He was looking at Jack, whose face was as red as Eloise’s was pale.

“If the thing must be sold at auction it shall bring a good price, and I’ll get it, too,” he thought.

Standing close to him was Tom Walker, who all the evening had hovered near Eloise.

“Tom,” Jack said.  “I have a sister, you know.”

Tom didn’t know, but he nodded, and Jack went on:  “That apron is the only thing I’ve seen that I really want for her.  I am not worth a cent to bid.  Will you do it for me?”

Tom nodded again, and Jack continued, “Well, start pretty high.  Keep your eyes on me, and when I look at you raise the bid if there is any against you.  Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Tom answered, understanding more than Jack thought he did.

He guessed whose apron it was and did not believe much in the sister, but he had his instructions and waited for the signal.  Howard had watched the sale of the spotted gown with a great deal of amusement, but was beginning to feel tired with standing so long, and was wondering when Jack proposed taking Eloise home.  That he would go with them was a matter of course, and he was about to speak to Jack when Tim came in and the apron sale began.  He had no idea whose it was until he saw the halt in Mr. Bills’s manner, and looked at Eloise.  Then he knew, and knew, too, that nothing could get Jack away till the apron was disposed of.  That Jack would buy it he did not for a moment dream, for what could he do with it?  “But yes, he is going to buy it,” he thought, as he heard Jack’s instructions to Tom, “and I mean to have some fun with him, and run that apron up.”

Close to him was Tim, and the sight of him put an idea into Howard’s mind.  It would be jolly for Tom and Tim to bid against each other, while he and Jack backed them.

“Tim,” he said, laying his hand on the boy’s arm, “I am going to buy that apron for Mrs. Amy, and I want you to bid for me against Tom Walker and everybody.  I have no idea what it is worth, but when I squeeze your arm so, bid higher!”

He gave Tim’s arm a clutch so tight that the boy started away from him, saying, “Great Peter, don’t pinch like that!  You hurt! ’cause I’m in my shirt sleeves.”

“All right.  I’ll be more careful,” Howard said.  “Now begin, before Tom has time to open the ball.”

“Yes, but-er, what-er shall I bid?” Tim stammered.

“How do I know?  It’s Miss Smith’s, and on that account valuable.  Go in with a dollar.”

All this time Mr. Bills had been talking himself hoarse over the merits of the apron, while his audience were watching Howard and Jack, with a feeling of certainty that they were intending to bid, but they were not prepared for Tim’s one dollar, which startled every one and none more so than his mother, who, having rolled up her spotted gown “in a wopse,” as she said, and put it with her dish pan and towels, had come back in time to hear Tim’s astonishing bid.  She could not see him for the crowd in front of her, but she could make him hear, and her voice was shrill and decided as she called out, “Timothy Biggs!  Be you crazy? and where are you to get your dollar, I’d like to know!”