"Five hundred and sixty!"
This, in a deep, harsh voice, from the midst of the crowd at the other end of the room. The people near by turned, and saw an old man, in a strange costume, supporting himself on crutches. He wore a long white beard, and blue spectacles. It was Herr Heartless, in disguise, and using a disguised voice.
"Good again! Going, going—one—"
"Six hundred!"
Sensation. The crowd raised a cheer, and some one cried out, "Go it, Green-patch!" This tickled the audience and a score of voices shouted, "Go it, Green-patch!"
"Going—going—going—third and last call—one—two—"
"Seven hundred!"
"Huzzah!—well done, Crutches!" cried a voice. The crowd took it up, and shouted altogether, "Well done, Crutches!"
"Splendid, gentlemen! you are doing magnificently. Going, going—"
"A thousand!"