Nobody else looked as if they intended to dispute the matter, and lawyer Skinner began to think he would get his boat cheap enough, when a clear, strong, though somewhat boyish voice, capped the last bid with: “Sixteen!”
And all eyes were turned towards the newcomer, while Skinner growled:
“More boys? Come, now, this won’t do, Mr. What’s-your-name?”
“My name’s Cash,” quietly responded Bar Vernon, as the auctioneer went on with:
“Sixteen, sixteen! do I hear any more?”
“Seventeen!” said Skinner, raspishly.
“Twenty,” responded Bar; “let’s make it interesting.”
“Twenty-one,” shouted the now exasperated Skinner.
“Twenty-two!” said Bar, and even Zeb Fuller gave a shout of exultation and remarked:
“Skinner, my son, you’ve got to give full value for that ark if you get it. You ain’t so much in danger of drowning as you was.”