There seemed to be a far
different type of buyer at this sale, than the girls had found at any of
the little sales in Westchester; and once the auctioneer began on the
antique pieces, the prices ran up alarmingly.

"That man standing over there just paid a hundred and sixty dollars for
that Colonial secretary," whispered Polly, annoyance expressed in her
tone for she had been bidding on the same piece.

"He doesn't look as if he had sixty cents in his purse," said Eleanor,
scornfully.

A lady standing beside her, looked at the buyer and smiled. "That man is
one of the buyers of one of the largest antique collectors in New York."

"He is!" gasped Eleanor.

"Who is the collector?" asked Polly, but the woman saw a little Toby put
up for sale, just then, and she wanted to bid on it, so Polly never
heard.

Anything that could boast of being a hundred years old, or more, brought
fabulous prices, and the girls were amazed to hear names that they had
read of in the columns of the New York papers, called out by the cashier,
but never dreamed they would come face to face with the owners thereof.

Jack Baxter spied a woman he knew, and finally brought her over to meet
Mrs. Fabian and the girls. This lady was a social leader in the City, and
furnished much interesting information to her new acquaintances, about
others present who were buying.

That sale taught Polly that it was not always the farm-houses that
furnished the rarest bargains at a sale, especially when that farm was in
proximity to a well-known residential suburb. But she also found that not
everyone who attends a public sale, and bids anxiously, knows the value
of what they are bidding on.

Thus it transpired, that she secured several of the finest antiques in
the house, because others knew nothing of their true records or had
overlooked the objects because of their unattractive finish or form.

Jack furnished much amusement to his friends by bidding on everything the
girls did not want. And the most amusing part of it was, he seldom
secured a thing he bid on. He finally grew so desperate in his bidding,
because Polly laughed at his luck, that the people frowned upon him as
being a "professional capper."

Mr. Van Styne overheard that remark and was furious.

"I want you all to know that I am an honest auctioneer! I never had a
booster in my life, and I've sold for nigh onto fifty years. That
nice-looking young man you call a 'capper' is a friend of some