"Excuse me," the auctioneer corrected him blandly; "the gentleman at the far end of the room—I didn't catch his name—"
"Hunken," said 'Bias.
"Captain Hunken," prompted Mr Philp.
"Er—excuse me, Mr Middlecoat, but Captain Hunken has just offered a hundred-and-twenty."
"And thirty!" chimed Cai.
"Fifty!" intoned back the voice by the door.
Mr Middlecoat passed a hand over his brow. "Another ten," he murmured to the auctioneer. "Is there a boy handy? I—I want to send out a message?"
"Certainly, Mr Middlecoat," agreed the accommodating but bewildered auctioneer, and turned to his clerk.
"Mr Chivers, would you oblige?"
The young farmer scribbled a word or two on a piece of paper, which he
folded and gave to Mr Chivers with some hurried instruction; and Mr
Chivers steered his way out with agility. But meanwhile the bidding for
Barton's Orchard had risen to two hundred.