Northwest Collector

8 tips for shopping for rare books online

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Book buying the old-school way: Francis Donlin Bedford, illustration for The Story-Teller: A Volume of Original Pictures, Stories, and Verses, edited and arranged by A. J. Fuller (London: E. Nister, 1899). From the British Library Archive.

Having posted two stories titled “How to Deal with Dealers,” parts 1 and 2, I feel I should reiterate: I am not at war with dealers. Everyone has a right to make a profit on their labor and/or knowledge, and collectibles dealers are no exception.

I personally know many fair, square, upfront dealers in a variety of collecting fields and especially among rare book and autograph dealers: there are some real gentlemen (and ladies!) among the bookselling crowd.

What I DON’T like is being dealt with by sniveling, deceitful rare book dealers who play games in order to buy cheap and sell dear: I’d much prefer that they say, as Rick Harrison used to do on Pawn Stars, something like: “Look, I would expect to sell it for $XXX and have to make enough profit to pay my overhead. Therefore, I can offer you half that,” or one-quarter, or whatever. Instead, I’ve had people ask me to send them an item on approval, knowing full well how much I wanted (and misleading me that they intended to purchase at that price), then whine about not being able to pay what I was asking.

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: the only difference between some—some—collectibles dealers and fishmongers is the smell—and plenty of fishmongers are a breath of fresh air compared to that minority of unpleasant collectibles dealers.

But I digress . . .

Since books and autographs are my main collecting fields, I thought I’d share a few tips with you on getting the best stuff at the best prices . . .

  1. Never bid in an auction, online or otherwise, without comparison-shopping. For the life of me, I can never understand why two dimwits will get in a bidding war on eBay, driving the price of a signed book up to $200, when the same damn book, signed and in better condition, is available for $150 through a book search website. Yet, it happens all the time. Don’t get caught up in the frenzy: Do your homework first!
  1. For books and autographs, the best site I know of is viaLibri. Why? Because viaLibri includes Abebooks, Alibris, Biblio.com, Amazon, eBay, and 175 other websites internationally. Talk about casting a wide net!
  1. Check dealers’ websites before you buy a book. Some dealers don’t list on the big book search sites. Or the exact same book is priced differently on three different book search sites as well as their own, which may be the cheapest. Or a dealer may post images of the book only on their own site—and when you see what it looks like, may make you not want it after all. Shop around!
  1. Play with the search parameters. I’m no techie, so don’t ask me why, but searching by title only can yield fruit that searching by author only won’t. Sure, you may have to weed through a lot of listings, but think of yourself as a visitor to an online flea market. That’s where the treasures are to be found.
  1. Got questions about a book? Don’t hesitate to ask. Not every book search site will let you contact a seller directly; if it does, you can save yourself time and angst by confirming a book’s availability and description—especially if it’s a hot item. (I don’t know how many times I’ve “bought” a book, only to be told that it had already been sold and the seller had neglected to remove the listing. Or that a book wasn’t accurately described. See #6.) Many sellers are happy to send scans if you request them.
  1. Beware: The description may be wrong. For example, if a book has a “gift inscription” or “loose signatures” (i.e., the sewn-in pages are coming out), many book search cataloging programs will label these “signed by the author.” They’re not. If the description says, “Warmly inscribed ‘To Captain Ahab, with best wishes from your fishing buddy, Herman Melville,’” that’s a safe bet—apart from the fact that Melville would have signed it “your homeboy, Herman Melville.” Again, when in doubt, ask; otherwise you may be tying up your money in an unwanted purchase and have to return it before you can get reimbursed.
  1. If you ask for a price reduction, be reasonable. To me, buying books is
    “the start of a beautiful friendship,” to quote Bogie in Casablanca. I like to purchase from people I like, and I hope my purchase will result in some goodwill—and future purchases. However, business is business, and politely asking for a discount with good reason (the operative term) is not out of line. For example, if a book has condition issues or is clearly overpriced because you know the market, those are legitimate reasons to ask for a price cut.

