tted familiarly with a
gentleman who stood near him. The only one in the crowd whom he had
impressed with the fact that the honor of the city was at stake in
this sale was Erik Carstens. He had happily discovered a young and rich
lieutenant of his father's company, and was trying to persuade him to
bid in the mare for him.

"But, my dear boy," Lieutenant Thicker exclaimed, "what do you suppose
the captain will say to me if I aid and abet his son in defying the
paternal authority?"

"Oh, you needn't bother about that," Erik rejoined eagerly. "If father
was at home, I believe he would allow me to buy this mare. But I am a
minor yet, and the auctioneer would not accept my bid. Therefore I
thought you might be kind enough to bid for me."

The lieutenant made no answer, but looked at the earnest face of the boy
with unmistakable sympathy. The auctioneer assumed again an insulted,
affronted, pathetically entreating or scornfully repelling tone,
according as it suited his purpose; and the price of Lady Clare crawled
slowly and reluctantly up from fifty to seventy dollars. There it
stopped, and neither the auctioneer's tears nor his prayers could
apparently coax it higher.

"Seventy dollars!" he cried, as if he were really too shocked to speak
at all; "seven-ty dollars! Make it eighty! Oh, it is a sin and a shame,
gentlemen, and the fair fame of this beautiful city is eternally ruined.
It will become a wagging of the head and a byword among the
nations. Sev-en-ty dollars!"--then hotly and indignantly--"seventy
dollars!--fifth and last time, seventy dollars!"--here he raised his
hammer threateningly--"seventy dollars!"

"One hundred!" cried a high boyish voice, and in an instant every
neck was craned and every eye was turned toward the corner where Erik
Carstens was standing, half hidden behind the broad figure of Lieutenant
Thicker.

"Did I hear a hundred?" repeated the auctioneer, wonderingly. "May I ask
who was the gentleman who said a hundred?"

An embarrassing silence followed. Erik knew that if he acknowledged the
bid he would suffer the shame of having it refused. But his excitement
and his solicitude for the fair fame of his native city had carried him
away so completely that the words had escaped from his lips before he
was fully aware of their import.

"May I ask," repeated the wielder of the hammer, slowly and
emphatically, "may I ask the gentleman who offered one hundred dollars
for Lady Clare to come forw