"That from you I did not expect, Mr. Mason," he said. "However, that you may have no cause for complaint, I am prepared to knock Box A down to you for fifty-five guineas, barring any advance." "Sixty," Jocelyn Thew bid. The auctioneer noted the advance with thanks. Then he looked towards the betting man, who shook his head. The auctioneer, who was rather wanting to get away, raised his hammer with an air of finality. "Going at sixty guineas, then." "Sixty-five," a new bidder intervened. The comedian, with his hammer already poised in the air, paused in some surprise. A clean-shaven man in dark grey clothes and a bowler hat, a man who had somehow the air of being a little out of his element in this galaxy of pleasure seekers, caught his eye. "Sixty-five you said, sir. Very good. Going at sixty-five." "Seventy," Jocelyn Thew bid. "Seventy-five." "Eighty." "Eighty-five." "Ninety." "Ninety-five." "One hundred guineas," Jocelyn Thew bid, turning with a good-natured smile to glance at his opponent. The auctioneer drew himself up. The contest had begun to interest him. Every one in the room was standing on tiptoe to watch. "One hundred guineas is bid by my friend in the front," he declared. "A very princely offer. Shall I knock it down at that?" One hundred and twenty was promptly bidden by the newcomer. Jocelyn Thew smiled up at the auctioneer. "Well," he said, "I've invited my party so I suppose I'll have to stick to it. I'll make it a hundred and fifty." "A hundred and sixty." "A hundred and seventy-five." "Two hundred." "Two hundred and fifty." The comedian's flow of badinage had ceased. An intense silence reigned in the marquee. He, in common with many of the others, was beginning to recognise a note of something unusual in this duel. "Two hundred and fifty guineas is a very handsome sum for the box," he said, leaning forward. "Perhaps some arrangement could be made, Mr. ----" "My name is Jocelyn Thew. The two hundred and fifty guineas bid is mine. I have the notes here ready." The auctioneer turned towards the other bidder appealingly. "I am acting under instructions," the latter said, "and I am not at liberty to make any arrangements to share the box." "In that case, the bid against you at the present moment is two hundred and fifty guineas," the auctioneer told him. "Of course, the more money we get, the better--the Red Cross can do with it--but it seems to me that the present bid is adequate. If no arrangement is possible, however, I must continue the auction." "Two hundred and seventy-five guineas." "Three hundred," Jocelyn Thew replied coolly. "One moment, Mr. Bobby." He leaned forward and whispered in the comedian's ear. The latter nodded and turned to the rival bidder. "Do you understand, sir," he enquired, "that this is strictly a cash affair? I must have notes for the amount at the conclusion of the sale."