“Take my advice and bid him up, Mrs. Harrison,” said Harris, with a wink. “He knows more about this old desk than he ought to, it seems to me.”
“For the land’s sake—” began the widow; but Spink burst forth in a rage:
“I’ll make ye a last offer for it–you can take it or leave it.” He drew forth a wad of bills and peeled off several into the widow’s hand.
“There’s fifty dollars. Is the desk mine?” he fairly yelled.
The vociferous speech of the professor drew people from the auction. They gathered around. Harris nodded to the old lady, and her hand clamped upon the bills.
“Remember, this is Mrs. Harrison’s own money,” said young Colesworth, evenly. “The desk was bought at auction for two dollars.”
“Well, is it mine?” demanded Spink.
“It is yours, Jud Spink,” replied the old lady, stuffing the money into her handbag.
“Gimme that hatchet!” cried the professor, seizing the implement from a man who stood by. He attacked the old desk in a fury.
“Oh! that’s too bad!” gasped Mrs. Harrison. “I did want the old thing.”