NORTHWEST COLLECTOR’S TIPS FOR REQUESTING A DISCOUNT: (a) Explain why, and don’t BS. Point out the book’s good points—i.e., your reasons for wanting it—but explain why you feel the price might be lowered; many dealers will respect that. Don’t ask for a discount if the book is already very reasonably priced, as your credibility will go right out the window. (b) Be nice about it. Ask if the seller will “consider” (the word I use) selling at a lower price. If not, don’t get huffy: even if the dealer hasn’t a clue to how overpriced he is—or, worse, routinely overprices in order to profit from walk-ins at his shop—ultimately, it’s his right to price the book as he pleases. You’d do much better to say, “Well, thank you anyway. Please keep me in mind if you ever reconsider and decide to come down a little.” You may be pleasantly surprised a year later. (c) Don’t low-ball it. If you decide to throw out a specific price you’d like to pay for the book, be realistic; again, it’s a credibility issue, and a crazy-low price is just not credible. Personally, I wouldn’t ask for more than 20 percent off—25 percent max—and even then I’d expect to meet somewhere in the middle.

  1. If you do get a discount, express your sincere gratitude afterward. As I noted earlier, there are a lot of nice people out there selling books and other collectibles. When someone cuts you a break, return the goodwill by saying thank you and expressing the hope that you’ll do business again soon. Dealers are people, too, and they want to feel good about selling something—ESPECIALLY at a discount.  After you make a purchase, get in the habit of sending the dealer a want list, asking that they keep you in mind if and when another item in your collecting area comes up. Again, you’ll be surprised how responsive people can be.

We’re always looking for feedback here at NorthwestCollector.com. Let us know what you think!

Dealing with dealers, Part 2

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When sending images of an item to a prospective buyer (i.e., a dealer) or consignee (an auction house), it helps to photograph it next to a ruler or or standard-size object to give an idea of its dimensions.

After you learn as much as you possibly can about an item you want to sell or consign, the next step is finding a prospective buyer or an auction house that will not just put your treasure on the block but get you a good price for it.

In order to advance to that stage, you need to

Take some really good photos!

The fastest, easiest and cheapest way to get a response from dealers or auctioneers is to send them pictures of the goods. If you don’t have a good digital camera—or if you are like me: really bad at taking photos—then get a friend to help you. If you are able to take high-res images, try to compress them so they’re easy to send by e-mail and you won’t shut down the recipient’s mailbox.

A dealer or consignee will want to know as much as possible about what you are offering. First and foremost, that means its condition: It’s not enough for you to describe something as “in great shape” or “only slightly soiled” or “with only minor wear,” especially if you’re a layman; you have to prove it. There is almost always a specific terminology used to describe each type of collectible—coins, baseball cards and comic books have very clearly defined grading systems—and good photos will do the talking for you. Meanwhile, I note that eBay listings with lousy photos don’t attract as much interest as similar listings in which the photos are crisp and clear. It’s not just that serious collectors are distrustful of muddy, unfocused images (the seller may be trying to hide or gloss over something); people respond better when an item is well presented.

With autographs, currency, ceramics, some vintage newspapers, furniture, artwork—virtually anything of value—authenticity is always in question. Be sure to take close-ups of signatures, seals, stamps and other hallmarks.

Take a bunch of photos—not just one or two—from different angles and distances and showing all the important details, both positive and negative. If there’s any damage, be sure to show it, because it will only mean problems later on if the purchaser or auctioneer receives it and is unpleasantly surprised.

Take the photos in a clean, well-lit place, but take care to avoid glare, especially if you use a flash. Try to do justice to the object’s colors—you don’t want nice, bright hues to look washed-out—and photograph it against a black or white backdrop, whichever will create better contrast. When size is a consideration (isn’t it always?), some people put a common object—a pencil or a coin, for example—next to the object for purposes of comparison. (Or just lay a ruler beside it. Duh.) For larger items, you can just measure it carefully and include the dimensions in your written description.

