He placed it face down beside the other three pictures. "Now this one," taking up the rare old print with the newspaper packed in the back, "Ain't wuth a darn, so why do you pick it out?" "But the glass is the right size and will cost me more to order, than I can get it for of you," remarked Mrs. Fabian, anxiously, while the girls held their breath. The old auctioneer heard the note of anxiety in her tone and peered over his specs to study her guileless expression. She instantly guarded herself, when she saw his look, and so he saw only a nice lady who was now picking up the fish-picture. "And this dining-room picture; how much will you take for _it_. Why not give me a job-lot price and I'll see. I may as well pack four as two in the automobile." But Mr. Van Styne had not known there was an automobile; and he was wondering now, why people with a car should come in and pick out a few picture glasses to save money. He glanced over the last picture which was the large engraving, and then turned it over to look at its back. "That's a mighty big sheet of glass in that one. That glass alone, cost about a dollar-forty. Then the frame's a good hard-wood frame, too. I'll look up my books and see who sent them pictures in for sale. Then I can see if they put a figger on them." He made notes of the chalk numbers marked on the backs of the picture-boards and then started for his office. Mrs. Fabian, with sinking heart, followed at his heels. "If he looks up his records and finds they came from the old house of Paul Revere and his descendants, he will never sell them at a decent price," thought she, impatiently. She sat opposite the old man while he fumbled the pages of his book and slowly glanced down the entries, his bent fore-finger pointing to each item carefully as he read. "Um! Here it is: Number 329, came from Sarah Dolan, who moved to a smaller flat last Spring. From this entry I see that all them seven pictures came from her. Do you happen to know her?" Mr. Van Styne glanced up at his companion. She shook her head, and he said, closing the book, "Why, Sally Dolan was cook fer the Revere boys, and when they broke up, she started a bordin' house down on Morris Street. Then she took rheumatiz and was that crippled, she couldn't get about the kitchen no more, so she gave up. Her boys manage to keep her now, and she takes things easy. But she sure was a good cook!" Much as Mrs. Fabian would have liked to question the old man about the Revere boys she feared he might remember that the cook was given a lot of old pictures when the boys "broke up", so she turned the subject adroitly. "Well, I'll go and see what the girls have found out there, I guess. But I wish you'd fix a price on those four frames." "Lem'me see, now. Sal Dolan didn't set no price, and if I say five dollars for the four, would you take 'em?"