you have seen, eh, Hashmi?"

"Of a surely, yes. They are beautiful!"

"And so cheap; are they not, Hashmi?"

"Of a surely, yes."

"Where are you taking us, anyhow?" demanded Thad. "I thought we were
going to Burke's."

"So we are, later," said Dunk. "I want to see some of this junk, though.
Our room does need a bit of decoration, eh, Andy?"

"Yes, it can stand a few more things."

"But where are we going, anyhow?" Bob demanded. "This looks like a
chop-suey joint."

"Hush!" cautioned Ikey again. "Some of the fellows may be around. There
is a Chinese restaurant upstairs."

"And what's downstairs?" asked Andy.

"Why, Hashmi had to hire a vacant room to put the packing box in when it
came from Japan," explained Ikey. "It was too big to take up to his
joint. Besides, it's filled with straw, you know, so the vawses couldn't
smash. He's just got it in this vacant store temporarily. You fellows
have the first whack at it."

"Well, let's get the whacking over with," suggested Andy. "I had all I
wanted at Yale Field this afternoon."

They came to a low, dingy building, at the side of which ran a black
alley.

"In here--mind your steps!" warned Ikey.

They stumbled on, and then came to a halt behind the college salesman.
He shot out a gleam of radiance from a pocket electric flashlight and
opened a door.

"Hurry up!" he whispered, and as the others slipped in he closed and
locked the portal. "Are the shades down, Hashmi?" he asked.

"Of a surely, yes."

"Then show the fellows what your ancestors sent you."

There was the removal of boards from a big packing case that stood in
the middle of a bare room. There was the rustle of straw, and then, in
the gleam of the little electric flash the boys saw a confused jumble of
Japanese vases and other articles in porcelain, packed in the box.

"There, how's that?" demanded Ikey, triumphantly, as he picked one up.
"Wouldn't that look swell on your mantel, Dunk?"

"It might do to hold my tobacco."

"Tobacco! You heathen! Why, that jar is to hold the ashes of your
ancestors!"

"Haven't any ancestors that had ashes as far as I know," said Dunk,
imperturbably. "I can smoke enough cigar ashes to fill it, though."

"Hopeless--hopeless," murmured Ikey. "But look--such a bargain, only
seven dollars!"

"Holy mackerel!" cried Andy. "Seven dollars for a tobacco jar!"

"It isn't a tobacco jar, I tell you!" cried Ikey. "It's like the old
Egyptian tear vawses, only differ