If your item is handwritten—a signed photo or letter, say—or is printed or has a maker’s mark, be sure to photograph it up close: With autographs, currency, ceramics, some vintage newspapers, furniture, artwork—virtually anything of value—authenticity is always in question. Be sure to take close-ups of signatures, seals, stamps and other hallmarks. Anyone who watches Antiques Roadshow  knows that the collectibles market is rife with fakes, forgeries, and adulterated artifacts. Modern editions of antique Japanese ukiyo-e prints have been made using the original woodblocks—it usually takes an expert to spot the difference—and photographs are reprinted as well. Rock posters from the 1960s—which can fetch a lot of bread if they’re really ’60ssurvivors—are frequently pirated, and a premier dealer in boxing memorabilia (a professional authenticator himself) once told me he flat-out refused to trade in Muhammad Ali autograph material because more than 90 percent of what’s being hawked as hand-signed by The Greatest is in fact forged.

Take the photos in a clean, well-lit place, but take care to avoid glare, especially if you use a flash. Try to do justice to the object’s colors—you don’t want nice, bright hues to look washed-out—and photograph it against a black or white backdrop, whichever will create better contrast.

The work of famous furniture makers may be reproduced with or without the intent to deceive—but by the same token your old highboy need not have been made by John Townsend or Thomas Chippendale to be a highly desirable piece: I think one of the reasons people love Leigh and Leslie Keno, the identical twin appraisers on Antiques Roadshow, is their enthusiasm for any piece of great craftsmanship that has served generations of owners well and has been handed down in as close to its original state as possible.

Books, of course, can go through any number of editions, printings, impressions and states. Bibliographies and collector’s checklists can tell you how to identify a book’s state based on, say, a misspelling or piece of broken type on a particular page that was later corrected. If you have gotten that far in your research, be sure to photograph those fine points as well. In fact, with books, you should photograph both front and back covers and the spine; the same parts of the dust jacket (if present) as well as the flaps; any inscriptions and/or bookplates; the title page; the copyright page; and the frontispiece (the picture facing the title page) and several of the illustrations, if there are any. Even the tissue that used to be inserted over engravings to keep them from bleeding into the facing pages—they count too. All of these details will give an expert a clearer idea of what you have to offer.

Speaking of illustrations, consider the case of Mark Twain’s masterwork, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (1884), which Ernest Hemingway and many others have called the greatest novel ever written by an American. Some clown working at the printer’s added a little something to one of the illustrations—actually, he drew a small erection on the character of Silas Phelps—just before the book went to press.

if you still aren’t sure about your item, don’t commit to selling it to the first guy who shares a little of his expertise: if you have something truly unique and valuable, like a ticket on the Titanic, it’s still in his interest to relieve you of it at the lowest price possible.

There are various versions circulating of what happened next. I’ve read that the altered plate made its way into 3,000 copies of the prospectus for the book (i.e., the salesmen’s samples of the incomplete novel), of which some 250 copies got sent out—getting a rise, so to speak, from bookshop proprietors and their pals. The publisher issued a recall; the dirty plate was cut out of the returned copies and the other 2,750 prospectuses not yet sent out; and a new, cleaned-up plate was pasted in.

I’ve also read that 30,000 copies of the first edition were printed and bound with the illustration before anyone spotted the offending member. Talk about Victorian horror! After the alarum (to use the antiquated spelling) was raised and the machinery of book production screeched to a halt, and naughty Uncle Silas had to be cut out copy by copy and replaced with a revised illustration, delaying the book’s release.

Supposedly, no copies of the complete first edition of Huckleberry Finn survive with the picture of an exposed Uncle Silas—and may never have been produced—while one copy of the prospectus is known to exist. (For this reason, the first of the two versions above seems more likely, as any number of people would have seized the chance to pocket one or more unexpurgated copies of the first edition from such a large print run.) Needless to say, if you happen to have either a prospectus or a true first edition of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn in your home library with Uncle Silas in all his glory (small as it was), you are well on your way to owning that Lamborghini you’ve been fantasizing about.

