aimed Dick Prescott,
crowding forward and gazing at the pony with glistening eyes.

"I wish I had the money to buy him," whispered Dave Darrin.

"Maybe I couldn't use that kind of a cut-down horse!" glowed Tom
Reade, while Harry and Dan looked on longingly.

"That's what the muckers are here after!" thought Fred Ripley,
who had been watching them closely. "Now, no matter how much
money they may think they have, I'll show them how easy it is
for a fellow of my financial standing to step in and get the chestnut
pony away from them!"

"Who starts the bidding with twenty dollars?" demanded the auctioneer.

"Ten," finally responded a man in the crowd.

"Thank you. But, gentlemen, ten dollars is a shame for a beautiful
animal like this. Who makes it twenty? Start it right up now!"

Presently the bidding had reached sixteen dollars. Dick and his
chums had crowded still closer to the pony, looking on with lively
interest.

"Here's where I sting Prescott and his crew!" muttered Fred Ripley
under his breath. Then, aloud, he called:

"Twenty!"

"Thank you," smiled the auctioneer, nodding in Ripley's direction.
"Here is a young man of sound judgment and a good idea of money
values, as his manner and his whole appearance testify."

"Someone hold Rip, or he'll burst," laughed Greg Holmes in Dick's
ear.

But Fred thought the chums were conferring as to how far they
could go with what means the six of them might have at hand.

"They will get going soon," thought Fred gleefully.

Just then Dick Prescott piped up:

"Twenty-two!"

"Twenty-two? Thank you," bowed the auctioneer. "Another young
gentleman of the finest judgment. Who says twenty-five?"

"Twenty-three," offered Fred.

"Twenty-five," called Prescott promptly.

An instant after Dick had made this bid he felt heartily ashamed
of himself. He hadn't intended to buy the pony, and didn't have
the money. He had obeyed a sudden instinct to tease Fred Ripley,
but now Dick wished he hadn't done it.

"Twenty-six!" called young Ripley.

The auctioneer looked at Prescott, but the latter, already abashed
at his own conduct, made no further offer.

"Twenty-eight!" called a man in the crowd, who knew that the wealthy
lawyer's son usually got whatever he wanted very badly. This
new bidder thought he saw a chance to get the pony, then later
to force Fred to pay a still higher price for the animal.

"Thirty!" called Ripley, with a sidelong glance at Dick