the box. It was not on the bed, nor on the bureau, nor
pushed back on a shelf in the closet. It was on a chair near the door
where his mother had put it and then forgotten it. As the key was
outside Tim made his exit the way he came in, stopping a moment to look
at the milk the cat was lapping with a great deal of satisfaction.

"Bobbs, you'll have a good supper, and I shall catch old hundred for
giving it to you," he said, picking up the pan and springing through the
window.

He was very warm, and taking off his coat he threw it across his arm and
started rapidly for the sale, knowing before he reached it that Mr.
Bills was there by the sounds he heard. He had no thought that the apron
was not to be sold at auction. Probably that was why it was wanted, and
pushing through the crowd to Mr. Bills he handed him the box, saying,
"Here 'tis. I 'bout run my legs off to get it. Make 'em pay smart."

"Mr. Bills! Mr. Bills!" came excitedly from Ruby Ann, but Mr. Bills did
not hear, the buzz of voices was so great.

He had opened the box and taken out the apron, which he handled far more
carefully than he had the spotted gown.

"Now this is something like first-class business," he said, holding it
up. "The prettiest thing you ever saw,--a girl's apron, all ruffled and
prinked, and,--yes,--made by--"

He had glanced at the card, which said it was made by Miss Smith, and
was about to announce that fact, feeling sure it would bring bidders,
when he chanced to look at Eloise, whose face was nearly as white as the
apron, and in whose eyes he saw an expression which checked the words.
But he had no idea of relinquishing the article, and misunderstood the
motion of Jack's hand to stop him.

"Now, give me an offer," he began,--"a first-rate one, too; none of your
quarters, nor halves. Bid high and show you know something. 'Tain't
every day you have a chance to buy as fine a thing as this. You who have
wives, or daughters, or sisters, or sweethearts, or want it for
yourselves, speak up! Walk up! Roll up! Tumble up! Any way to get up,
only come up and bid!"

He was looking at Jack, whose face was as red as Eloise's was pale.

"If the thing must be sold at auction it shall bring a good price, and
I'll get it, too," he thought.

Standing close to him was Tom Walker, who all the evening had hovered
near Eloise.

"Tom," Jack said. "I have a sister, you know."

Tom didn't know, but he nodded, and Jack went on: "That apron is the