I tell you all this just to give an indication of all the tweaking, cutting, correcting and adjusting that go into preparing for and actually making a bound book: the example of Huckleberry Finn happens to be an off-color one. Knowing something about these distinctions will help you better understand what edition you have as well as its uniqueness and value.

Of course, if you still aren’t sure about your item, photos will help a knowledgeable person identify it. However, as I indicated in part one of this series, don’t commit to selling your item to the first guy who shares a little of his expertise: if you have something truly unique and valuable, like a ticket on the Titanic, it’s still in his interest to relieve you of it at the lowest price possible. An auction house, at least, has a vested interest in getting you top dollar for your collectible if you will consign it to them.

Dealing with dealers, Part 1

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Frans Francken the Younger (1581–1642), Flemish, An Antique Dealer’s Gallery (between 1615 and 1620), Galleria Borghese, Rome. Don’t be that monkey!

The following post focuses on selling to dealers. I’ll preface it by saying that I’ve met some incredibly nice dealers over the years, so please don’t think I’ve got a thing against dealers in general. They are just like other people: some are wonderful people and some are money-grubbing, unscrupulous sociopaths. Both kinds are in the business of making money. The nice ones are more likely to treat you fairly, even if you’re not really sure about the value of what you’re selling. They may even tell you—as Rick Harrison did on Pawn Stars (at least when the cameras were rolling)—what its real value is. Don’t expect that from the sociopaths. If you rely, Blanche DuBois–like, on the kindness of strangers, you may well come away with a more dismal view of humanity. Caveat venditor!

Some time ago a gentleman who read one of my posts e-mailed to tell me to say he had a Union Pacific Railroad poster from 1869 and wondered how to determine its value. On another occasion, a woman contacted me about selling some correspondence between Lady Clementine Churchill (wife of Sir Winston) and Field Marshal Bernard Law Montgomery, whose World War II legacy includes the command of all Allied ground troops on a little mission known as D-Day.

Exciting stuff! I only wish I had the expertise and experience to tell these folks what their collectibles were worth, but at least I could offer them a course of action:

Do. Your. Homework.

If you’d rather be lazy and simply ask a dealer or even another collector what your item is worth—and if you really don’t know them well or have good reason to trust them—beware: you are ripe for fleecing.

I am distrustful of first offers from dealers unless I know how they price their inventory, as it gives me a general idea of their profit margin. If I sound cynical, it comes from experience. No matter how sincere a dealer seems—no matter how “high-class” their shop or website looks—if you have no clue to the value of your item, you run the risk of seriously underselling it.

A high-end autograph dealer I once knew would buy cheaply in a way that, I assume, allowed him to sleep at night: he would ask what you wanted for an item, then hoped you’d be dumb enough (as I was) to undervalue it. What bugged me then—and still does—is that I actually trusted him to truthfully say, “Look, it’s a nice piece, but I need to make a profit. Let me offer you X number of dollars for it, which is a fair price and as good as you’ll get from another dealer.” He didn’t do that. When I offered him an autograph letter written by a certain early photographer of the American West, he played dumb and asked me what price I had in mind. I suggested $200. He jumped at it, then listed it on his website for $1,200, describing letters by this photographer as “shockingly rare.”

Was this unethical? Arguably no. This guy would no doubt say, “Business is business, and I didn’t break any laws or lie to you. You should have researched it.” But I felt taken advantage of.

Make good scans of the item you want to sell and send them to several dealers and auction houses that specialize in that kind of collectible. If it is a unique item—as opposed to, say, a coin or limited-edition plate with a book value—you’ll be surprised at the range of offers you’ll receive.

How do you guard against this? As I told the fellow with the Union Pacific poster: Ask around. Make good scans of the item you want to sell and send them to several dealers and auction houses that specialize in that kind of collectible. If it is a unique item—as opposed to, say, a coin or limited-edition plate with a book value—you’ll be surprised at the range of offers you’ll receive.

Also, there’s a wealth of information online. Google your item and see what comes up. Sometimes you will find the same item or a similar one on a dealer website and can get some idea of an asking price. (But take it with a grain of salt: the item may be overpriced, which is why it hasn’t sold.)

