Neither liked the looks of the newcomer, and both wished he would go away.
"Say, you don't want to take a fellow in, you?" asked the man, after a slight pause, as he came close beside Matt, who was nearest to him.
"No, we haven't any work for an outsider" returned the boy.
"I'm a rustler when I get a-going, let me tell you. I can tell stories and sing and sell more goods than any one has any idea of. Besides that, I've got a new corn salve I put up myself which goes like hot cakes. Barberry's Lightning Salve, I call it—my name is Paul Barberry, you know—Dr. Barberry, most of 'em call me. Say the word, and I'll go with you and put up my salve against your outfit, and we'll share and share alike."
"As I said before, we have no room for an outsider," returned Matt, while Andy nodded approvingly. "The wagon seat only holds two, and besides, our plans are all completed for our trip."
"Humph!" The man's face took on a sour look. "You are missing the chance of your lives."
"We'll risk it," laughed Andy.
"I can sell more salve than you can sell other goods every day in the week—and make more money, too."
