“Strellenhaus—Mr. Strellenhaus of Liverpool.”
“It’s a new firm,” said Dodds’s neighbour. “I thought I knew them all, but I never heard of him before.”
The salesman’s head had disappeared, for he was whispering with the breeder. Now he suddenly straightened himself again. “Thank you for giving us a lead, sir,” said he. “Now, gentlemen, you have heard the offer of Mr. Strellenhaus of Liverpool. It will give us a base to start from. Mr. Strellenhaus has offered twenty pounds a head.”
“Guineas,” said Holloway.
“Bravo, Mr. Holloway! I knew that you would take a hand. You are not the man to let such a string of horses pass away from you. The bid is twenty guineas a head.”
“Twenty-five pounds,” said Mr. Strellenhaus.
“Twenty-six.”
“Thirty.”
It was London against Liverpool, and it was the head of the trade against an outsider. Still, the one man had increased his bids by fives and the other only by ones. Those fives meant determination and also wealth. Holloway had ruled the market so long that the crowd was delighted at finding someone who would stand up to him.
“The bid now stands at thirty pounds a head,” said the salesman. “The word lies with you, Mr. Holloway.”