"All right," agreed the clerk. "But you'll have to find some man you can trust to take the bill of sale. We can't pass title to a minor."
"Why didn't you tell me that before?" Dick demanded.
"That's all right. It wasn't necessary before, but it is now. Just find some man who will treat you all right and give you the canoe. Then we'll take the money and make out the bill of sale to him."
Fred Ripley now sauntered up, offering his money. He was given the same directions for finding a man to whom title could pass.
Dick looked about him. Then across the lot, and over on the further side of the street he saw his father.
Dick returned quickly to the lot with Mr. Prescott, explaining the situation. The bookseller listened gravely, but offered no objections. He stepped over, paid the money for Dick, then said:
"I must be going. Turn the canoe over to my son."
"Yes, sir," replied the auctioneer's clerk. "Men, haul out the truck that has the canoe on."
Mr. Prescott had already walked away. Dick and his chums greeted the coming of truck and canoe with a wild whoop. Then they piled up on the truck to inspect their treasure.
Fred Ripley, returning with Mr. Dodge, a local banker, saw the six youngsters climbing up to look at their purchase. A broad, malicious grin appeared on Ripley's face.