On Antiques Roadshow, the appraisers often talk about “comparables,” the prices at which auction items have sold for. You can check individual auction websites for their hammer prices, or you can cast a wider net—which, of course, is why WorthPoint is such a valuable resource: it’s a tool the professionals use. However, you can also see past sale prices on LiveAuctioneers, Invaluable, and some auction houses, like Heritage Auctions. (For all of these you’ll need to start an account.)

Then there’s eBay. No matter what nasty things brick-and-mortar collectibles dealers say—that eBay and other online auction and dealer sites are killing their businesses—most of them buy and/or sell online. If you find a comparable eBay item, it may give you a sense of the price it can fetch, especially if there are bidders. If the item is up for auction, click on the little heart to “watch” and see what it sells for. If it is listed on “Buy It Now” and no one’s purchasing, it may well be because it’s overpriced. (Be sure to take condition into account.) If your item is nowhere to be found on eBay, you may have to watch over a period of months or even years before a similar one is listed. That may give you some idea of its scarcity . . . because, sooner or later, virtually everything comes up on eBay.

Finally, if you have a genuinely rare piece, contact libraries and museums that have similar holdings in their collections. Institutions are not in the business of pricing collectibles, but a curator or researcher may be nice enough to give you some information on it or a lead on who to contact. And while most public and university museums and libraries don’t have the budgets to buy items, especially in lean economic times, private institutions may. Or they may ask you to consider donating your item for a tax write-off. If you are able and willing to do so, I doff my hat to you: scholars can study it and the general public can enjoy it.

Hollywood and the thing with . . .

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The original photographic wanted poster

Before there were wanted posters in the Old West—those standard props in Hollywood Westerns, featuring mug shots of glowering, greasy-haired murderers and train robbers, bushwhackers and cattle rustlers, card cheats, horse thieves, and all manner of other evildoers—there were wanted posters offering rewards for information leading to the arrest of the conspirators in the assassination of President Abraham Lincoln in 1865.

A wanted poster for the Lincoln assassination conspirators. Note that actual photos were applied. Other wanted posters for the collaborators in the plot lacked the photos. Courtesy of the Library of Congress.

I’ve seen these broadsides with and without photographs. In America, at least, the version with photos is believed to be the first to feature real images of wanted men. Small surprise that the newest technology would be employed: it was in the service of a nationwide manhunt for the murderers of the president, after all. (I’ve seen an earlier poster from England with a skillful engraving of a fugitive thief, which was no doubt rare and would have been costly, but it happened that the crook ripped off the sister of the engraver, so he volunteered his artistic talents to the pursuit.) However, the photographs are not printed on the paper but are albumin prints affixed to the poster, of which a very limited number of copies were made: the technology to print photos on paper for wider circulation (as in books and newspapers) had not yet been invented.

Wanted in the West

The great Marshall Trimball, official historian of the state of Arizona, True West magazine columnist, prolific author, and an authority on the Old West whom I’ve consulted in the past, was asked by a True West reader when photos were first used on wanted posters.

“In the classic era of the Old West—1870s and 1880s—most reward posters were just handbills or postcards sent to law enforcement officials with printed descriptions of the wanted men. No photos . . . ,” Trimble replied.

“Authorities rarely placed wanted posters in public places. A reward or wanted notice would occasionally be printed in a newspaper, but for the most part, they were not intended for general consumption.”

—Marshall Trimball

A postcard from Iowa in 1882 offering $100 for the arrest of a horse thief. Here, too, an albumin photo was pasted on. Wanted postcards were an easy way for peace officers to get the word out on wanted men (and the occasional woman). Author’s collection.
A great example of a pre-photographic handbill from San Francisco in early 1897, advertising a $500 reward for a murderer. Image courtesy of Gene W. Baade Books on the West, www.booksonthewest.com.

