HARRISBURG -- At the end of rows cluttered with hulking agricultural contraptions, broad workbenches and heaps of rust and worn wood, The Jewel of The Auction lies on its side, obstructed from view.

At first blush, this particular lot in the auction is simply one of many catch-all crates filled with a smattering of 19th-century planks and buckets at the Pennsylvania Farm Show Complex yesterday.

Tucked in the back corner, however, is the item that many of the seasoned collectors here are salivating over.

The piece in question is a cast-iron figure of Uncle Sam, an antique mailbox fixture that includes a flag holder in the patriot's hand.

"Watch that piece," hinted Pete Frownfelter, the 50-year-old owner of Penn Avenue Trading Co. in Newport, Perry County. "That's what everybody's waiting for. I will not get it, but I will be close."

As the auctioneer scats a tune, 60 or 70 people who are milling around the items up for bid begin to crawl closer to the lot. In an auction coordinated by the Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission, the state is selling off unneeded inventory from historical museums across Pennsylvania.

The last such auction was in 2006. Commission spokesman Kirk Wilson said he didn't know yet how much the 300 items up for bid yesterday brought in, but he said they did not match the $11,000 raised last time.

An entire disassembled Conestoga wagon, its fragments strewn side-by-side, took up almost an entire row in this cavernous hall and fetched $300.

The victor for Uncle Sam, after a furious back-and-forth exchange, was Steve Still, who was bidding with a subtle but confident nod of his head. The total for the lot was $450, most of which was for Uncle Sam.

Mr. Still, 50, of Elizabethtown, Lancaster County, said that $450 isn't the most he's spent on an item. What's the most? "A lot more than that," he said.

He said he previewed the Uncle Sam piece when he arrived and estimated it to date back to 1890.

"I thought it would be less than [$450]," Mr. Still said with a laugh and a faint smirk. "But you never know."

Even though the auction crowd had shifted its attention to the next item, Mr. Frownfelter continued to marvel at the desirable cast-iron figure.

"That's the thing that was worth so much?" asked Frank Ember, 41, of Elizabethtown. "That thing there?"

"To me it would have been," Mr. Frownfelter explained. "It's Americana. How many of them are you gonna see?"

Mr. Ember was astonished.

"These went for like 30 bucks," he said, motioning to some towering 19th-century agricultural machines. "I'm not an antiques person, so I don't know."

Michael Baltozer, 43, of Lancaster, specializes in agricultural antiques and claimed the disassembled Conestoga wagon. He said he already owns "a couple" Conestogas.

Many of the pieces are "too far gone" to put the wagon back together, he said, and so he plans to keep some of the pieces and sell off the others.

Mr. Baltozer said he recognizes veteran dealers at the various auctions he attends each week, but he was reluctant to acknowledge any unspoken camaraderie among those in the know.

"Everybody's fighting to the death," he said. "Everybody wants a mailbox post. . . . The other stuff, they don't care who buys it. It's a dog-eat-dog world."

Matthew Spolar is an intern with the Pennsylvania Legislative Correspondents Association.