"Give me your card,--your address. I will buy the girl, if I can, and set
her free."

He fumbled in his pocket and drew out a dirty piece of pasteboard. It
read: "R. Canter, Second Hand Furniture, 20 Second Street." And still he
stared at Stephen, as one who gazes upon a mystery. A few curious
pedestrians had stopped in front of them.

"Get her away, if you can, for God's sake," said Stephen again. And he
strode off toward the people at the auction. He was trembling. In his
eagerness to reach a place of vantage before the girl was sold, he pushed
roughly into the crowd.

But suddenly he was brought up short by the blocky body of Mr. Hopper,
who grunted with the force of the impact.

"Gosh," said that gentleman, "but you are inters'ted. They ain't begun to
sell her yet--he's waitin' for somebody. Callatin' to buy her?" asked Mr.
Hopper, with genial humor.

Stephen took a deep breath. If he knocked Mr. Hopper down, he certainly
could not buy her. And it was a relief to know that the sale had not
begun.

As for Eliphalet, he was beginning to like young Brice. He approved of
any man from Boston who was not too squeamish to take pleasure in a
little affair of this kind.

As for Stephen, Mr. Hopper brought him back to earth. He ceased