Free The Waltons 2 - Trouble on the Mountain by Robert Weverka Page A

back. Can you come and get it?”
    Jacob turned off the key and swung down from the truck. “Why not? So you’ve found a treasure chest in the backyard, eh?”
    “We’ve got a pair of boots, and an old tire, and all kinds of good stuff.”
    Jacob smiled. If anyone wanted to sell boots these days you could bet they were worthless. And old tires were worth a dime at the most.
    Elizabeth led him past the sawmill to what looked like a toolshed. The oldest girl was inside struggling with a box while the others waited. “Hi, Mr. Levy,” they smiled.
    “You’re Erin, and this big boy is Joe-Bob, and inside is Mary Ellen.”
    “Jim-Bob,” Jim-Bob corrected.
    “Ahh, my apologies, sir. And to make amends, please accept this.”
    A piece of red cellophane-wrapped candy magically appeared in his hand.
    Jim-Bob’s eyes widened. “Gee, thanks.”
    “And where is your papa today? He’s not at home?”
    “They turned off our electricity,” Erin said. “Daddy’s trying to get some money somewhere.”
    “Ahh, times are bad, times are bad. And what are these treasures you’ve found?”
    The tire and boots were already outside the shed. Mary Ellen placed a wooden box next to them and went back inside. The box was filled with scrap metal—rusty gears, broken tools, nuts, bolts, and a couple of broken saw blades. Mary Ellen came out with a second box that appeared to be filled with the same material. Jacob smiled and knelt by the boots. The leather in them had dried out and hardened beyond recovery, and the soles were gone. The tire was worn through, with huge holes in it. The only things of any value at all were the two boxes of scrap iron. Jacob felt each of them for weight, then shook his head.
    “If I buy the whole lot of it by the pound, you’ll end up with fifty cents.” He shrugged. “I’ll give you seventy-five.”
    They obviously had expected more. People always expected more.
    “A dollar,” Mary Ellen said.
    The defiance in her voice suggested that this wasn’t the first time Mary Ellen Walton had engaged in the business of selling things. Jacob smiled. “So someone told you maybe you should bargain with old Jake?”
    “We need the money, Mr. Levy. Every cent counts.”
    “Ahh, so you’re going to pay for the electricity, eh?”
    “No, it’s for a Super Deluxe Beauty Kit. Ike’s got it down at his store, and we still need a dollar and ninety-five cents.”
    “Oh, well, that’s different. A beauty kit every young girl should have.” He glanced around at the anxious faces. “But I don’t see what any of you beautiful young ladies would do with it.”
    “Please, Mr. Levy” Erin said.
    “And how about your papa? He says it’s all right to sell these wonderful things?”
    “Mama said it was all right. Nobody’s used any of this stuff for years.”
    “It’s just worthless old junk,” Erin added, and quickly got a dark look from Mary Ellen.
    Jacob rubbed his chin and gave them a sly smile. “Well, you want a dollar. I could offer you, say, eighty cents, and then you would ask ninety-five. But who has all day? A man of my heavy responsibilities must be tending to business.” He drew out his wallet. “One dollar—so be it!”
    Their faces instantly brightened.
    “But there’s one condition,” Jacob said, rising. “For an old man you’ve got to help me carry the merchandise out to the truck.”
    Mary Ellen was delighted with the deal. She couldn’t imagine what anyone could do with a worn-out tire or boots and a couple of boxes full of rusty iron. At best, she had hoped to get fifty or sixty cents.
    Once they had heaved the boxes up on the truck bed and waved good-bye to Mr. Levy, all four of them rushed into the house to announce the good news.
    Olivia listened patiently through a complete recounting of the conversation and bargaining, and then smiled. “I think that’s wonderful, and you’re all very good businessmen and women. But I wish you’d all go outside again and try to be