He pointed out that it wasn’t until the late 1890s or early 1900s that entirely printed handbills and wanted posters featuring images of outlaws began to appear as printing technology evolved: “For example, the Pinkertons put out several posters of the members of the Wild Bunch, complete with pictures.”

Prior to that, “some lawmen carried photos made of criminals when they were in prison,” Trimball observed. “The backs of these mug shots featured descriptions that included height, weight, hair and eye color, scars and identifying marks. But these were put together by hand, and the photos were originals, not prints. I’ve seen these saddlebag circulars, and they are amazing. You can see the seeds of the later wanted posters that we think of when we watch Western movies.”1

I’ve seen the Wild Bunch posters that Trimble mentioned, issued by the Pinkerton National Detective Agency: they are double-sided “circulars” (the Pinkerton agency’s own term) loaded with information on Butch Cassidy, Harry Longbaugh (the Sundance Kid), and other members of the gang, and they all seem to date from 1904—relatively late. Also, they don’t look like the kind of things that would have been put up on a wall or lamppost, and in fact Trimble notes: “Authorities rarely placed wanted posters in public places. A reward or wanted notice would occasionally be printed in a newspaper, but for the most part, they were not intended for general consumption.”2

So that’s two myths exploded: wanted posters in the Old West weren’t put up on Main Street in Big Bug, Arizona Territory (which used to be an actual place but is now a ghost town), and they didn’t feature the likenesses of bad guys, either drawn or photographed—at any rate, not prior to the turn of the twentieth century.

Kirk Douglas as Howard Nightingale, a Texas marshal and aspiring U.S. senator, in the 1975 film Posse, with a wanted poster for train robber Jack Strawhorn (Bruce Dern). The press kit indicates the story takes place in the 1890s. The format of the poster may be a little off, but at least it’s close to the time when a poster with a printed mug shot might have been produced. Photo from the Douglas Foundation Archive. Used with their kind permission.

Early posters with printed photos

Since the Butch Cassidy/Sundance Kid/Wild Bunch posters of 1904 are often cited as among the earliest wanted posters with printed-on photos, I started looking for earlier ones from west of the Mississippi. The oldest I’ve found so far dates to 1900, but I’m certain that there are earlier ones. Some examples follow. They are often found on book dealers’ websites and on eBay, as are earlier ones with applied photos. The ones on this page that are from booksellers were still available at the time of this writing.

Not exactly exactly a wanted poster but an early image nonetheless, of a man missing from San Francisco in 1900. Author’s collection.
A 1901 poster from Chicago for a guy who embezzled from American Express. Image courtesy of David Hamilton Americana Books, www.americanabookstore.com.

Notes

  1. Marshal Trimball, “When Were Photos First Put on Wanted Posters?,” True West, June 10, 2013, accessed August 2, 2025, https://truewestmagazine.com/article/when-were-photos-first-put-on-wanted-posters/.
  2. Trimball, “When Were Photos First Put on Wanted Posters?”

COLLECT THIS EXPERIENCE! While researching the above story, I came across a great website called I Review Westerns. These are thoughtful, intelligent, earthy, no-holds-barred assessments of Westerns—films and literary works—by someone who is clearly devoted to the genre. You may not agree with all the reviews, but they are an awful lot of fun to read. I encourage you to visit IReviewWesterns.com.

Scripophily.com: Stock certificates and more . . .

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From time to time I check out Scripophily.com, a major dealer in collectible stock certificates—not just for those but for other assorted ephemera as well: letters, autographs, etc. Here’s a current selection (by no means complete!) related to the Old West.

