"Sixty!" said Tom quietly.
"Here, you—" began the red-haired lad. "You—"
"That will do!" exclaimed the auctioneer sternly. "I am offered a hundred and sixty. Now who will give me an advance? I want to get the boat up to two hundred, and then the real bidding will begin."
Tom's heart sank. He hoped it would be some time before a two hundred dollar offer would be heard. As for Andy Foger, he was almost speechless with rage. He shook off the restraining arm of Sam, and, worming his way to the front of the throng, exclaimed:
"I'll give a hundred and seventy-five dollars for that boat!"
"Good!" cried the auctioneer. "That's the way to talk. I'm offered a hundred and seventy-five."
"Eighty," said Tom quietly, though his heart was beating fast.
"Well, of all—" began Andy, but Sam Snedecker dragged him back.
"You haven't got any more money," said the bully's crony. "Better stop now."
"I will not! I'm going home for more," declared Andy. "I must have that boat."