I said to Ben: “What’ll you bet?”
The door opened and Stokes came in. He had a long gray raincoat on and it made him look even taller and thinner than he was. He stood in the doorway looking mostly at the old man; then he came in and sat down on a corner of the table.
I said: “Now that the class is all here, you can start bidding.”
The old man laughed deep in his throat. Stokes was watching me expressionlessly, and Ben sat smiling stupidly at his hands.
“I’m auctioning off the best little town in the state, gentlemen,” I went on. “Best schools, sewage system, post-office... Best street-lighting, water supply...”
I was having a swell time.
The old man was staring malevolently at Stokes. “I’ll give you twenty-five thousand dollars,” he said to me, “to give me that pistol and get out of here.”
If I’d thought there was any chance of collecting, I might have talked to him. Things happen that way sometimes.
I looked at my watch and put the gun down on the arm of the chair where it looked best and picked up the phone.
I asked Ben: “Where’s the business going to be pulled off tonight?”