"Twenty-two? Thank you," bowed the auctioneer. "Another young
gentleman of the finest judgment. Who says twenty-five?"

"Twenty-three," offered Fred.

"Twenty-five," called Prescott promptly.

An instant after Dick had made this bid he felt heartily ashamed
of himself. He hadn't intended to buy the pony, and didn't have
the money. He had obeyed a sudden instinct to tease Fred Ripley,
but now Dick wished he hadn't done it.

"Twenty-six!" called young Ripley.

The auctioneer looked at Prescott, but the latter, already abashed
at his own conduct, made no further offer.

"Twenty-eight!" called a man in the crowd, who knew that the wealthy
lawyer's son usually got whatever he wanted very badly. This
new bidder thought he saw a chance to get the pony, then later
to force Fred to pay a still higher price for the animal.

"Thirty!" called Ripley, with a sidelong glance at Dick & Co.

"Did I hear you offer thirty-five?" queried the auctioneer, singling
out Dick Prescott.

But Dick remained mute. However, in the next instant Greg Holmes,
ere Prescott could stop him, blurted out with: