Having finished this reading, the sheriff took a sip from the glass supposed to hold water, and promptly began—
“You all know the property, gentlemen, so I need not detain you by any lengthy description of it. How much am I offered for Armstrong’s ranch?”
“Three thousand dollars,” said Ricketts.
“Five thousand,” promptly outbid the Earl of Stranleigh.
There was a buzz of interest in the crowd, as if some one had stirred up a nest of bees. They had not expected competition. Ricketts stood up and scrutinised the numerous faces turned towards him, endeavouring to discover from whom the bid came. Then he sat down, and whispered to each of the men beside him. They nodded, and one of them stole quietly out through the door by which the sheriff had entered.
“He’s gone for more money,” said Stranleigh quietly to Armstrong.
“Five thousand dollars I am bid,” went on the sheriff. “Is there any advance on five thousand dollars?”
His gavel hovered over the table.
“Six thousand,” said Ricketts.
“Ten thousand,” offered Stranleigh, realising that his opponent was playing for time.