The High School Boys Canoe Club | Page 9

Mr. Dodge gravely. "What else?"
"That's the only representation that I did make," broke in the auctioneer, who had strolled slowly over to them. "I also said that the pony showed all of his good points."
"I'm afraid you'll have to swallow your loss, Fred," suggested the banker. "I'm sorry that I had even an innocent part in this trade."
"Trade?" screamed Fred, now losing all control of himself. "It wasn't a trade at all! It's piracy! It's highway robbery! It was a barefaced swindle, and this swindler"
Fred glared at the auctioneer.
"Go slowly, young man," advised the salesman of the afternoon.
"You're a swindler, and a mean one, taking downright advantage of other folks," stormed young Ripley. "But you won't get away with this swindle. My father is a lawyer---the best lawyer in the place---and he'll give you good reason to shiver!"
"All right, young man. Send your father after me---if he'll take the case. But I'm going down to see him, anyway, for I must give him an accounting of the money taken in this afternoon. Come along, Edson," to his clerk.
Very red in the face, Fred Ripley stood with his fists clenched, trying to avoid the eyes of the many grinning men and boys gathered around him.
Dick & Co. had gotten down from the truck. They did not join in the fun-making at the enemy's expense, though naturally they did not feel very sorry for young Ripley.
"Will you ride your pony home, sir?" asked the man who had done the saddling.
"No," said Fred shortly. He felt tempted to tell the man to lead the worthless animal away and shoot it. Then he changed his mind.
"Take this half dollar," he said, "and take the pony down and leave it in our stable."
For another thought had just occurred to Fred Ripley. If he kept a close mouth, and watched his chance, he hoped that he might yet be able to make some sort of "trade" with the pony as an asset.
CHAPTER III
BUYING FUEL FOR A BONFIRE?
"Well, what are we going to do with our magnificent war canoe?" asked Greg Holmes dolefully. "Does the bonfire idea go?"
"It doesn't," Dick retorted. "Although we don't know anything about such a job, and though it is supposed to need a sure enough expert to do it, we're at least going to try the thing out and see if we can't make this canoe float, and carry us safely, at that!"
"We'd better decide how to get it away from here, anyway," proposed Tom Reade. "We haven't any lease of this lot."
Over near the road a group of men and boys were laughing heartily. It was at the lawyer's son that their mirth was directed. As for Dick & Co., the Gridley crowd felt only sympathy. The proceedings of the afternoon had but emphasized the old idea that at an auction sale one must either use great judgment or take his chances.
"Say," called Dick, "there goes the very man we ought to ask for advice. Harry, will you run over and ask Hiram Driggs to come here?"
Hazelton, nodding, hurried away at full speed. "Hiram Driggs is an awfully high-priced man," sighed Tom Reade.
"Perhaps his mere advice won't come high," young Prescott answered. "If it does, we'll begin right by telling him that we have no money---that we've nothing in fact but a birchbark white elephant on our hands."
Driggs came over promptly, his keen, shrewd eyes twinkling.
"So you boys have been buying away from my shop, and have been 'stung,' eh!" queried Driggs, a short, rather stout man, of about forty.
"Robbed, I'd call it," replied Dave Darrin.
"Same thing, at a horse trade or an auction sale," hinted Hiram dryly as he got up on the truck. "Let's have a look at your steam yacht."
For a few moments Driggs looked the canoe over in grim silence.
"Whew!" was time final comment.
"Pretty bad, isn't it?" Dick inquired.
"Well, for my part, I'd sooner buy a real wreck," Driggs announced. "This may be an auctioneer's idea of honor. What was his name?"
"The auctioneer's name? Caswell," Dick answered.
"I'll make a note of that name," said Driggs, drawing out notebook and pencil, "and keep away from any auction that has a man named Caswell on the quarter-deck. Now, boys, what do you want to know about this canoe that your eyes don't tell you?"
"About how much would it cost us to fix her?" asked Prescott.
"Thirty dollars---maybe thirty-two," said Driggs, after another casual look at the canoe.
"Let's announce the bonfire for to-night," urged Greg.
"We haven't any such sum of money, Mr. Driggs," Dick went on.
"Too bad, boys, for you'd probably have a lot of fun in this craft. If you want to sell it, maybe I could allow you four dollars for the craft as she stands."
"We'd hate to part with the canoe," Dick continued.
"I know, I know," remarked Driggs