The proceedings of the afternoon had but emphasized the old idea that at an auction sale one must either use great judgment or take his chances.
"Say," called Dick, "there goes the very man we ought to ask for advice.

Harry, will you run over and ask Hiram Driggs to come here ?" Hazelton, nodding, hurried away at full speed.

"Hiram Driggs is an awfully high-priced man," sighed Tom Reade.
"Perhaps his mere advice won't come high," young Prescott answered.
"If it does, we'll begin right by telling him that we have no money---that we've nothing in fact but a birchbark white elephant on our hands." Driggs came over promptly, his keen, shrewd eyes twinkling.
"So you boys have been buying away from my shop, and have been 'stung,' eh!" queried Driggs, a short, rather stout man, of about forty.
"Robbed, I'd call it," replied Dave Darrin.
"Same thing, at a horse trade or an auction sale," hinted Hiram dryly as he got up on the truck.

"Let's have a look at your steam yacht." For a few moments Driggs looked the canoe over in grim silence.
"Whew!" was time final comment.
"Pretty bad, isn't it ?" Dick inquired.
"Well, for my part, I'd sooner buy a real wreck," Driggs announced.
"This may be an auctioneer's idea of honor.

What was his name ?" "The auctioneer's name?
Caswell," Dick answered.
"I'll make a note of that name," said Driggs, drawing out notebook and pencil, "and keep away from any auction that has a man named Caswell on the quarter-deck.