“Small amounts thankfully received,” said Mr. Wood with a laugh.  Then the bidding became lively, a number making one-dollar advances.

The price got up to one hundred and ninety-five dollars and there it hung for several minutes, despite the eloquence of Mr. Wood, who tried by all his persuasive powers to get a substantial advance.  But every one seemed afraid to bid.  As for the young inventor, he was in a quandary.  He could only offer five dollars more, and, if he bid it in a lump, some one might go to two hundred and five, and he would not get the boat.  He wished he had secured permission from his father to go higher, yet he knew that as a fair proposition two hundred dollars was about all the motor-boat in its present condition was worth, at least to him.  Then he made a sudden resolve.  He thought he might as well have the suspense over.

“Two hundred dollars!” he called boldly.

“I’m offered two hundred!” repeated Mr. Wood.  “That is something like it.  Now who will raise that?”

There was a moment of silence.  Then the auctioneer swung into an enthusiastic description of the boat.  He begged for an advance, but none was made, though Tom’s heart seemed in his throat, so afraid was he that he would not get the Carlopa.

“Two hundred—­two hundred!” droned on Mr. Wood.  “I am offered two hundred.  Will any of you go any higher?” He paused a moment, and Tom’s heart beat harder than ever.  “If not,” resumed the speaker, “I will declare the bidding closed.  Are you all done?  Once—­twice—­three times.  Two hundred dollars.  Going—­going—­gone!” He clapped his hands.  “The boat is sold to Thomas Swift for two hundred dollars.  If he’ll step up I’ll take his money.”

There was a laugh as Tom, blushingly, advanced.  He passed Andy Foger, who had worked his way over near him.

“You got the boat,” sneered the bully, “and I s’pose you think you got ahead of me.”

“Keep quiet!” begged Sam.

“I won’t!” exclaimed Andy.  “He outbid me just out of spite, and I’ll get even with him.  You see if I don’t!”

Tom looked Andy Foger straight in the eyes, but did not answer, and the red-haired youth turned aside, followed by his crony, and started toward his automobile.

“I congratulate you on your bargain,” said Mr. Wood as Tom proceeded to make out a check.  He gave little thought to the threat Andy Foger had made, but the time was coming when he was to remember it well.

CHAPTER III

A TIMELY WARNING

“Well, are you satisfied with your bargain, Tom?” asked Mr. Wood when the formalities about transferring the ownership of the motor-boat had been completed.

“Oh, yes, I calculated to pay just what I did.”

“I’m glad you’re satisfied, for Mr. Hastings told me to be sure the purchaser was satisfied.  Here he comes now.  I guess he wasn’t at the auction.”