Part 13 (1/2)
”Two hundred dollars!” His voice sounded like the squeak in a telephone receiver.
The auctioneer cupped his hand behind his ear and leaned forward:
”What?”
The incredulity in his tone prompted Wallie to raise the bid to two hundred and twenty-five when he repeated it.
The auctioneer struck his forehead with his clenched fist and staggered back dramatically, demanding:
”Am I insulted?”
”That ain't possible,” croaked a voice among the spectators.
”Two hundred and fifty!” The bid came from a ministerial-looking person who was known as a kind of veterinary occasionally employed by Canby.
”Three hundred!” Wallie challenged him.
”That's more like it, but still an insult to these n.o.ble brutes I'm selling. Who says three and a quarter?”
”And a quarter!” came from the veterinary.
”And a quarter--and a quarter--gentlemen, what ails you?” He looked at the ”bone and sinew of the nation,” who prodded each other.
”Three hundred and fifty,” Wallie responded.
”Three-fifty! Boost her faster, gentlemen! Boost her right along! Am I offered four hundred?”
”Four hundred!” The bid was the veterinary's.
Wallie quavered:
”Four hundred and fifty!”
”Five hundred!” his opponent came back at him.
Wallie hesitated.
”Think of it! Going for five hundred!”
The auctioneer looked at Wallie, who could not have been paler in his coffin.
”Five twenty-five!”
”Good! Now, sir,” to the veterinary.
”Five-fifty!”
He turned to Wallie: