“Sixteen thousand,” cried Ricketts, taking out a handkerchief, and mopping his brow.
The missing man now re-appeared, and took his place beside the lawyer. The three heads came closer together, and Stranleigh watched them with half-closed eyes, apparently indifferent.
“The bid is against you, sir,” said the Sheriff. “By the way, what name, please?”
“Stranleigh.”
“Well, Mr. Stranleigh, I’m waiting for your bid.”
“Don’t wait any longer, Mr. Sheriff. I’m anxious to know how much money Mr. Ricketts possesses at the present moment. The ranch belongs to him if he can hand over to you sixteen thousand dollars.”
Down came the gavel on the table.
“Mr. Ricketts, the ranch is yours.”
Mr. Ricketts rose to his feet.