“Ah, that is better—thank you. Now, fifty, fifty, fifty—who says seventy-five? I want seventy-five—fifty, fifty, fifty, fif—fif-tee, tee, t-e-e—what, no one here willing to pay more than fifty dollars for this bee-u—utiful bit of antique mahogany? Fif-fif-fif—Ah!”
Eleanor swallowed hard, half-stood up, and the auctioneer caught her eye at last. He smiled, acknowledged her expression, and now called:
“Seventy-five! I now have seventy-five, seven, seven, sev-sev-seventy—seventy-fi-ifvvve! I have seventy-five dollars for this wonderful mahogany bed that is really worth seven hundred dollars in any store to-day. And I only have seventy-five dollars bid. Seven-tee——”
Again Eleanor half-stood up and this time she managed to say “One hundred, please!”
“Thank you, young lady—you certainly understand fine furniture. I am now offered one hundred dollars by one who knows the value of this bed—one hundred, one hundred—hundred—one, h-u-ndred dollars offered—who will give a hundred and ten—only ten more gets it?”
Polly was so amazed when Eleanor said “One hundred dollars” that she giggled hysterically; but not wishing to have her friend brag how “she bid at this auction and her friends were too shy,” Polly looked anxiously at the auctioneer. He saw that look and understood.
“Don’t hesitate, young lady. You know ‘he who hesitates is lost’—in this case, loses a great bargain. If you wish to bid, never fear competing with a friend. In this business there are no friends—all men are strangers. Shall I say one hundred and ten for you?”
Polly nodded eagerly and smiled broadly at Eleanor. The two girls were so delighted with themselves at daring to speak out so bravely in a city like New York that they failed to realize the auctioneer had knocked down the bed to Polly.
“This young lady in front. I must say she appreciates fine furniture!” declared the suave auctioneer to everyone in general.
“W-h-y, Pol—le-ee! Is that your bed?” gasped Mrs. Stewart.