attention as I walked along a street near the depot. The
auctioneer was offering a "solid gold, Swiss movement, eighteen jeweled
watch" to the highest bidder. "This watch belongs to my friend Joe
Coupling," he said, "a brakeman on the B. & O. He was in a wreck and
is now in the hospital. Everybody knows that one of the best things a
railroader has is his watch. He only parts with it as a matter of life
and death. Joe has got to sell his watch and somebody is going to get
a bargain. This watch cost eighty-five dollars and you couldn't buy the
like of it to-day for one hundred. How much am I offered?" Some one bid
five dollars, and the bidding continued until it was up to twenty-five
dollars. At that price the watch was declared sold, and I strolled on,
thinking the matter over. I figured that the story of Joe the injured
brakeman must be false. If he had an eighty-five-dollar watch he could
borrow forty on it. Why should his "friend" have sold it outright for
twenty-five? The fakery of it was plain to any one who stopped to think.
Who then would be fool enough to pay twenty-five dollars for a fake
watch at a side auction? Not I. I was too wise. "How easy it is," I said
to myself, "to solve a skin game."

The next day I happened to pass the place again and they were selling
the same watch. I listened for the second time to the sad story of
Joe the brakeman. He was still in the hospital and still willing to
sacrifice his eighty-five-dollar gold watch to the highest bidder. Just
for fun I started off the bidding at two dollars. The auctioneer at once
knocked down the watch to me and took my money. The speed of it dazed
me, and I stumbled along the street like a fool. What was the game? I
held the glittering watch in my hand and gazed at it like a hypnotized
bird. I came to another pawnshop and went in. "What will you give me on
this watch?" I asked. The pawnbroker glanced at it and said he couldn't
give me anything but advice.

"I can buy these watches for three dollars a dozen. They are made to be
sold at auction. The case is not gold and the works won't run."

I had been caught in the game after all. The whole show had been put on
for me. The men who did the bidding the first day were "with the show."
Their scheme was to get a real bid from me. When I failed to bite, they
rung down the curtain and waited for the next come-on. The show was
staged again for me the following day, and that time they got me. I had
the "brak