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.

"Keep quiet!" urged Sam. "We may get it yet."

"Yes, don't make so many remarks," counseled the auctioneer. "I'm bid
a hundred and five. Will any one make it a hundred and twenty-five?"

Tom wondered why the man had not remained to see if his bid was
accepted, for no one raised it at once, but he hurried off and did not
look back. Tom took a sudden resolve.

"A hundred and twenty-five!" he called out.

"That's what I like to hear," exclaimed Mr. Wood. "Now we are doing
business. A hundred and twenty-five from Tom Swift. Will any one
offer me fifty?"

Andy and Sam seemed to be having some dispute.

"Let's make him quit right now," suggested Andy in a hoarse whisper.

"You can't," declared Sam'

"Yes, I can. I'll go up to my limit right now."

"And some one will go above you---maybe Tom will," was Sam's retort.

"I don't believe he can afford to," Andy came back with. "I'm going to
call his bluffs. I believe he's only bidding to make others think he
wants it. I don't believe he'll buy it."

Tom heard what was said, but did not reply. The auctioneer was calling
monotonously: "I'm bid a hundred and twenty-five--twenty-five. Will
any one make it fifty?"

"A hundred and fifty!" sang out Andy, and all eyes were directed toward
him.

"Sixty!" said Tom quietly.

"Here, you--" began the red-haired lad. "You--"

"That will do!" exclaimed the auctioneer sternly. "I am offered a
hundred and sixty. Now who will give me an advance? I want to get the
boat up to two hundred, and then the real bidding will begin."

Tom's heart sank. He hoped it would be some time before a two hundred
dollar offer would be heard. As for Andy Foger, he was almost
speechless with rage. He shook off the restraining arm of Sam, and,
worming his way to the front of the throng, exclaimed:

"I'll give a hundred and seventy-five dollars for that boat!"

"Good!" cried the auctioneer. "That's the way to talk. I'm offered a
hundred and seventy-five."

"Eighty," said Tom quietly, though his heart was beating fast.