"Say!" he whispered back. "What's the big idea? This is an auction house; not a hop joint!" "I know! I know!" came in an excited whisper from the slender, nervous-eyed man. "But listen to me!" One more prod in the ribs. "You'll remember it the longest day you live! You _bid_ on that next package! And _get_ it! Take it away from 'em, see? Take it away! Me? I'm broke," the stranger went on hurriedly. "But I got a hunch. An' my hunches, they're open and shut, open and shut. Just like that! So you bid! See?" The package in question seemed about as uninteresting as it well could be--a, plain corrugated box tied round with a stout hempen cord. There were scores quite like it. Some were larger, some thinner, some thicker. Johnny had seen many such packages opened. "Broken bits of statuary," he thought to himself, "or old clothes, like as not, or jars of cheap cosmetics. What do I want of that package?" But the stranger was insisting. "Bid! Bid! See, I got a hunch!" "Bid?" Johnny grumbled in a whisper. "What for?" The auction room was warm. He guessed he must have fallen asleep. Always after a nap he felt cross. He wouldn't bid on the silly package. What if this fellow did have a hunch? He had a mind to tell him so. Strange to say, when the package went up, he did bid. "One dollar! Two! Three dollars!" And he had it. He turned about to look into the slim stranger's face; wanted to see how he felt about it. To his surprise he found the seat empty. "That's queer!" he thought with a start. "Perhaps I dreamed the whole thing!... No, not all of it," he amended ten seconds later. "Here comes the collector after my deposit. I've got a good mind to tell him I didn't buy the package." This notion too he abandoned. Digging into his watch-pocket, he dragged forth a crumpled dollar bill. "O.K., Buddie, you get your package after the auction." The collector went his way. Johnny had not meant to stay the auction through. Now he must, or forfeit his dollar. He debated this problem and decided to stay. The package did not interest him overmuch, but his money was up. He would have a look. Losing all interest in the auction, he spent his time thinking through his unusual adventures of the night before. Closing his eyes, he seemed to see again that frightful wavering skeleton which in time he came to believe was his own. Two other skeletons he saw, one with a long-bladed knife wavering in its hand. "I saw them later on the streets, those men," he told himself, "only they were all dressed up in flesh and had their skins on--clothes too. It's a queer business! Eyes staring at a fellow from the wall!" He shuddered. "Fairly gives you the creeps! Wonder why I agreed to join up with such an outfit as that old professor and his children."