Polly's Business Venture Part 21

"He doesn't look as if he had sixty cents in his purse," said Eleanor, scornfully.

A lady standing beside her, looked at the buyer and smiled. "That man is one of the buyers of one of the largest antique collectors in New York."

"He is!" gasped Eleanor.

"Who is the collector?" asked Polly, but the woman saw a little Toby put up for sale, just then, and she wanted to bid on it, so Polly never heard.

Anything that could boast of being a hundred years old, or more, brought fabulous prices, and the girls were amazed to hear names that they had read of in the columns of the New York papers, called out by the cashier, but never dreamed they would come face to face with the owners thereof.

Jack Baxter spied a woman he knew, and finally brought her over to meet Mrs. Fabian and the girls. This lady was a social leader in the City, and furnished much interesting information to her new acquaintances, about others present who were buying.

That sale taught Polly that it was not always the farm-houses that furnished the rarest bargains at a sale, especially when that farm was in proximity to a well-known residential suburb. But she also found that not everyone who attends a public sale, and bids anxiously, knows the value of what they are bidding on.

Thus it transpired, that she secured several of the finest antiques in the house, because others knew nothing of their true records or had overlooked the objects because of their unattractive finish or form.

Jack furnished much amus.e.m.e.nt to his friends by bidding on everything the girls did not want. And the most amusing part of it was, he seldom secured a thing he bid on. He finally grew so desperate in his bidding, because Polly laughed at his luck, that the people frowned upon him as being a "professional capper."

Mr. Van Styne overheard that remark and was furious.

"I want you all to know that I am an honest auctioneer! I never had a booster in my life, and I've sold for nigh onto fifty years. That nice-looking young man you call a 'capper' is a friend of some friends of mine from New York, out here to buy antiques. To prove it to you-all, that young lady there, next the young man, is the one who gave the 'Metropolitan' the rare print she found in my shop. So there! I reckon that will hold you, for a time!"

The surprise felt by the buyers at this news about Polly, was instantly followed by a general laugh at the auctioneer's final remark to them.

Baxter laughed at the interruption, but Polly felt very uncomfortable with so many eyes turned her way. Mr. Van Styne, never dreaming of having made personal remarks, now continued his sale.

The antique furniture in the upstairs chambers brought higher prices than Polly had seen similar pieces on sale at the antique shops in New York, and she wondered still more that a country auction should bring forth buyers who were willing to pay such high prices.

Finally, feeling sure that there were no more bargains for them that day, Polly led the way downstairs. Young Baxter tried to persuade her to remain and try for a high-boy she had admired, but she refused to give the high bids demanded. So Jack stayed when the others left the room.

Down on the side-porch, while waiting for Carl to come from the carriage sheds, a well-dressed lady accosted Polly.

"I heard the auctioneer say you presented a rare print to the Museum in New York City. I should be pleased to hear about it."

She handed Polly a card. Upon reading the name of one of the best known amateur collectors in New York, Polly forgot to reply. Mrs. Fabian smiled and spoke for her, to give her time to recover from her surprise. After introducing the girls, Mrs. Fabian mentioned the fact that Polly and Eleanor took advantage of every sale in or about the City, in order to familiarize themselves with such articles as they would need in their profession.

"Oh, are you studying this line of work?" asked the lady, deeply interested at once.

"Yes, we have given several years to the study, already, and last Summer we went abroad to visit the best known places where antiques and collections were to be seen," replied Polly.

"Well then, my dears, this is my lucky day. I want someone to do this sort of work for me, but I want only such interested individuals who love the collecting for itself, and not alone for wages. Also, I want someone who can tell a Sheraton piece from Empire. If you girls will accept a proposition from me, I will be glad to talk it over, some morning, with you."

Polly smiled and said: "If your orders do not interfere with our studies and other work, we will gladly accept the work."

So, by the time Jack Baxter hurried down the stairs, Polly and Eleanor had made a new connection with one of New York's social leaders. Jack looked about for his friends, for a moment, and then smiled in surprise as he rushed forward.

"Why, Mrs. Courtney! I am delighted to see you here. Did you just arrive?"

"Well, if it isn't Jack Baxter! No, my boy, I came out this morning thinking this was a _bona fide_ antique sale. To my disgust, I found it was 'fixed' by a clever dealer from the city, who chooses just such suburban towns as are famous for its millionaire residents, then he plans a campaign. He was wise enough, this time, to engage Mr. Van Styne to do the selling for him, as the old man is so popular with the people of his town, and he is a splendid auctioneer, at the same time."

