The crowd in the Paradise had flocked out into the street and oozed along the front of the building, while the stranger now leaned carelessly against his own horse, critically looking over the one on sale. Fisher, uneasy and worried, squirmed close at hand and glanced covertly from his horse and saddle to the guns in the belts on the members of the crowd.
It was the stranger who broke the silence: “Two bits I bid—two bits,” he said, very quietly, whereat the crowd indulged in a faint snicker and a few nudges.
The marshal looked at him and then ignored him. “How much, gentlemen?” he asked, facing the crowd again.
“Two bits,” repeated the stranger, as the crowd remained silent.
“Two bits!” yelled the marshal, glaring at him angrily: “Two bits! Why, the look in this cayuse's eyes is worth four! Look at the spirit in them eyes, look at the intelligence! The saddle alone is worth a clean forty dollars of any man's money. I am out here to sell this animal to the highest bidder; the sale's begun, an' I want bids, not jokes. Now, who'll start it off?” he demanded, glancing around; but no one had anything to say except the terse stranger, who appeared to be getting irritated.
“You've got a starter—I've given you a bid. I bid two bits—t-w-o b-i-t-s, twenty-five cents. Now go ahead with yore auction.”
The marshal thought he saw an attempt at humor, and since he was feeling quite happy, and since he knew that good humor is conducive to good bidding, he smiled, all the time, however, racking his memory for the name of the humorist. So he accepted the bid: “All right, this gentleman bids two bits. Two bits I am bid—two bits. Twenty-five cents. Who'll make it twenty-five dollars? Two bits—who says twenty-five dollars? Ah, did you say twenty-five dollars?” he snapped, leveling an accusing and threatening fore-finger at the man nearest him, who squirmed restlessly and glanced at the stranger. “Did you say twenty-five dollars?” he shouted.
The stranger came to the rescue. “He did not. He hasn't opened his mouth. But I said twenty-five cents,” quietly observed the humorist.
“Who'll gimme thirty? Who'll gimme thirty dollars? Did I hear thirty dollars? Did I hear twenty-five dollars bid? Who said thirty dollars? Did you say twenty-five dollars?”
“How could he when he was talking politics to the man behind him?” asked the stranger. “I said two bits,” he added complacently, as he watched the auctioneer closely.