"Feels like it!" said a second.

Stebbings bid the lot up to four dollars and got it. There was more fun
as he unrolled the numerous wrappings of the package to disclose a small
metal disc used in a threshing machine.

One purchaser got a gold pen, another a very pretty stick pin.

Lem Wacker had not engaged in the general commotion. He had retained his
place on a bench, looking bored, but for some reason sitting out the
session, and Bart wondered why.

Baker took a mild interest in what was going on, smiling appreciatively
once in a while when Bart made a witty hit or an unusually good sale.

Finally, however, Wacker put up his forefinger as Bart was bidding off a
thin wooden box about four inches square.

"Sender: Novelty Jewelry Company, no address," read Bart, "shipped to
James Barclay, Millville--not found. This is a promising-looking
package. Gentlemen, what am I bid?"

Lem Wacker seemed to have some spare cash, for he paid two dollars for
the box, swaggered off with it, and opening it disclosed a very small
and neat pocket alarm clock.

He wound it up, sent out its silvery call once or twice for the
edification of the crowd about him, hoping to sell it off to someone,
and then, there being no purchaser, with a disappointed grunt slipped it
into his pocket.

"Number 529," announced Bart a few minutes later--"the last package,
gentlemen!"

The crowd was dispersing, Darry was counting up the heap of bank notes
and coin in the cash box, Bob was gloating and wild with delight as
uncovering his purchase he brought to light a new bicycle.

The package Bart tendered was thin and flat. Two tough pieces of
cardboard held it stiff and straight. It seemed to contain papers of
some kind, and so many bidders had bought old deeds, contracts, plans,
manuscripts and the like, utterly valueless to them, that the lot hung
at twenty-five cents for several minutes.

"Come, come, gentlemen!" urged Bart--"the last may be the best. The
charges are sixty-five cents. Sender's name not given. Directed to 'A.A.
Adams, Pleasantville'--not found."

"Hoo! S--s--say!"

Bart experienced something of a shock.

The familiar cry of the ex-roustabout, Mr. Baker, rang out sharp and
sudden.

Glancing at him, Bart saw that he had arisen to his feet.

His face was bloodless and twitching, his whole frame a-quake. His eyes
were snapping wildly. He was like a man who could hardly speak or stand,
and fairly on the verge of a fit.

A