Tom Swift and His Motor-Boat | Page 8

three
hundred dollars, at least. But I thank you all the same. We are coming
on. I'm bid eighty---"

"Ninety!" exclaimed the quiet man at Tom's elbow. He was continually
fingering his upper lip, as though he had a mustache there, but his face
was clean-shaven. He looked around nervously as he spoke.
"Ninety!" called out the auctioneer.
"Ninety-five!" returned Tom. Andy Foger scowled at him, but the
young inventor only smiled. It was evident that the bully did not relish
being bid against. He and his crony whispered together again.
"One hundred!" called Andy, as if no one would dare go above that.
"I'm offered an even hundred," resumed Mr. Wood. "We are certainly
coming on. A hundred I am bid, a hundred---a hundred--- a hundred---"
"And five," said the strange man hastily, and he seemed to choke as he
uttered the words.
"Oh, come now; we ought to have at least ten-dollar bids from now
on," suggested Mr. Wood. "Won't you make it a hundred and ten?" The
auctioneer looked directly at the man, who seemed to shrink back into
the crowd. He shook his head, cast a sort of despairing look at the boat
and hurried away.
"That's queer," murmured Tom. "I guess that was his limit, yet if he
wanted the boat badly that wasn't a high price."
"Who's going ahead of me?" demanded Andy in loud tones.
"Keep quiet!" urged Sam. "We may get it yet."
"Yes, don't make so many remarks," counseled the auctioneer. "I'm bid
a hundred and five. Will any one make it a hundred and twenty-five?"
Tom wondered why the man bad not remained to see if his bid was
accepted, for no one raised it at once, but he hurried off and did not
look back. Tom took a sudden resolve.
"A hundred and twenty-five!" he called out.

"That's what I like to hear," exclaimed Mr. Wood. "Now we are doing
business. A hundred and twenty-five from Tom Swift. Will any one
offer me fifty?"
Andy and Sam seemed to be having some dispute.
"Let's make him quit right now," suggested Andy in a hoarse whisper.
"You can't," declared Sam'
"Yes, I can. I'll go up to my limit right now."
"And some one will go above you---maybe Tom will," was Sam's
retort.
"I don't believe he can afford to," Andy came back with. "I'm going to
call his bluffs. I believe he's only bidding to make others think he wants
it. I don't believe he'll buy it."
Tom heard what was said, but did not reply. The auctioneer was calling
monotonously: "I'm bid a hundred and twenty-five---twenty- five. Will
any one make it fifty?"
"A hundred and fifty!" sang out Andy, and all eyes were directed
toward him.
"Sixty!" said Tom quietly.
"Here, you---" began the red-haired lad. You---"
"That will do!" exclaimed the auctioneer sternly. "I am offered a
hundred and sixty. Now who will give me an advance? I want to get the
boat up to two hundred, and then the real bidding will begin."
Tom's heart sank. He hoped it would be some time before a two
hundred dollar offer would be heard. As for Andy Foger, he was almost
speechless with rage. He shook off the restraining arm of Sam, and,
worming his way to the front of the throng, exclaimed:

"I'll give a hundred and seventy-five dollars for that boat!"
"Good!" cried the auctioneer. "That's the way to talk. I'm offered a
hundred and seventy-five."
"Eighty," said Tom quietly, though his heart was beating fast.
"Well, of all---" began Andy, but Sam Snedecker dragged him back.
"You haven't got any more money, " said the bully's crony. "Better stop
now."
"I will not! I'm going home for more," declared Andy. "I must have that
boat."
"It will be sold when you get back," said Sam.
"Haven't you got any money you can lend me?" inquired the squint-
eyed one, scowling in Tom's direction.
"No, not a bit. There, some one raised Tom's bid."
At that moment a man in the crowd offered a hundred and eighty-one
dollars.
"Small amounts thankfully received," said Mr. Wood with a laugh.
Then the bidding became lively, a number making one-dollar advances.
The price got up to one hundred and ninety-five dollars and there it
hung for several minutes, despite the eloquence of Mr. Wood, who
tried by all his persuasive powers to get a substantial advance. But
every one seemed afraid to bid. As for the young inventor, he was in a
quandary. He could only offer five dollars more, and, if he bid it in a
lump, some one might go to two hundred and five, and he would not
get the boat. He wished he had secured permission from his father to go
higher, yet he knew that as