The possessions of accused Chester County swindler Tony Young were sold by the government yesterday, the value and volume proving that the rich really are different. Even if they're crooks.

What was up for auction? Pretty much anything that one could imagine. And lots of it.

There were enough tables, chests, and chairs to fill a furniture store; enough glass and stemware to stock a restaurant; enough cars, trucks, and trailers to start a motor pool. And that wasn't even the best stuff - which included impressionist art and a restored 1962 Triumph convertible sports car manufactured in Coventry, England.

"Everything he did was the biggest style," said a neighbor, Becky Lockerby, recalling Young's pheasant hunts and his polo ponies. And, she noted, "everyone who invested paid for it."

The auction was held to try to recoup money for ripped-off investors, though it was unclear how much would be raised. In the spring, Young was accused of a $23 million fraud that ensnared dozens in an area of Chester County known for old money, horses, and foxhunting.

The Securities and Exchange Commission filed a civil complaint against Young and his firm in April. He has not been charged in criminal court, but confessed to the fraud underlying the SEC complaint.

The SEC said Young, who is in his late 30s, had operated a Ponzi scheme through his investment partnership, using clients' money to "pay personal expenses related to horse ownership and racing, construction, boats, limousines, chartered aircraft, and other luxuries."

A federal receiver, former federal judge Louis Bechtle, has been dismantling the trappings of Young's lavish lifestyle, selling off goods and property in several states. So far, Bechtle estimates the return at $12 million - hefty, but far short of the $23 million lost by investors.

"This has been the talk of the neighborhood," said Herb Hogg, carrying a wooden chair away from the auction yesterday. His wife, Diane, said she had just spoken to some of Young's former clients, who were looking over his stuff. "They say it's the only way they'll get anything back."

The auction filled a field adjacent to Young's West Marlborough Township mansion, the peaks of white tents making it look as if the circus had come to town. And in a way, it had. Hundreds and hundreds of people roamed the grounds, inspecting property, placing bids, or just talking with friends. The Blue Ball Fire Company and Ladies Auxiliary sold hot dogs. Four portable restrooms stood back to back - after all, it was going to be a long day.

Rows of cars filled a makeshift parking lot and lined the grass by the roadside. Before long, the dirt road and walkways leading to the auction had turned to thick, clinging mud, deep enough to suck off shoes.

Who came to bid? Everyone. Guys in camouflage hunters' caps, their first names embroidered on the pockets of their work shirts, and women from the horsey set, in fashionable leather jackets and designer jeans. They checked out what seemed like an endless inventory:

A Royal Doulton water pitcher in the image of Winston Churchill. Five big stuffed birds, including a set of male and female pheasants. Motorcycles and dog crates, file cabinets and buckets, golf clubs, wheelbarrows, and a nine-foot-tall, inflatable Halloween cat. A box of CDs included the collected works of Kiss, Vol. 2.

"They got some nice rugs," one man said, considering a purchase of some Orientals. "But too small."

The contents of a wealthy life spilled across the grounds. A toolbox and tools to fill it. A rickshaw. A small trampoline. A big-screen LG TV and a small GE freezer. The Worst-Case Scenario Survival Game.

Camille Gracie, a Kirkwood interior designer, examined some of the furniture and art, considering purchases for herself and for clients.

"There are things that are interesting and beautiful, and would certainly be worth buying, but not at market price," she said. "It's part of being a smart shopper."

Tom Fanning, a New Holland lawyer, paid $25 for a bucket of hardly used golf balls.

"I knew there was some neat stuff coming up," he said, having checked out the auction in advance. He planned to make additional bids, maybe on toys for his kids. "Whatever's cheap," he said.

Above him rose the staccato voice of one of the auctioneers, calling out rapid-fire bids and numbers on the stuff around him. An exercise machine. Pilates conditioning balls. An air pump.

There was so much computer equipment, and furniture to put it on, that it looked as if Office Max was holding a yard sale. Cars and trucks? A few: A 2000 Land Rover, a Ford Super Duty Lariat, and a Dodge Ram. A John Deere mower and a John Deere tractor. A couple of giant horse trailers that Young once used to haul his polo ponies.

The prize was the green Triumph convertible, which drew admirers throughout the day.

Pat Phalan, a car collector and restorer from Arden, Del., said he happened to be there when Young bought the Triumph for $20,000. He liked the car, he said, but noticed flaws in the paint job. Did he think he'd try to take it home?

"If I can steal it," he said. "By steal, I mean $5,000. And I'll spend $5,000 more on a paint job and get it right."

The silver included candelabra and several serving bowls. The art included oils and watercolors. Among the books: the complete works of Robert Louis Stevenson.

"This is high-quality stuff," said Jeff Sharpless, a local furniture collector.

Young, a Unionville investment manager, owned the 57-acre Chester County property; a home in Palm Beach, Fla.; and another in Maine. Court documents show he collected $86.7 million from 71 investors, attracted by supposedly outsize returns from a fund founded in 2001.

As the auction went on, people wandered over to Young's mansion, with its giant, twin brick chimneys, the house and land valued at $3.5 million. The pool was covered, and the house was dark and locked. A Post-It note stuck to a door said, "Keep out."

Young, who told Fortune magazine that he was "very sorry about the investors who got hurt," is living in the Palm Beach house, which he purchased in 2006 for $2.1 million in cash - money taken from investors, according to a court document. People strolling around his Chester County manse yesterday admired its size and style.

The cozy, semi-enclosed patio features an outdoor fireplace. Yesterday, the hearth was filled with ashes.

Contact staff writer Jeff Gammage at 215-854-2415 or jgammage@phillynews.com.