CHAPTER 18 The Auction Sale

MRS. Myles’ bitter tirade left the Brownies without a single argument.

From what she had said, they were certain nothing they could tell her ever would induce her to accept money from her brother.

Realizing that it was quite hopeless to try to change Mrs. Myles’ mind, Miss Gordon arose to leave.

The elderly lady walked with the teacher and the Brownies to the door.

“I’m sorry I let my temper flare,” she apologized. “I bear you no ill will. It’s only Sam that has me so riled. He should have known better than to think I’d take the money.”

Miss Gordon told the widow that if she should change her mind before the day of the sheriff’s sale to notify her.

“You’ll not hear from me,” Mrs. Myles said firmly.

On the road en route to their homes, the Brownies discussed the failure of their mission. All were agreed that Mrs. Myles was too stubborn ever to change her mind about accepting the money.

“I can’t understand why she dislikes her brother so intensely,” remarked Connie. “I think he’s nice.”

“She called him a thief too!” recalled Veve. “It must have been something about money that caused their first quarrel.”

Regretfully the Brownies reported to Mr. Vincent their failure to induce Mrs. Myles to accept the money.

Of course they were too tactful to tell him everything his sister had said. They were hopeful that the carpenter would disclose why he and Mrs. Myles had quarreled. He did not do so, however.

“If Minnie refuses to accept the money, then nothing can be done to help her,” he said. “At least I tried.”

The coming auction sale had been advertised on posters. Reading that all household goods were to be sold the next Saturday, the Brownies asked Miss Gordon if they might attend in a group.

“Why, yes, if the girls care to,” the Brownie leader consented. “I may buy a few things just to help out.”

“I’d like to bid in some buttons,” declared Veve. “I wonder if the match holder and cross-stitch pillow will be auctioned?”

On the day appointed for the sheriff’s sale, the six girls went early to the Myles’ home.

Cars were parked two deep in the yard and a considerable number of persons had gathered there. Nearly all of the household goods had been set out in the yard.

Veve spied Mr. Vincent in the crowd and ran over to talk to him.

“I didn’t expect to see you here!” she greeted him.

“I couldn’t stay away,” he replied. “I’ve tried to talk to Minnie, but she won’t speak to me.”

Mr. Vincent told Veve he was afraid the auction would not raise enough money to pay off the bank loan.

“Not a cent will be left for Minnie to live on,” he declared anxiously. “What will she do? Where will she go?”

Miss Gordon had come up in time to hear the remarks.

“Don’t worry about your sister,” she assured the carpenter. “After the sale is over, I expect to ask her to come to my home to live for a few weeks until she can adjust her affairs.”

Mr. Vincent gratefully thanked Miss Gordon for her generous offer.

“I only hope she accepts,” he said. “Minnie is proud.”

Soon it was time for the auction to start.

First the auctioneer put up a barrel of dishes. Only two persons made a bid, for the china was old and not very valuable.

The entire barrel sold for fifty cents!

Next the man auctioned off a bedstead and a rocker. These brought only a few dollars. A chest of drawers and a dining room table went for three and five dollars.

“This is terrible!” Mr. Vincent whispered to Miss Gordon. “I am going to bid on the next item.”

The auctioneer offered an old clock. It was shabby in appearance and the carpenter knew for a fact it never had kept accurate time.

All the same, his opening bid was five dollars.

“Five dollars!” shouted the auctioneer, his hope reviving. “Five dollars! Who will make it six?”

Before anyone could raise Mr. Vincent, Mrs. Myles stepped forward. She whispered a moment with the auctioneer.

“I am sorry,” the man then announced to the crowd. “Mrs. Myles requests that the bid not be accepted. Let’s have another. How much am I offered for this handsome old clock?”

A gasp of astonishment went over the crowd. People looked at Mr. Vincent and whispered.

“Minnie won’t even allow me to bid on any of the furniture!” he said bitterly. “Oh, it’s useless to try to help her.”

