As soon as he felt certain that the sky was brightening to remain so, Matt untied Billy, and harnessed him to the wagon once more.

"Now, Billy, we'll get back to the road just as fast as we can," he said to the horse. "And I trust that you will never run away again in that fashion, old boy."

On all sides arose bushes and rocks, and, although the road might be close at hand, Matt thought it best to return the way they had come.

He wished to take no more chances, feeling that it would be the easiest thing in the world to get lost, or to run the turn-out into some hollow or hole from which it would be next to impossible to extricate it.

But to return by the route they had come was itself no easy task. In his terror, Billy had dragged the heavy vehicle over several very uneven places, full of stumps and rocks, and now the animal, still somewhat exhausted, had all he could do to move back over the trail which had been left.

Matt led the horse, and on more than one occasion had to place his shoulder to the rear end of the wagon to help over a particularly bad spot. Thus they moved on, taking half an hour to cover a distance which had previously been traveled in less than half that time.

"Thank goodness, we are out of that at last!" exclaimed Matt, as the road finally appeared in sight. "Now to see if any damage has been done."

The young auctioneer made a minute examination of every bolt and spring, as well as of the running gear and harness. He was overjoyed to find everything still in good order, despite the rough usage to which it had been put. The wagon body was scratched in a dozen places, but this could be easily remedied.

The rubber blankets were put away, and the lap-robe left fluttering in the rear to dry, and then Matt once more resumed his lonely journey in the direction of High Bridge.

The heavy rain had left the road deep with mud, and through this Billy plodded slowly along, Matt not having the heart to urge him to a greater speed, knowing well that the faithful animal was doing as well as could be reasonably expected of him.

"As soon as we reach High Bridge I must find a good stable for Billy, and change my clothes," thought Matt. "And something hot to drink won't go bad, either. Ugh! I am chilled clear to the bone!"

And he gave a shiver that was as genuine as it was uncomfortable.

The road now led downward and around a bend, where was situated another heavy bit of timber. As Matt approached the wood he saw some distance back from the road a shanty built of rough logs and boards, and thatched with weather-beaten shingles and bits of old tin and oil-cloth. There was a rude chimney upon the outside of the rear of this shanty, and from this a thin cloud of smoke was issuing.

"Humph! here is somebody's home, but a very poor one," thought Matt.

"I shouldn't wonder but those inside got a pretty good soaking, by the looks of things."

At first the young auctioneer determined to stop, but upon second thought, he concluded to go on, satisfied that no accommodations worthy of the name could be had there.

"If I can't strike something better, I'll keep right on to High Bridge," was his thought, and he was just about to urge Billy on once more, when the door of the shanty opened and a man came out.

The man was apparently fifty years of age, and rough in looks. His beard was long, as was also his hair, and both seemed to be much in need of shears and brush. His clothing and his face were dirty, and altogether he presented a decidedly ill-favored appearance.

"Hullo, there, stranger!" he called out. "Where bound?"

"Bound for High Bridge," replied Matt as he drew rein. "How many miles is it?"

"Not many," was the rather indefinite reply. "Suppose you got cotched in that storm, eh?"

"Yes, I got the full benefit of it."

"It was a heavy one, no mistake about that. What sort of a turn-out have you got there?"

"An auction goods wagon."

"Carrying stuff around the country to sell at auction?"

"Yes."

"I see. Say, maybe you've got something you would like to sell me,"

and the man, after speaking to some one in the shanty, stepped up closer to the turn-out.

"Perhaps I have, but it's pretty well packed up," returned Matt, who was not at all taken by the man's manner. "We'll be open at High Bridge this evening, or to-morrow, if nothing happens."

"We? Got somebody else with you?"

"Not on the wagon, but I have a partner."

"I see. What line of goods do you carry?"

Matt named over a number of articles. The man's eyes brightened as he listened.

"Let me have a pair of suspenders," he said. "I need them worst way.

And if you've got a good pocket-knife I'll patronize you so much more.

Drive up in the back of the house and tie fast anywhere."

"Excuse me, but I would prefer getting to High Bridge. I am wet to the skin, and I want to change my clothes."

"That's all right, young fellow. We've got a fire inside, and you can dry yourself there just as well as not."

"But my horse----"

"I'll take care of the horse. I've got a shed a bit back of those bushes. Come on in; what are you afraid of?"

Thus urged, Matt sprang from the wagon seat to the ground. As he did so he noted a look of satisfaction gleam upon the man's dirty face, and he saw the fellow wave his hand toward the shanty's one window. He turned swiftly in the direction, and was in time to see two equally repulsive heads dodge aside out of sight.

Only for a second did the young auctioneer hesitate. Then something warned him to beware of danger, and he turned again to the wagon and placed one foot upon the shaft step.

"Hi! what are you going to do?" cried the man, in surprise.

"I guess I won't stop," returned the boy. "That storm does not seem to be quite over, and I do not wish to catch a second dose."

"But you will stop, sonny!" exclaimed the man, with a sudden change of manner. "Hi, Jake! Baldy! Come out here and help me manage this young fellow!" he went on, in a louder tone.

The other men at once rushed from the shanty, and in a trice Matt was surrounded.

CHAPTER XIX.

OUT OF A BAD Sc.r.a.pE.

It did not take the young auctioneer long to understand the true nature of the situation in which he now found himself. The three men who had surrounded him were nothing more or less than tramps who had undoubtedly sought shelter in the shanty from the storm. That they were thoroughly unscrupulous men went without saying, and it must be confessed that Matt's heart sank within him as he realized the danger in which he was placed.

"Let go of me!" he said sternly to the first man, who had presumed to catch him by the arm. "Let go, I say!"

"Don't you do it, Crabs!" put in the tramp called Jake. "Hold tight to him while I tie up the hoss."