seems that Morton had beenneglecting his regular hardware business for some time. He invented anapple corer that wouldn’t core very well. He bought a lot of littlestuff, such as initial buttons, needles and the like, and was trying toget into the mail order business, when the fire came along.”

  “The mail order business?” said Frank in a quick breath.

  “Yes. Now he’s going to take his insurance money and buy an interest insome publishing business in the city. Well, you can see that a littletime and care may result in picking out quite a lot of really valuablestuff from the mass, brushing it up and all that.”

  “Yes, indeed,” murmured Frank.

  “We can store the plunder in the Cedar Street building. You take chargeof it, hire what help you need, and I’ll divide with you what I chargemy client for my services. Pretty liberal, ain’t I now, Frank?” askedMr. Buckner, with a smile. “You doing all the work, and me getting afull half of the pay.”

  “Yes, but you are the directing genius of the affair, you know,”suggested Frank pleasantly.

  “Oh, I can direct all right, if you will do the hustling,” laughed theinsurance man. “Settled, is it? All right. My client thinks it will takea week or ten days to sort the stuff into some kind of shape. He’ll behere to inspect progress next Saturday. You make your arrangements, anddraw five dollars a day.”

  Frank was quite stunned at the munificent offer.

  “I trust you implicitly, Frank,” went on his kind friend. “Here is aletter to the custodian of the property at Riverton, and here is twentydollars to carry around with you to meet any expense that may come up.Hire the moving teams as cheaply as you can, store the boxes at theCedar Street place. I leave the details entirely to you. When can youstart in?”

  “Right now,” replied Frank promptly.

  “All right, get into action.”

  Frank was proud and pleased as he hurried back home. He did not let thegrass grow under his feet, but neither did he go off in a wild tangentthat might disorder things. He was all business and system.

  First, he reported to his mother. They decided to move at once. Then hesought out Nelson Cady, a close chum, and commissioned him to lookafter his evening paper route and other odd jobs he did daily. Frankdecided he could save money by hiring home talent to do the moving ofthe salvage stuff. He was not much acquainted at Riverton. The teamstersthere might be extortionate, as it was a double trip for the wagons.

  Within an hour’s time Frank had made an excellent bargain, and allinterested were duly satisfied with the arrangement. An honest old negronamed Eben Johnson, who carted ashes and other refuse for the town, wasnot doing much that especial day. He agreed to lease his two teams andone driver for twelve hours for seven dollars and the keep of man andhorses.

  Frank knew he could make no more economical arrangement than this. Byeleven o’clock he was on the way to Riverton, acting himself as driverof one of the teams.

  The driver of the other team was a good-natured though rather shiftlessfellow, named Boyle. When they reached Riverton, Frank took him to arestaurant, gave him the best meal he had ever eaten, and made thefellow his friend for life. The horses were given a first class feed anda good rest.

  Frank found he had to handle eight immense packing cases and one zincbox. This latter was full of books and papers. These went to thepurchaser, it seemed, along with the “good will” of the business.

  The eight packing cases were tremendously heavy. A glance at theircontents showed Frank a confused jumble. There were hammers and hatchetswith their handles burned off, saws and chisels, blackened, and some ofthem burned out of shape by the fire. There were nails, tacks, hinges,keys, door knobs, in fact a confusing mass of mixed hardware of everydescription.

  Frank and his man could not handle four of the cases alone. The lad hadto hire a couple of men to help them load these onto the wagons. As theygot all ready to start for home, the custodian came up with a littlewizened man with a Jewish cast of countenance, and introduced him as Mr.Moss.

  “There’s a lot of junk not worth carting away over at the ruins,”explained the custodian to Frank. “This man wants to buy it.”

  “All right,” said Frank, “let him make an offer.”

  “Mein frient, two dollars would be highway robbery for dot oldt stuff,”asserted the junk dealer, with a characteristic shrug of his shoulders.

  “Is that your offer, Mr. Moss?” asked Frank in a business-like tone.

  “I vill gif it chust to spite oldt Isaacs, my combetitor,” declaredMoss.

  “Well, we will go and take a look at the stuff,” said F
rank.

  “Mein frient, dot vos useless,” insisted Moss. “Time ish monish. Treetollars!”

  “No,” said Frank definitely. “I always calculate to know what I’mabout.”

  He left the wagons, and accompanied by Moss soon reached the blackenedruins of the hardware store.

  Just as they arrived there, a shrewd-faced little urchin approachingthem halted, and gave both a keen look.

  “Hoo!” he yelled--“I must tell vader!”

  Moss threw his cane after the disappearing urchin, and looked perturbedand anxious.

  “Dot vos de stuff,” he explained, pointing out two cindery piles back ofthe ruins.

  “Why,” said Frank, poking in and out among the debris, “there is quite aheap of it.”

  “Ashes, mein frient, ashes,” suavely observed the junk dealer.

  “Not at all,” retorted Frank. “Here is a stove, all but the top. Hereare a lot of hoes and rakes, twisted a little, but not entirelyworthless. Both heaps are nearly all solid metal. There must be over aton of iron here.”

  “Four tollars--I tell you vot I do: four tollars,” said Moss fervently.

  Frank shook his head and continued to look calculatingly at theblackened heaps.

  “Five tollars,” spoke Moss with sudden unction. “Mein tear younugfrient--cash. Say nodings. Dere vos de monish.”

  But Frank looked resolutely away from the bank note tendered as a nearshout rang out.

  A stout, clumsy man had come lumbering around the corner at his bestgait, in a frantic state of excitement.

  He was in his shirt sleeves, drenched with perspiration and waving hisarms wildly. Beside him ran the urchin Frank had before noticed. It wasapparent that he had succeeded in satisfying his father that a sale ofthe fire debris was on.

  “Mishter, Mishter,” he called, “it is Ezekiels Isaacs. I vill puy degoods. How mooch is offered?”

  “Five dollars so far,” repeated Frank tranquilly.

  “Six,” instantly bolted out the newcomer.

  “Seven!” snarled Moss.

  “Ten tollars,” pronounced the other, pulling out a fat pocketbook.

  “Gentlemen,” said Frank. “I have made up my mind. You must start yourreal bids at double that, or I cannot entertain an offer.”

  “Yesh,” cried Moss eagerly--“twenty tollars.”

  “Und a kee-varter!” howled his rival.

  “Un a hal-luf!”

  “Tage it!” roared Moss, waving his cane in impotent rage, and turnedaway disgusted.

  “Of course you gif me four per cent. discount for cash?” demanded thesuccessful bidder.

  “Of course I shall not,” dissented Frank. “Shall I call back Mr. Moss?No? Thanks,--that is correct, twenty dollars and fifty cents. Here is areceipt.”

  Frank felt that he had closed an exceptionally good sale. Withinhalf-an-hour the wagons were started on their way for Greenville.