"I have not been in it long enough to tell, for I have not had an auction," replied Rumble. "In one respect, however, I have been disappointed. Very few articles on which I have loaned money have been redeemed. I don't understand it." "Perhaps you are too liberal with your customers," said Dixon. "You would not have me be mean with them, would you?" answered Rumble. "Why, you know they must be in very straitened circumstances to come to me. If I took advantage of people's poverty, I would expect that after their death all the old women who have pawned their shawls with me would send their ghosts back to haunt me." "Well, I never thought of that," murmured Dixon. "If their ghosts do come back what very lively times some pawnbrokers must have!" "But if your customers do not redeem their goods, how do you expect to get your money back?" asked Teague. "From auctions," replied the pawnbroker. "Oh!" was Teague's response. "You should have a good auctioneer," said Dixon. "The goods will bring a fair return," replied Rumble quietly. Although it was apparent that the pawnbroker had begun to mistrust his methods of doing business, it was also evident that he had great faith in auctions. He had attended auctions in his time and had bid on articles, only to see them go beyond the length of his modest purse. Now, he said to himself, the auctioneer would be on his side. The bidding would go up and up and up, and every bid would bring just so much more money into his pocket. Altogether he was well satisfied. The faces of his guests showed that they at once admired and pitied the old man. They admired his generosity and his faith in human nature, and wished that other pawnbrokers with whom they had dealt had been like him; they pitied him, for they knew that he would have a rude awakening from his dream when the hammer of the auctioneer knocked down his goods and his hopes of getting back the money he had loaned on them. "It is time we were going," said Dixon, at last, as his eyes fell on a tall hall clock that stood in a corner, quietly marking the flight of time. "Well, then let us go," answered Teague, as he cast a dismal look at the windows, against which the snow was still driven in volleys by the wind that howled as loudly as ever. It was the pawnbroker's turn to pity his visitors. "I am afraid you will take cold going from this warm room out into the storm," he said to Teague. "Let me lend you an overcoat. You see I have more here than I have any use for," he added jocosely. "Oh, I could not think of letting you lend me one!" exclaimed Teague, blushing probably for the first time in his life. Dixon laughed quietly as he enjoyed his friend's confusion, while the pawnbroker looked among his stock for a coat that would fit Teague. Presently he advanced with one which he held out with both hands, as he said: "Let me help you put it on." Teague protested. "Why, you can bring it back to-morrow when you come this way," added Rumble.