there, but his face was clean-shaven. He looked around nervously
as he spoke.

"Ninety!" called out the auctioneer.

"Ninety-five!" returned Tom. Andy Foger scowled at him, but the
young inventor only smiled. It was evident that the bully did not
relish being bid against. He and his crony whispered together
again.

"One hundred!" called Andy, as if no one would dare go above that.

"I'm offered an even hundred," resumed Mr. Wood. "We are
certainly coming on. A hundred I am bid, a hundred--a hundred--a
hundred--"

"And five," said the strange man hastily, and he seemed to choke
as he uttered the words.

"Oh, come now; we ought to have at least ten-dollar bids from now
on," suggested Mr. Wood. "Won't you make it a hundred and ten?"
The auctioneer looked directly at the man, who seemed to shrink
back into the crowd. He shook his head, cast a sort of despairing
look at the boat and hurried away.

"That's queer," murmured Tom. "I guess that was his limit, yet if
he wanted the boat badly that wasn't a high price."

"Who's going ahead of me?" demanded Andy in loud tones.