LOT NINETEEN.

Otago Witness, Issue 3168, 2 December 1914, Page 82

LOT NINETEEN.

By -Gladys E. Hartley.

= (Copyright.) “ You quite understand which lot I mean; lot No. 191” “ Yes, yes, I understand beyond a doubt; but I don’t like doing it, sir, I assure you.” , , “ Tut, tut, man, don t be a tool. You’ve done the same thing scores o times before, I’ll swear, only the lots in question didn’t happen to be worth so much.” . . ~, “That’s true. Well, I will risk it! “ Risk it! Why, bless the man, there s. no risk. You’ve” only not to be aware of the fact that there is any special value attached to Lot 19. And for this, mind you, I pay you £IOO more than your commission would amount to if the Mauritius were sold for 'a big figure.” “ Verv well, then, let it be understood and no more said. The lot will probably letch less than £5,” said the auctioneer. The two men passed out of the room, and as their footsteps died away on the carpetless stairs a figure rose out of the big arm chair well hidden by piles of crockery, carpets, rugs, and rolls of oilcloth put ready for the commencement of the next day’s sale. “So that’s your little game is it, you miserable money-grubber,” Mark Hewlett muttered to himself, as he glanced cautiously round; and then he also made his exit, but by another way, not desiring to meet the two men of whom he was thinking. With the ease of long usage he made his way to the far end of the long garden, and there beneath the big mulberry tree he smoked and planned how to outwit them. * It was not a big house, only an oldfashibned ten-roomed villa, and the contents of this was the only property that old Airs Hargrave could leave to her greatniece, and Alark did not see why Blanche Hargrave should he cheated out of what was her just due; there would be little enough when all expenses were settled. Long he pondered over it, hut at last his plans were matured. Walking into Croydon, he was soon in the public library, pouring over a Kelly’s Directory, from which he obtained the names and addresses of the principal postage stamp dealers all over the country. These he copied out, and then he made his way to the head post office. After some little thought he sent off the following wire in duplicate to each of the addresses on his list! “ Genuine pair penny and twopenny Mauritius, an original envelope included In lot 19, Arnolds’s sale, Croydon, tomorrow . —H argr ave. ” He then gave his attention to another matter. Asking for press forms, he, after some thought, evolved the following paragraph : “We learn on the best authbrity that a genuine pair of the scarce Id and 2d Mauritius stamps—two of the rarest specimens sought by collectors—on the original envelope as sent by husband to wife are to be nut up to auction to-morrow (Wednesday) as part of lot 19 of the effects of the late Mrs Hargrave, whose husband was for some time connected with the harbour works at Mauritius; from which he, of _ course, frequently wrote to his wife, using on his letters several of the stamps in question. “ The other letters have unfortunately been lost, but this particular envelope ha's been preserved in its entirety, and bears the deceased lady’s name and address. ‘ ‘lt should prove a matter of great interest to philatelists all over the country, and bidding should be keen for so great a rarity, and reach high figures. Probably most of the large philatelic firms will be represented.” This paragraph he signed in his' own name, and despatched to three of the leading evening papers, for which ho had occasionally worked, and he felt pretty sure of its being inserted; his only anxiety was lest Morgan Winthorpe, the man who was bribing the auctioneer, should see the paragraph and be put on his guard. His wires safely handed in, Mark went off to lunch, and afterwards he had a short interview with Blanche Hargrave, to whom he was engaged with the strong approval of the old lady now deceased, who had been glad to feel that she left Blanche in such good hands. He was only a struggling solicitor, and he could nob offer the girl so good a home as she had been accustomed to, and so for a long time he had refrained from speaking till one day old Airs Hargrave had told him just how she was circumstanced, and -asked him to draw up her will. Then, and only then, did he lay his desires before her, for, believing Blanche to he somewhat of an heiress, he had felt that he could not ask her to marry so poor a man. Old Airs Hargrave had strongly favoured his suit, for she liked the strong, manly young fellow, and so it fell out that he was now engaged to Blanche Hargrave, with every prospect of an early marriage, owing to the old lady’s express "wish, for Blanche was an orphan, and had no other relatives and few friends. When Blanche heard his story she was justly indignant, for the man who would have thus cheated her with the connivance of the auctioneer was Alorgan Winthorpe, Airs Hargraves’s next of kin on her late husband’s side, to whom the bulk of her property must of necessity pass, a coarse and purse-proud man who despised Blanche. That evening Alark called at the house of Morgan Winthorpe, ostensibly on some matters regarding the late Airs Hargraves s estate, in reality to keep an eye on his movements and to prevent him if possible from seeing the evening paper. Afterwards they frent to Alark’s club, where

