“Hush, Matt!” pleaded the stenographer, catching him by the arm. “Do not say anything rash.”
“But, Miss Bartlett, this chap wants to force you into paying for something you didn’t do! I wouldn’t stand it! I’d fight him first!”
“You would, would you?” growled the auctioneer, his face growing dark and sour.
“Yes, I would!” retorted the boy defiantly. “I’m not afraid of you!”
“Say, that boy’s game!” laughed a bystander.
“Yes, a regular little bantam,” replied another.
“I’ll settle with you in a minute,” said the auctioneer, finding he could not silence Matt. “Now, madam, do you intend to pay for the damage done or not?”
“I did not do the damage, and I cannot see how you can ask me to pay,” faltered Ida Bartlett.
“I have proof that you let the piece of bric-a-brac fall.”