"
"Thank you for good intentions, anyway," replied the salesman
on the platform. "Two dollars I'm bid. Who says ten? Now, do
wake up, friends!"
But the bidding lagged.
"This beautiful war canoe!" cried the auctioneer desperately.
"It was the pride of the show. A real Indian canoe, equipped
with gunwale seats and six Indian paddles. And only two dollars
offered. Gentlemen, do I hear three? No! Last call! It's
pitiful---two dollars!"
Dick Prescott and all his friends were now in the seventh heaven of
prospective delight. It seemed unreal, that they could get this
treasure for any such sum.
"If I must do it, I must," groaned the auctioneer. "Two I'm offered.
Does anyone say more. Make it four! No? Make it three! No?
Last call! Going, going-----"
In another instant the big war canoe would have been knocked down
to young Prescott at two dollars. Dick was "all on edge," though
he strove to conceal the fact.
"At two dollars, then!" groaned the auctioneer. "Two dollars!
All right, then. Going, going-----"
Just then the word "gone" would have been uttered, and the canoe
gone to Dick & Co.
"Three dollars!" called Fred Ripley.
There was a pause, while the auctioneer exhorted the crowd to
wake up.
"Four," said young Prescott, at last, but he spoke with pretended
indifference.
"Five," chimed in a man who now seemed to take an interest. The
bidding now went up slowly, a dollar at a time, with these three
bidders, until twelve dollars was reached.
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