"Ten tollars," pronounced the other, pulling out a fat pocketbook.
"Gentlemen," said Frank. "I have made up my mind. You must start your real bids at double that, or I cannot entertain an offer."
"Yesh," cried Moss eagerly—"twenty tollars."
"Und a kee-varter!" howled his rival.
"Un a hal-luf!"
"Tage it!" roared Moss, weaving his cane in impotent rage, and turned away disgusted.
"Of course you gif me four per cent, discount for cash?" demanded the successful bidder.
"Of course I shall not," dissented Frank. "Shall I call back Mr. Moss? No? Thanks,—that is correct, twenty dollars and fifty cents. Here is a receipt.
Frank felt that he had closed an exceptionally good sale. Within half-an-hour the wagons were started on their way for Greenville.
