"He only gets sixpence a week, and he's always breaking windows and other things, and having it stopped." There seemed only one way out of the difficulty, and that was to put as it were an execution into Mugford's desk, and realize a certain amount of his private property.
"Look here," said Acton, "he must sell something .-- Now, then," he added, turning to the defendant, "just shell out something and bring it here at once, and we'll have an auction." The boy walked off to his desk, and after rummaging about in it for some little time, returned with a miscellaneous collection of small articles in his arms, which he proceeded to hand up one by one for the judge's inspection.
"What's this ?" "Oh, its a book that was given me on my birthday, called 'Lofty Thoughts for Little Thinkers.'" "Lofty grandmother!" said Acton impatiently.
"What else have you got ?" "Well, here's a wire puzzle, only I think a bit of it's lost, and the clasp of a cricket belt, and old Dick Rodman's chessboard and some of the men, and some stuff for chilblains, and--" "Oh, dry up!" interrupted Acton; "what bosh! Who d'you expect would buy any of that rubbish?
Look here, we'll give you till after dinner, and unless you find something sensible by then, we shall come and hunt for ourselves." "That's just like Mug," said Jack Vance to Diggory, as the group of boys slowly dispersed; "he's always doing something stupid.

But I suppose as we made that alliance, we ought to try to help the beggar somehow." They followed their unfortunate comrade to his desk, which when opened displayed a perfect chaos of ragged books, loose sheets of paper, broken pen-holders, pieces of string, battered cardboard boxes, and other rubbish.
"Look here, Mug, what have you got to sell?
you'll have to fork out something." "I don't know," returned the other mournfully, stirring up the contents of the desk as though he were making a Christmas pudding.

"I've got nothing, except--well, there's this book of Poe's, 'Tales of Adventure, Mystery, and Imagination,' and my clasp-knife; and perhaps some one would buy these fret-saw patterns or this dog-chain." He turned out two or three more small articles and laid them on the form.
"Are there any of these things you particularly wish to keep ?" asked Diggory; "because, if so, Vance and I'll bid for them, and then you can buy them back from us again when you've got some more money." "That's awfully kind of you," answered Mugford, brightening up.

"I'll tell you what I should like to keep, and that's my clasp-knife and the book; they're such jolly stories.

'The Pit and the Pendulum' always gives me bad dreams, and 'The Premature Burial' makes you feel certain you'll be buried alive." "All right; and did you bring a cake back with you ?" "Yes." "Well, then, sell that first, and you can share our grub." The auction was held directly after dinner.