A seedy-looking chap touched me on the arm.
"I beg pardon," said he, "but I hope you won't bid against me on this here chest."
"And why?" I asked, getting my back up at once.
"Because, you see, I used to be a coachman for the family, and when they busted up they owed me a part of my wages."
"Oh, yes, and now you think there may be a bonanza for you here. Well, I guess the track's free to all, and I've taken a fancy to that chest myself," I said, firmly.
He shook his head and looked angry.
The box was put up the next thing.
I've often thought that queer.