The government didn't want them; private citizens didn't want them; they were a drug in the market.
But there was one man, ridiculous beyond his generation, who got it into his head that a fortune was to be made out of these same guns.

To buy them all, to hold on to them until war was declared again (as he had no doubt it would be in a few months), and then sell out at fabulous prices--this was the daring idea that addled the pate of Silas Trefethen, "Dealer in E.& W.I.Goods and Groceries," as the faded sign over his shop-door informed the public.
Silas went shrewdly to work, buying up every old cannon he could lay hands on.

His back-yard was soon crowded with broken-down gun-carriages, and his barn with guns, like an arsenal.

When Silas's purpose got wind it was astonishing how valuable that thing became which just now was worth nothing at all.
"Ha, ha!" thought Silas.

"Somebody else is tryin' hi git control of the market.