He wound it up, sent out its silvery call once or twice for the edification of the crowd about him, hoping to sell it off to someone, and then, there being no purchaser, with a disappointed grunt slipped it into his pocket.

"Number 529," announced Bart a few minutes later--"the last package, gentlemen!"

The crowd was dispersing, Darry was counting up the heap of bank notes and coin in the cash box, Bob was gloating and wild with delight as uncovering his purchase he brought to light a new bicycle.

The package Bart tendered was thin and flat. Two tough pieces of cardboard held it stiff and straight. It seemed to contain papers of some kind, and so many bidders had bought old deeds, contracts, plans, ma.n.u.scripts and the like, utterly valueless to them, that the lot hung at twenty-five cents for several minutes.

"Come, come, gentlemen!" urged Bart--"the last may be the best. The charges are sixty-five cents. Sender's name not given. Directed to 'A.A.

Adams, Pleasantville'--not found."

"Hoo! S--s--say!"

Bart experienced something of a shock.

The familiar cry of the ex-roustabout, Mr. Baker, rang out sharp and sudden.

Glancing at him, Bart saw that he had arisen to his feet.

His face was bloodless and twitching, his whole frame a-quake. His eyes were snapping wildly. He was like a man who could hardly speak or stand, and fairly on the verge of a fit.

A wavering finger he pointed at the young auctioneer, and gasped out.

"One dollar--two--three!"

CHAPTER XXIV

MR. BAKER'S BID

The att.i.tude, actions and announcement of the mysterious Mr. Baker filled Bart Stirling with profound surprise and wonderment.

The young express agent well knew the erratic temperment of his singular friend, but Baker had been so placid and natural up to the present moment, and this excitable outburst was so vivid and unaccountable, that Bart felt sure that there was some important reason for the same.

All eyes were now fixed on Baker. He seemed to put a dramatic climax to a varied entertainment, and appeared unconscious of everything except the package Bart held in his hand. His eyes were fixed upon this steadfastly--they seemed to burn right into it.

Lem Wacker had also arisen to his feet. Bart noticed him intently studying Baker, sidling up to him and sinking to the bench directly next to him.

There was a suspiciousness in the action that enhanced Bart's interest and curiosity, but he preserved his composure.

"Three dollars, did you say?" he inquired, in an insinuating and soothing, but strictly business tone.

"Yes!" gasped out Baker.

"I am bid--"

"Four."

Bart looked fixedly at Lem Wacker, for it was he who had spoken. Darry Haven dropped the cover of the cash box, and also stared at Wacker.

There was something suggestive in the sensation of the moment.

Lem Wacker's face was as bold as bra.s.s. He was dressed pretty well and looked prosperous, and there was a mean sneer on his lips as he shamelessly returned the glance of the boy he had wronged, defiantly relying, apparently, on some reserved power he fancied he possessed.

Baker did not even look at the rival bidder. His very soul seemed centered on the package in Bart's hand.

"Five," he uttered with an effort--"six, seven!"

"Eight," said Wacker calmly, striking a cigarette between his lips.

"Ten."

"Twelve."

Baker was silent. A frightful spasm crossed his face. He swayed from side to side. Then, grasping at the bench rails to steady himself, he came up to the platform.

"Stirling!" he panted hoa.r.s.ely, "I have no more money, but I must--must have that package! Lend me--"

"Whatever you wish," answered Bart promptly.

"Fifteen dollars!" said Baker.

Lem Wacker jumped to his feet, excited. He shot a hand into a pocket, drew it out again holding a pocketbook, ran over its contents, and shouted!

"Sixteen dollars!"

"Twenty!" cried Baker.

"I am offered twenty dollars," said Bart, outwardly cool as a cuc.u.mber, inwardly greatly perturbed over the incident in hand, and hastening to close it in favor of a friend. "Twenty dollars once, twenty dollars twice--"

"Stop!" yelled Lem Wacker.

"Do you bid more?" asked Bart.

"I--I do!"

"How much?"

"Double--treble--if I have to!" retorted Wacker. "Only I want you to wait until I can get the cash. I have only sixteen dollars with me--I can get a hundred and sixty in two minutes, I--"

"Terms strictly cash," said Bart simply. "Going, going, at twenty dollars--"

"Hold on! Don't you dare!" raved Wacker, swinging his arms about like a windmill. "I demand that this sale be suspended until I can get further funds."

"Twenty dollars--gone!" sung out Bart in the same business tone, "and sold to--cash."

With a sigh of relief and weakness Baker swayed sideways to a bench, first extending to Darry Haven with a shaking hand a little roll of bills.