Again Mrs. Fabian thanked her interested informer, and left the library. The girls were told of the conversation and they all voted to go to Van Styne's old auction rooms first, and then try to locate an old farm-house along the road to Mendham, or in the opposite direction, towards Baskingridge. The building where "Van Styne--Auctioneer and Appraiser" had his sign displayed, for the public's guidance, was a long low place that had been used as the carriage house of "Liberty Stable" years before. The tiny windows, high up in a row along the front, were stall-marks that told what it had been in the past. Now it was an "Emporium" for all who needed second-hand furniture at a bargain; or for those who sought antiques of any kind, to add to their amateur collections. Mr. Van Styne was a white-haired, long-whiskered, thin man who sat tilted back in a broken-through rush-bottom chair that had never had a bid at his weekly auctions, hence it was put to some use in his office to pay for storage. His feet were resting on the flat-table-desk in front of him, and he was sweetly snoring when the girls opened the door of the room. Such an unheard of thing as customers in the early part of the afternoon, caused him to jump up and remove his aged straw hat that had been tilted over his eyes to keep out the sun-light. "We came to see if we could find anything in your salesroom," began Mrs. Fabian, noting the dust that lay thick on everything, and the heaped up motley collection of family possessions displayed in the long adjoining stable-room. "What kind of furniture do you need?" asked he, stifling a yawn. "Why, anything old enough to be interesting. We heard that you were a wizard in finding antiques for people." The proprietor disclaimed such power, and said with a grin that displayed several gaps in his yellowed teeth, "You can mosey about, out there, to your heart's content. If you find anything likely, call me an' I'll tell you what it's wuth." He waved his arm to the long stacked-up storeroom, and then sat down again. In another moment his feet were up on the desk and his hat tipped down over his eyes. His hands were calmly folded over his waist-coat and he settled down to snooze, once more. The girls giggled aloud and hurried after Mrs. Fabian to keep from laughing outright at the ambitious salesman. They prowled about and pulled out lots of things and examined many other old articles, soiling their gloves and dresses, without finding a thing that was of any value. Finally Polly dragged out an old walnut chest of drawers to see what was stored back of it, that kept it so far away from the wall. She discovered a group of large, framed pictures standing against the wall, evidently forgotten by the auctioneer, as they were covered with a thick coating of dust. "Come and help me lift these out, will you, Nolla?" called Polly, as Eleanor stood waiting for something new to look at.