No one seemed willing to bid on the clock. Connie had brought a dollar with her. Timidly she called out: “I’ll bid fifty cents.”

“A little girl offers fifty cents,” called the auctioneer. “Who will make it a dollar?”

A woman some distance away raised her hand. Then the auctioneer tried to get the bid up to a dollar and a half. But no one would offer that much.

“Sold to Mrs. Flikinger for one dollar!” called the auctioneer.

After that several other items were sold. Only one of the articles, the cookstove, brought more than four dollars.

“This sale won’t total a hundred and fifty dollars,” Miss Gordon murmured. “Of course the house will bring something—perhaps a thousand dollars.”

Only a few items now remained to be sold. Although the Brownies had watched closely, they had not seen many things on which they cared to enter a bid.

But now the cross-stitched pillow was held up by the auctioneer.

“How much am I offered for this bit of fluff?” he asked the crowd.

Without stopping to think, Veve shouted: “A dollar!”

The money was every cent she had brought with her.

Connie tugged at her sleeve. “Dope!” she chided. “The pillow isn’t worth it. Why you could buy a chair with a dollar!”

“I don’t want a chair,” retorted Veve in a voice so loud that persons nearby heard her. “I want that pillow.”

No one else bid. The auctioneer now was hastening to be done with the sale.

“Sold to the little girl in the blue dress!” he called. “Catch!”

The auctioneer tossed the pillow directly into her arms.

“I know what I’ll do with this,” Veve declared, well pleased with her purchase. “I’ll keep it in our tree house.”

“I’d like to buy the match holder made of buttons if it is offered for sale,” Connie announced.

The Brownies paid close attention but the article in which they were so interested was not put up. Finally, the last item had been sold and the crowd began to leave.

Mrs. Myles came over to speak to Miss Gordon and the Brownies. Her face, they noticed, was streaked from tears. However, she tried to act as if she had not minded seeing her possessions sold.

“There! Everything is gone! What a relief it will be not having to keep house and dust!” she chattered.

As the Brownies could think of nothing to say in return, Mrs. Myles offered Connie a package.

“This is for all of the Brownies,” she said. “Hang it in your tree house, or wherever you like.”

Connie unwrapped the parcel. Out tumbled the match holder made of buttons.

“Just what we wanted!” Connie cried in delight.

“I always intended you should have it,” Mrs. Myles said. “Well, good-bye my dears. I probably won’t be seeing you again soon—”

The widow’s voice broke then and she could not finish.

Miss Gordon took her gently by the arm.

“Mrs. Myles, you must come home with me,” she urged. “I have a room waiting for you.”

“It isn’t right to burden you with my troubles,” the old lady protested.

“We’ll work out everything,” the teacher assured her. “Eileen, you and Jane take Mrs. Myles to my car. I’ll be along in a minute. I must speak to someone.”

Mrs. Myles gave up protesting. She allowed the two Brownies to lead her to the parked automobile.

Once the widow was out of sight, Miss Gordon sought Mr. Vincent who had remained in the crowd.

“Your sister has agreed to go to my home,” she assured him. “She’ll be well taken care of for the time being. Later we can work out something.”

The carpenter gripped the teacher’s hand gratefully.

“This old house wasn’t worth saving,” he said. “If only I could induce my sister to move in with me, all would be for the best. I’m afraid though, she’ll never have anything to do with me.”

“Why not?” demanded Veve, who had joined the group. “Is it because she thinks you are a thief?”

“Veve, hush!” commanded Connie in a shocked voice.

Miss Gordon and the other Brownies were sorry Veve had spoken so carelessly. No one had intended to mention to Mr. Vincent what his sister had said about him.

The carpenter remained silent a moment. Then he replied:

“You have a right to know the true story of what occurred so many years ago. I’ll tell you my version, and then you may decide for yourselves whether or not I am a thief or an honest man.”