Polly was dumbfounded. "Do you mean to say that anyone would take the trouble to ship out all these antiques, so far from the city, just to catch a lot of buyers?"

Mrs. Courtney laughed. "Of course, my dear. People will take any amount of trouble to make a few extra dollars. This dealer owns his own trucks, and why not let them put in a day's work carting a load of furniture here, if he can get twice as much for his goods as in New York? All he has to do, is to find the right type of old house conveniently near the city for motoring and large enough to show off his wares to the best advantage. This man is clever enough, too, to select only such places as are rich with Revolutionary lore, and near enough to the estates of the rich to be an attraction to owners to come. Then he mails announcements to his city clientele, also. That is how I heard of the sale."

Jack frowned angrily. "I suppose that darned old high-boy I just bought for a top-notch figure, could have been purchased at this man's city shop for half the price! Now I have to pay to have it crated and shipped back to New York."

"Oh, this 'fixer' will move it back in his trucks for a neat sum," said Eleanor.

Her companions laughed. Polly then reminded him: "I said _not_ to bid on it! I knew it would go too high for us to bother with."

Carl now drove up to the house, and Mrs. Courtney bid them good-day, having reminded Polly that she and Eleanor were to telephone her at their first opportunity.

Polly could not help speaking of the "fixed" sale of antiques, and Eleanor said: "That is why everything brought such awfully high prices.

The articles must have had a set price on them to begin with, and when Mr. Van Styne offered a thing, the dealer was there to run it to a figure beyond the given price on the books. I am surprised that the old auctioneer would do such a thing."

"I don't believe he knew the sale was what we call 'padded'; for he seems too conscientious a man to lend himself to such a deception," remarked Mrs. Fabian.

"If he was just hired to sell the stuff, regardless of how it got out to Parsippany, and told to follow book-orders, he had no choice, had he?"

asked Polly.

"He looks such an honest old fellow, I don't believe he even knew the goods came from a New York dealer. Just because he _is_ so honest, is one reason why people who knew him will listen to his advice and for the same reason a clever New York dealer would hire him. I wouldn't be surprised, if you girls hear from him, some day, to the effect that he is shocked to learn that this sale was not on the level as far as the yarn went," said Jack.

"Well, I'd feel better if he did. I really feel hurt, now, to think he might be as tricky as that other dealer," said Polly.

"But it would not be called 'tricky,' Polly, in clever business circles,"

said Mrs. Fabian.

"Maybe not, but to me it looks a lot like selling goods under false representations. I'd rather not sell anything than have to sell that way."

"When you come right down to 'bra.s.s tacks' and study out the whole scheme of things, Polly, we might be accused of tricky works, too," remarked Eleanor.

"What do you mean?" demanded Polly, astonished.

"Well, when you think of how we got that pair of old candle-sticks in exchange for a bra.s.s lamp! We had no lamp to exchange, but Mrs. Fabian rushed off to a store and got one. Then there were those old pictures at Van Styne's. We were afraid he'd suspect them of being valuable, so we dusted them well again, as they had been originally, and placed them with two others to make a 'job lot' of them, to hide the facts about them."

"But," remonstrated Polly, "the lady who had no use for the candle-sticks _did_ want a bra.s.s lamp the worst way. And Sally Dolan, who never appreciated the pictures when she had them, _did_ appreciate the money we paid for them--while we appreciated the old things other folks failed to value."

"Polly is right, there, Nolla," added Mrs. Fabian. "I do not see a trick in giving a person exactly what they ask for a thing--whether they realize the true value of it, or not. That is their affair. In Law, the Judge says there is no excuse or cause, for mitigating a sentence because the prisoner claims he was ignorant of consequences of a deed. So it is in other lines: Ignorance can never claim excuse from consequences--whether it be a sale of a candle-stick or a piece of old land that turns out to have gold on it."

"Then I should say, ignorance on the part of the buyers at this vendue, exonerates the dealer from all blame," said Eleanor.

"Legally it does, but we were thinking of the moral," explained Mrs.

Fabian.

When the collectors reached the Fabian house, Jack seemed loath to go on, so Mrs. Fabian invited him in to have a bite with them at an informal dinner.

It had been plainly evident for some time, that the only interest Jack Baxter had taken in furnishing his apartment, or in going about to hunt out old antiques, was because it gave him plenty of opportunities to be with Polly. And as is often the case, when one is completely absorbed in a pursuit, Polly was the last one to suspect the truth of this.

But he forgot discretion that evening, at dinner, and permitted too much of his attention to be directed Polly's way. Even this might have been overlooked had not an interruption occurred while at the table.