Farmers and Merchants Bank of Los Angeles check signed by Isaias W. Hellman and Nelson Story in 1871. The oldest bank in Southern California, the Farmers and Merchants Bank was founded in 1871 by John D. Downey and Isaias W. Hellman, a successful German Jewish merchant and real estate speculator. Nelson Story had a colorful career that included freighting between Missouri and the Rocky Mountains, driving cattle and a wagon train from Texas to Montana through hostile Indian territory, as well as mining, milling, ranching, and banking. He is a major figure in the history of Bozeman, Montana. $295. https://scripophily.net/farmers-and-merchants-bank-of-los-angeles-1871-signed-by-isaias-w-hellman-and-nelson-story/

Pawnee Bill signed check for Buffalo Bill’s Wild West and Pawnee Bill’s Great Far East Show, dated 1912. Pawnee Bill (Gordon William Lillie, 1860-1942) was a trapper, cowboy, and waiter before finding employment as a teacher at the Pawnee Agency in Indian Territory (now Oklahoma). In 1883 he was hired as a Pawnee interpreter in Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show. He later started his own show,  Pawnee Bill’s Historical Wild West, Indian Museum and Encampment. Pawnee Bill and Buffalo Bill Cody merged their shows in 1908. I’ve seen a number of Pawnee Bill checks, and this is an early one. $395.00. https://scripophily.net/buffalo-bills-wild-west-and-pawnee-bills-great-far-east-show-check-signed-by-pawnee-bill-annie-get-your-gun-musical-is-based-on-this-company-1912

Total Wreck Mining and Milling Co. Stock Certificate, Arizona Territory, 1882. What a great name! This certificate is signed by the company president, J. M. Requa, and secretary, John McMillan. Issued to Nathan R. Vail. Mint condition. The mine was established in southwest Arizona in 1879 and incorporated in New York. It was the top silver producer in it’s time. $795. https://scripophily.net/total-wreck-mining-and-milling-co-stock-certificate-arizona-territory-1882/

Rosebud Indian Mission stock certificate, Dakota Territory, 1888. Signed by the mission’s financial secretary, Charles W. Shelton. Biblical references in upper left and upper right corners. Uneven toning otherwise very fine. According to the September 1885 issue of The American Missionary, shares—i.e., donations—were sold at a dime apiece as a way to raise the $8,000 needed to build the mission, which would serve 8,000 Native kids. If a religious school could get its students to buy 300 shares, they’d receive a large certificate, suitable for framing, to put up on their wall—and they could nominate a life member of the American Missionary Association for every additional 300 shares they bought. This share was issued to a William Taylor. $495. https://scripophily.net/rosebud-indian-mission-dakota-1888/

Remington typewriter vignette.

Remington Standard Typewriter letter from the Chicago office to the cashier of the First National Bank of Helena, Montana, 1887. The Remington firearms company started producing typewriters in 1873. This letter will be of interest to typewriter collectors (like actor Tom Hanks, who has more than 300 of them), letterhead collectors, as well as Montana buffs. Great vignette of an old-timey typewriter—presumably state-of-the-art in the late 1880s. $139.95. https://scripophily.net/remington-standard-typewriter-montana-1887/

Oregon and Transcontinental Company signed by George Pullman of the Pullman Palace Car Company,  1881. Printed by the American Banknote Company, with a vignette of Indians overlooking the unchanging and changing landscape: “oceans, rivers, mountains, farms, towns, miners and trains.”

Oregon and Transcontinental Company vignette.

(No doubt intended to illustrate progress but a sad representation of the vanishing frontier.) Issued to George Pullman and signed by him on the verso. $295. https://scripophily.net/oregon-and-transcontinental-company-signed-by-george-pullman-pullman-palace-car-company-1881/

All images courtesy of Scripophily.com.

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Why I bid by phone

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This article appeared in slightly different form on WorthPoint in 2019.

Art auction at Christie’s, New York, by Bernard Gotfryd, November 18, 1981. The painting is Primeval Landscape by William Baziotes, which was used as the cover illustration for the auction catalog. Image courtesy of Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division Washington, D.C.

I’m always surprised when an item comes up for auction and the bidding goes through the roof two weeks before the closing date. Maybe it’s a contest of egos, like T. rexes (their brains the size of walnuts) fighting over a piece of carrion, with the winner roaring in triumph as the losers stomp away.

Rational bidders, however, want to commit the least amount of money to winning an auction, and that means exercising self-restraint. So it makes sense not to start a bidding war. Mindless counterbidding only amps up the competition, like throwing chum to sharks. Better to let someone else have the high bid for as long as possible: they may become complacent or forget about the auction altogether, giving you the chance to win with a last-minute “stealth” bid. Or you yourself may have second thoughts about how high to go—or even whether to bid. By waiting, you keep your options open.

