modest purse.
Now, he said to himself, the auctioneer would be on his side. The
bidding would go up and up and up, and every bid would bring just so
much more money into his pocket. Altogether he was well satisfied.

The faces of his guests showed that they at once admired and pitied
the old man. They admired his generosity and his faith in human
nature, and wished that other pawnbrokers with whom they had dealt had
been like him; they pitied him, for they knew that he would have a
rude awakening from his dream when the hammer of the auctioneer
knocked down his goods and his hopes of getting back the money he had
loaned on them.

"It is time we were going," said Dixon, at last, as his eyes fell on a
tall hall clock that stood in a corner, quietly marking the flight of
time.

"Well, then let us go," answered Teague, as he cast a dismal look at
the windows, against which the snow was still driven in volleys by the
wind that howled as loudly as ever.

It was the pawnbroker's turn to pity his visitors.

"I am afraid you will take cold going from this warm room out into the
storm," he said to Teague. "Let me lend you an overcoat. You see I
have more here than I have any use for," he added jocosely.

"Oh, I could not think of letting you lend me one!" exclaimed Teague,
blushing probably for the first time in his life.

Dixon laughed quietly as he enjoyed his friend's confusion, while the
pawnbroker looked among his stock for a coat that would fit Teague.
Presently he advanced with one which he held out with both hands, as
he said:

"Let me help you put it on."

Teague protested.

"Why, you can bring it back to-morrow when you come this way," added
Rumble.

"But how do you know I will bring it back?" said Teague. "I am a
stranger to you."

"Oh, your friend is good surety for you," replied the pawnbroker. "He
is one of my few customers who have redeemed their pledges."

A thundering blast struck the house. The wind beat at the windows as
though it meant to smash them.

The sound of the tempest persuaded Teague to accept the pawnbroker's
offer. Without another word he caught the edge of either sleeve with
his fingers and put his arms out behind, while Rumble put the overcoat
on him. His arms, however, never found the ends of its capacious
sleeves. It was almost large enough for a man of twice Teague's size.
Dixon had a fit of laughter at his friend's expense, and even the
pawnbroker could not forbear a smile