"Gaze upon it, gentlemen!" cried the auctioneer enthusiastically.
"Did you ever see the like of this grand war canoe? History
in every line of it! Picture to yourselves the bygone days in
which such a canoe, filled with painted braves, stole along in
the shadows fringing the bank of some noble stream. Portray to
your own minds such a marauding band stealing down stream upon
some settlement, there to fall upon our hardy pioneers and put
them to the death!"
"I'm glad I'm living now, instead of in those days," called a
man from the crowd, raising a laugh.
"Gentlemen, before you are through," suggested the auctioneer,
"one of you will be the proud and happy possessor of this magnificent
war canoe. It is a priceless gem, especially when considered
in the light of good old American history. Now, who will start
the bidding? Who will say, clearly and distinctly, thirty dollars?"
"We're not brave enough in these days!" called a voice from the
crowd.
"That's right, friends---have fun with me," retorted the perspiring
auctioneer. "But don't let this valuable, beautiful trophy get
away from you."
Yet, though the auctioneer labored for a full five minutes he
couldn't raise a bid.
"Take it away! Take it back!" ordered the auctioneer wearily.
"I was in hopes it would appeal to the artistic sense of this
town, but it doesn't! Take it away."
"If no one else wants it," drawled Dick Prescott, "I'll offer
two dollars.
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