"How much am I offered, gentlemen," persisted the man behind the glass counter. "How much am I offered?" There was no response. He passed the timepiece to a man in the front row and requested that he examine it carefully. "Isn't it a beauty?" He raised the watch in the air again. "Now, will some one please bid?" "Eighty-five cents," called John. Subdued laughter arose as the auctioneer bowed elaborately. "I thank you. This gentleman knows a good thing when he sees it. Eighty-five, eighty-five, a dollar and a half, a dollar and a half, two dollars, two dollars, two dollars--" The boy lost interest in the proceedings. What was the use of wishing that you might give such a trinket to your lady love if you hadn't the money to pay for it? There were books, but Louise was not over fond of reading; ash trays, atrocious Japanese vases with wart-like protuberances on their sides, and cut-glass dishes--each in its turn went to some fortunate, or unfortunate, who outbid John's modest offer. At last the auctioneer rummaged among the conglomeration of articles on the counter below him and brought forth a little china dish. "I have here," he began, "a hand-painted china vanity box. Think of it, gentlemen, these dainty violets are hand painted, and the top is solid gold-filled. Inside is a soft, dainty, powder puff. How much am I offered for this beautiful trinket. An ideal gift for wife, sister, or sweetheart. How much am I offered?" A man in a far corner of the room bid a quarter. The auctioneer looked pained. "Only a quarter bid? Gentlemen, it's a shame. The time taken to decorate it was worth more than that. Only a quarter bid? That gentleman must be married. Is that all he thinks of his wife?" The gathering tittered derisively. Came a bid of forty cents as a reward for his efforts. "Forty cents," the droning voice went on. "Forty cents--forty--forty, fifty cents, I thank you--fifty cents, fifty cents, fifty-five, fifty-five, going at fifty-five, fifty-five, better than nothing, fifty-five--" "EIGHTY-FIVE!" shouted John. "Sold," concluded the auctioneer. "Sold to our friend here at eighty-five cents. Will the lucky purchaser step up to the cashier?" With the precious package safely in his pocket, the boy darted for the car line. Another hour had elapsed, and he dreaded the "penny lecture" which must be awaiting him on his arrival. But inside the street car, though the air was stifling, and large, heedless grown-ups crushed him with each jolt of the uneven roadbed, his spirits rose buoyantly. His holiday shopping was concluded. Christmas was less than a week away, and he had a vision of a beautifully hand-painted vanity box with a glistening solid gold-filled top greeting him from Louise's chiffonier when his thousand dollars had been achieved and the age of twenty-one reached which allowed him the independence of marriage. CHAPTER XI HE HAS A VERY HAPPY CHRISTMAS