A few minutes later found Matt on his way to the Columbus Hotel.  The Bowery was crowded with all classes of people, some just returning from work, and others out sightseeing and buying, but the boy had no difficulty in making his way along at a rapid gait.  In less than a quarter of an hour he reached the hotel and entered the office.  He was about to accost the clerk at the desk, when somebody tapped him on the shoulder, and turning he saw Andrew Dilks.

“I have been watching for you,” said the young man.  “I was a little afraid you might disappoint me.”

“I was detained,” said Matt.  “But I am at your service now.  Where shall we go?”

“My room is rather small and warm, but it is more private than the reading-room down here,” returned Andrew Dilks.  “Suppose we go up there.  You can sit by the window and get what little breeze there is.”

They started for the stairs (there was no elevator, as in all better-class hotels), and were soon comfortably seated in Andrew Dilks’ room, an apartment on the third floor, in the rear.

“It’s not a very elegant place,” remarked the young man apologetically, “but it’s cheap, and that’s what I wanted.  A fellow can’t spend his money and save it, too.”

“You are right there.”

“As I said before, old Gulligan only gave me ten dollars a week, and out of that I had to pay for many articles that got broken.  He put off what he could on me, whether it was my fault or not.”

“I believe you said you had a hundred and thirty-five dollars?”

“Yes.  It’s not much, but it’s something.  I wish you had as much.  I’ve figured it that we might start with a single horse and an ordinary covered wagon on two hundred and seventy dollars, and still keep twenty dollars in cash for emergencies.”

“I have an idea I can raise the amount.”

“You can?  Good enough!”

“But, first, I want you to give me some of the particulars of your scheme.”

“I’ll do that willingly.  I want you to understand every detail before you invest.  Then you will know just what to expect.”

Andrew Dilks brought out a sheet of paper and a pencil and began to do some figuring.

“We will put down our combined capital at two hundred and fifty dollars,” he said.  “Now, what can we get a good horse for?”

“Two hundred dollars!” laughed Matt.

“You are right, but we must get one cheaper.”

“Supposing we look around for a bargain at one hundred dollars, then?”

“That is nearer the figure.  We do not want a fancy animal nor a particularly fast one.  A horse that can pull our wagon ten to twenty miles a day once or twice a week will answer.”

“Yes; we can trade him off for something better later on.”

“Now, I’ll put down a hundred for the horse.  The wagon ought not to cost over fifty or sixty dollars.”

“Make it seventy-five for wagon and harness,” said Matt.

“It will foot up to two hundred with rubber blankets and extras.”

“I suppose it will.  Well, even that will leave us with fifty dollars for stock.”

“Will that be enough?”

“We’ll make it do.  If we run out I can leave you with the turnout, and come back to New York and buy more, and have it shipped as freight to the nearest railroad station.”

“I see.  I suppose they do not do any trusting with auctioneers?”

“Not with such traveling auctioneers as we will be.  I would rather buy for cash, anyway, for you can buy much cheaper.”

“I suppose you can.  What would you take along, and where would you go?”

“My idea for the balance of this summer would be to strike out through New York State down into Pennsylvania, and then across to New Jersey.  Then we can rent a store in some small town for the winter, especially for the holidays, and start out early in the spring for the New England States.”

This plan met with Matt’s approval, and he asked what goods Andrew Dilks thought would be the most profitable to take along.

“I have a list here in my pocket,” returned the young man, bringing it forth.  “You see, it includes fancy articles and statuary, besides cheap watches, table cutlery, spoons, imitation gold rings, such musical instruments as accordions, banjos and violins, albums, razors, whips, and a dozen others.  That ought to meet the wants in almost any small town.”

“Can you play the musical instruments?” asked Matt.

“I can play the accordion — not very well, but enough to show the instrument off.”

“I can play the banjo, and also the harmonica.  You had better lay in a stock of mouth harmonicas.”

“I certainly will if you can play them.  They will sell readily if they are shown off.  It is good you can play the banjo.  We can play that and the accordion whenever we want to open up, and thus attract a crowd.  Some use a bell, but music, even when it is poor, is better.  Sometimes I used to sing a comic song or two for old Gulligan when we were on the road, but I didn’t much care to do it.”

“No, I wouldn’t like that,” said Matt.

“Gulligan sold lots of what are called ‘fake’ goods,” went on Andrew Dilks.  “But my intention is to sell honest goods and sell them for just what they are.  We will perhaps not make as much, but people will be better pleased, and they will not want to run us out of town if we ever go back to the same place again.”

“I am with you there,” said Matt heartily.  “I was afraid you might want to palm off a lot of trash for first-class goods and I didn’t want to be a party to any such transaction.”

They continued to talk the subject over for fully an hour, and by that time both understood each other thoroughly, and had decided, if Matt could raise the necessary cash, to go into the scheme without delay.

“You see, we ought to do all the traveling possible before cold weather sets in,” said Andrew Dilks.  “It is in the villages where the most money is to be made, especially now, when the farmers are about done harvesting and have some ready cash.”

“As I am out of work, I can start the moment I get the money,” said Matt.  “And even if I don’t get that other money, I am willing to put in every cent of what I have now.”

On the following morning Matt was surprised to receive another visit from Ida Bartlett, who had eaten an unusually early breakfast so that she might come over before going to work.

“I knew you would be anxious to hear from me,” she said.  “It is all right.  The others are willing to let you have the money for a year at the regular bank interest, three per cent.”

“Thank you, and I’ll try to pay it back before the year is out,” returned Matt, much relieved.

“And you have arranged to go into the scheme?  It is all satisfactory?”

“Yes.”

“Good!  I wish you every success.”