"Come along," proposed Dave in an audible voice. "There's nothing here we can get." "Yes; it's getting tedious," hinted Tom Reade. Dalzell and Hazelton also appeared to lose all interest in the auction. "I was in hopes they'd want that canoe," muttered Fred Ripley, feeling as though he had been cheated out of a great pleasure. "As it happens I know all about that canoe. Wow! Wouldn't they groan if they put up all their money for the canoe---_and then found out_!" Just then the canoe was brought out. It was bolstered up on a long truck, drawn by a pair of horses. Twenty-eight feet long, slender and of graceful lines, this canoe, with its oiled birch bark glistening in the sun, was a thing of beauty. It was one of the genuine articles that the show had carried---of real Indian model and workmanship. "Gaze upon it, gentlemen!" cried the auctioneer enthusiastically. "Did you ever see the like of this grand war canoe? History in every line of it! Picture to yourselves the bygone days in which such a canoe, filled with painted braves, stole along in the shadows fringing the bank of some noble stream. Portray to your own minds such a marauding band stealing down stream upon some settlement, there to fall upon our hardy pioneers and put them to the death!" "I'm glad I'm living now, instead of in those days," called a man from the crowd, raising a laugh. "Gentlemen, before you are through," suggested the auctioneer, "one of you will be the proud and happy possessor of this magnificent war canoe. It is a priceless gem, especially when considered in the light of good old American history. Now, who will start the bidding? Who will say, clearly and distinctly, thirty dollars?" "We're not brave enough in these days!" called a voice from the crowd. "That's right, friends---have fun with me," retorted the perspiring auctioneer. "But don't let this valuable, beautiful trophy get away from you." Yet, though the auctioneer labored for a full five minutes he couldn't raise a bid. "Take it away! Take it back!" ordered the auctioneer wearily. "I was in hopes it would appeal to the artistic sense of this town, but it doesn't! Take it away." "If no one else wants it," drawled Dick Prescott, "I'll offer two dollars." "Thank you for good intentions, anyway," replied the salesman on the platform. "Two dollars I'm bid. Who says ten? Now, do wake up, friends!" But the bidding lagged. "This beautiful war canoe!" cried the auctioneer desperately. "It was the pride of the show. A real Indian canoe, equipped with gunwale seats and six Indian paddles. And only two dollars offered. Gentlemen, do I hear three? No! Last call! It's pitiful---two dollars!" Dick Prescott and all his friends were now in the seventh heaven of prospective delight. It seemed unreal, that they could get this treasure for any such sum.