Uncle Henry couldn't stand it. While they raised each other's bids, he shot in between them and managed to say above the din, "And me—gettin' skinned not only out of my ten thousand, but a million dollars besides!"
"A hundred and fifty!" Pell was saying.
"A hundred and fifty-one!" the cautious Hardy added.
The face of Lopez was a study; but they were so excited that they did not look at him. Angela rushed to her father and clasped his arm when she heard his last raise. "That's right, father. Don't let him get it!"
"Don't worry," he reassured her, and patted her little hand, so warm on his arm. He turned to Pell. "You city fellers needn't think you can come down here and put it all over us."
"Nevertheless," said Morgan Pell, "I'll just bid a hundred and seventy-five thousand."
"Then I'll make it a hundred and eighty!" his antagonist stated.
Quick as a flash, "A hundred and ninety," Pell said.
"Two hundred, by darn!" yelled Hardy, furious now.
"Two hundred and—" Pell began; when Lopez, to their amazement, rapped on the table with his gun, as though he were an auctioneer and this his gavel, "Señors!" he shouted. "It is enough!"