Near the entrance to the tent a temporary platform had been built
of the board seats taken from the interior of the tent.

Near the platform stood a grim-visaged deputy sheriff, conversing
with an auctioneer on whose face the grin had become chronic.

Some distance from the tent stood a group of perhaps forty men
of the town of Gridley.

"The whole outfit of junk won't bring five hundred dollars," predicted
one of these men. "How much did you say the judgments total?"

"Seventeen thousand four hundred dollars," replied another. "But
the man who attached the show has a claim for only six hundred
and forty dollars, so he may get most of his money."

Here the auctioneer stopped talking with the deputy sheriff long
enough to go over to the platform, pick up a bell and ring it
vigorously. A few more stragglers came up, most of them boys
without any money in their pockets.

Off at one side of the lot six boys stood by themselves, talking
in low tones, casting frequent, earnest glances toward the platform.

These youngsters were Dick Prescott, Dave Darrin, Greg Holmes,
Tom Reade, Dan Dalzell and Harry Hazelton. Collectively they
were known in the boydom of Gridley as Dick & Co.

Our readers are already familiar with every one of these lads,