they played billiards till quite late and then Winthorpe went home in high good humour, for he had won nearly every game, and some 30s into the bargain, and he loved money above all things. Mark also was in a good humour, for ne felt sure that Winthorpe could not now do any harm to his scheme, even should he chance on the paragraph, which was doubtful at that late hour; nevertheless, he spent a very restless night, for he had all of an honest man’s desire to see this crooked scheme frustrated. The sale next day did not commence till “twelve o’clock precisely,” according to the bills, and the morning seemed very long to Mark. At the appointed time he took Blanche to the house that had for so long been her home, and she was accommodated with a chair at the table on which the auctioneer had his seat. Mark stood just behind her. A fair number of people were gathered for the commencement of the sale, though Mark recognised a goodly number ot brokers among the number. Most of the other faces were strange to him, though Morgan Winthorpe was chatting to the auctioneer. The sale began. The first dozen lots were soon sold for quite nominal sums, and soon Lot 18 was reached. Mark felt his heart quicken its beat when Lot 19 was handed up for inspection—a rather shabby scrap album three parts full of a collection of stamps, good, bad, and indifferent, some stuck in and some loose or on wrappers. " Lob 19 is a good collection of old English and foreign postage stamps in album,” read the auctioneer. “ Now what shall we say for this lot—shall we say fifty shillings? I have fifty shillings; any advance on fifty shillings?” Mark’s heart beat fast as he glanced round anxiously. Had airy of the dealers responded to his wires or the newspaper paragraphs? He had bought them all that morning to make sure that the paragraph had been inserted. “Three pounds,” said a voice in the room. “Three pounds—l have three pounds; any advance on three pounds?” " Mark’s mind was made up. He would risk it for Blanche’s sake. “ Fifty pounds,” said Mark, as quietly as he could. There was an immediate stir in the room, and necks craned forward over the long table to look at him. The auctioneer glanced at him sharply, a little startled. “ Did I hear you aright, Mr Hewlett?” he said. “You said fifty pounds, 1 think?” “Quite right!” said Mark. Was it hys fancy or did the broker who had made the second bid glance at Winthorpe, and did he give the very faintest nod in return, or was it fancy? Bidding recommenced. “ I have a bid of fifty pounds, ladies and gentlemen, for this collection of stamps. Any advance on fifty pounds?” the auctioneer queried. “ Guineas,” laconically from the broker. “ Fifty guineas—l have fifty guineas. Anyone further than fifty guineas?” “ Seventy-five,” from Mark. “Any advance on seventy-five pounds?” “Guineas,” again from the broker. There was a slight stir at the door, but everyone was too interested to notice it except Mark, who glanced at his watch. .Yes it was just about the time some of the from the north might be expected to arrive if they were coming; but would they? He felt worried. “ One hundred pounds,” from Mark, a little dseperately. He glanced at Winthorpe, who gave a little scowling nod to his broker. “Guineas,” from the broker. A thin elderly man elbowed his way through the people. “One hundred guineas is offered,” said the auctioneer; “will anyone advance on one hundred guineas?” “Sir,” said the stranger, “may I be permitted one look at lot 19 before you go on; I could not get here earlier?” “ Certainly, sir,” said the auctioneer, a _ little anxiously, Mark thought. Quickly the stranger and two or three others who had entered with him ran through the pages, till they suddenly came to a stop, and, laying down the book, examined with great care an envelope it contained through a magnifying glass. Each of the three examined it, then replaced the envelope, shut the book sharply, and handed it to the auctioneer’, amid a breathless silence among the spectators. “Sir,” said the spokesman, “I offer you two hundred and fifty pounds.” A slight gasp ran round the room. “What’s the meaning of this foolery?” a voice behind Mark asked. “ You started it.” Mark glanced over his shoulder; it was Winthorpe who spoke. “ You should know best. You made your own arrangements with the auctioneer. I heard you,’ said Mark. “What!” Winthorpe’s face rvas a deep, apoplectic purple now. “Hush,” said Mark, “they’re bidding.” “Three hundred pound.”" “ Guineas.” “Three hundred and fifty pound.” “Three hundred and sixty pound.” And so the bidding went on, the strangers bidding one against the other, quietly and yet with a suppressed eagerness in their manner. The audience were quiet as mice, so greatly were they startled and interested by the turn events had taken. Steadily the bids rose. Seven hundred and fifty was reached, eighty, ninety, and then one thousand pounds belli"' offered. The strangers had given their cards to the auctioneer at the commencement, and he was now taking the bids with a white, strained face. “ Going—going for twelve hundred pounds,” he said. “ Twelve hundred and fifty.” “ Twelve fifty, going, going, any advance on twelve fifty? Gone!!!” and his hammer came down sharply, making everyone start, the lot falling to the thin stranger with the glasses. At once he pro-

duced a roll of bank notes, and counting them out took a receipt, and the lot was handed to him. The perspiration stood in great beads on Mark’s forehead, so keenly had he followed the bidding, and now as he glanced round Winthorpe had disappeared ; he gave a sigh of relief; so it was all over! He patted Blanche's shoulder reassuringly, for she had been trembling l like a leaf; and small wonder, too, for much of her future prosperity had depended on that bidding. Only a little while longer did they remain, but just long enough to see that the different lots were fetching “scare” prices, and Mark chuckled as they left the house. Outside he met the strangers who had bid so keenly, and, seeing the buyer, he went up and spoke to him, and soon he was telling the three the whole story. “Well, well,” said the buyer, “I congratulate you, Mr Hewlett, on your acumen. I should not have come down had not your wire been confirmed by the newspaper paragraph. I soon ascertained that Mr Hargrave had really been in Mauritius, and so down I came, and none too soon it seems, and these other gentlemen were in much the same boat. I heartily congratulate you, and the lady also, and I trust that the Mauritius may be the foundation-stone of your happiness and prosperity.” Mark wrote a very straight letter to Winthorpe, which made that gentleman writhe and swear; but it was too late. The net proceeds of that sale were phenomenal, and Blanche had a nice “dot” with which to marry.