My advice is: Apart from eBay—where an early bid (again, keep it low) should prevent a seller from considering “Buy It Now” offers—don’t bid in an online auction until the last possible moment.

But not all auctions are online only: Many auction houses, large and small—even those that use online bidding platforms like LiveAuctioneers and Invaluable—still hold traditional in-person auctions with live telephone bidding on their premises in tandem with live online bidding. Or the online bidding portions of their auctions may close before the live “cattle rattle” begins.

That’s why phone bidding is well worth the effort: If you can’t fly out to, say, Hooterville (or the nearest county with an airport) and bid with the locals in someone’s barn, then phone bidding is the next best thing. There’s even the bonus of a lower buyer’s premium than the bidding platforms charge—what Mr. Ziffel and his clever pig, Arnold, would pay by bidding from the floor. (Bear in mind, though, that you may have to arrange for third-party shipping if the auctioneer doesn’t handle it in-house.)

It makes sense not to start a bidding war. Mindless counterbidding only amps up the competition, like throwing chum to sharks. Better to let someone else have the high bid for as long as possible: they may become complacent or forget about the auction altogether . . .

With phone bidding, someone on-site will call you several lots before your item comes up and serve as your eyes and ears in the auction room, asking you if you want to continue if you are outbid by someone in the room, a previously placed absentee bid, or another phone bidder. In my experience, the smaller the auction house and the more out-of-the-way it is, the less competition you can expect from the people actually attending.

But there are other reasons why I prefer to bid by phone, even if an auctioneer has simultaneous live online bidding along with on-site, in-person bidding:

  • You may experience a computer glitch. Just as on eBay, a server problem or a lost Internet connection can mean you’re out of the running. In one case, even with my Internet connection fully functioning, my bid on one of the big auction platforms didn’t register in the final moments, and I lost an item I probably would have won.
  • Some auctioneers give preference to in-person bidders. Suppose you leave an absentee bid on an online bidding platform: Surely the auctioneer will give it priority over an equal bid by someone in the auction room—a bid made hours or days after you placed yours—right? Not necessarily. I actually thought I had won an item—the winning bid was the same as the absentee bid I’d left earlier—only to learn that the auctioneer had awarded it to somebody sitting ten feet away. (House policy, he said.)
  • An auctioneer may fail to check the highest bids on the online auction platform they use. Maybe they’re new to online bidding, or maybe they’re just distracted, but an auctioneer may award a lot to a lower in-person bid just because they neglect to confirm what the highest absentee bid was. In one case it was mine.
  • You may think you won an item during live online bidding, only to see the bidding reopened. That happened to me once as well: One of my favorite auction houses started using a live online bidding system that still had some kinks in it and I won an item at a low price—even saw a message saying I had won the lot—then stepped away from my computer, only to return to find that the bidding had resumed in my absence and I had lost the item. When I complained, the auctioneer claimed that reopening an auction for delayed bids is common industry practice. Whether that’s true or not, I don’t think it would have played out the same way if I had been bidding by phone.

But beware: Even phone bidding is not error-free. In one case, I and my proxy bidder on the other end of the line were waiting for my lot to come up—and the bid caller skipped it. Apparently, he decided to award it to an absentee bidder without realizing that a phone bidder was waiting to join the auction. Needless to say, my proxy bidder and I were both stunned. There was a happy ending, though: I immediately raised the issue with the auction house—with the very person who had arranged for me to bid by phone (always get their name!)—and she notified the auctioneer, who awarded me the item for the next bid increment.

The upshot: Before bidding in an auction, read the terms carefully, including the ways you can bid. If phone bidding is available, and you have reliable telephone service, you might consider it. It takes a little planning—you must register ahead of time and be available to speak with the proxy when your lot comes up, even if it’s at an odd hour—but it’s well worth the effort.