Tom Swift and His Motor-Boat | Page 8

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 a fair proposition two hundred dollars was about all the motor- boat in its present condition was worth, at least to him. Then he made a sudden resolve. He thought he might as well have the suspense over.
"Two hundred dollars!" he called boldly.
"I'm offered two hundred!" repeated Mr. Wood. "That is something like it. Now who will raise that?"
There was a moment of silence. Then the auctioneer swung into an enthusiastic description of the boat. He begged for an advance, but none was made, though Tom's heart seemed in his throat, so afraid was he that he would not get the CARLOPA.
"Two hundred---two hundred!" droned on Mr. Wood. "I am offered two hundred. Will any of you go any higher?" He paused a moment, and Tom's heart beat harder than ever. "If not," resumed the speaker, "I will declare the bidding closed. Are you all done? Once---twice---three times. Two hundred dollars. Going---going-- -gone!" He clapped his hands. "The boat is sold to Thomas Swift for two hundred dollars. If he'll step up I'll take his money."
There was a laugh as Tom, blushingly,