and he vos left me all his land and houses in Bremen.
See, I vos shown you der letter from der lawyers vot have his vill
got."

And he produced a large letter-head, upon which was written a dozen
lines in German, which neither could read.

"Never mind that," said Andrew. "Show us your horse and wagon, and set
a bottom cash price on them."

"Come dis vay."

The baker led the way around the corner to a boarding-stable, and
brought forth a good, chunky brown-and-white horse, that did not look
to be over six years old.

"Stand around, Billy!" he cried. "Dere he vos, chentlemen, and chust
so goot a horse as der vos in New York."

"Anything the matter with him?" asked Matt, as he began an examination
of the animal.

"Not a ding, sir. He vos sound as a tollar, and chentle as a lamb. I
vos use him on der bread route for a year and more."

"And where is the wagon?" questioned Andrew Dilks.

"Here vos der wagon," said the baker, as he ran the vehicle out so
that they might look it over.

It was a four-wheeled affair, quite large and heavy. There was one
seat in the center, and before and behind this were two big boxes,
each with a hinged lid. In the rear was a rack for pies and cakes.
There was also a box under the seat, and a money drawer which opened
with a concealed push button.

"This is just the thing for us," whispered Andrew to Matt. "For a
one-horse wagon, it could not be better arranged. The running gear
seems to be in good condition, too."

"Vell, vot you dinks of them?" asked the baker, after they had
finished their survey.

"Where is the harness?" asked Matt.

"Here she vos, new two veeks ago, and here vos der vip, too."

"And what is the lowest you can take for the rig?" asked Andrew. "We
are willing to pay spot cash, but cannot afford a fancy figure."

"I vos sold der whole dings for dree hundred dollar."

At this announcement Matt's face fell. Three hundred dollars! It was
more than they had to spend for both turnout and stock.

"Three hundred dollars," repeated Andrew Dilks. "If that's the case,
we can't do business with you."

"Dot's too pad. How much you gif, hey?"

"We will give you a hundred and seventy-five."

At this announcement the German baker held up his hands in horror, and
muttered a number of ejaculations in his native tongue.

"Make it two hundred and seventy-five," he said.

"We can't do it."

"Den take der turnout for two hundred and fifty."

"No, we can't do it,"