"How high do you think I should go?" he asked of his friend and advisor.
"That depends on how badly you want them."
"They suit me exactly."
"Horses of that class are selling around $500, but you might venture a little more, since you like them."
"That's just about what I am able to pay. My goodness, but I hope I'm not outbid! You wouldn't believe how nervous I am. It's such a new experience that I am really agitated."
The statement was unnecessary, since Canby could see Wallie's knees trembling in his riding breeches.
"How much am I offered for this pair of magnificent young horses?" asked the auctioneer, ingratiatingly.
Wallie, who had not such a case of stage-fright since he first sang in public "Oh, that we two were Maying," bid instantly: "Two hundred dollars!" His voice sounded like the squeak in a telephone receiver.
The auctioneer cupped his hand behind his ear and leaned forward: "What?"
The incredulity in his tone prompted Wallie to raise the bid to two hundred and twenty-five when he repeated it.
The auctioneer struck his forehead with his clenched fist and staggered back dramatically, demanding: "Am I insulted?"
"That ain't possible," croaked a voice among the spectators.
"Two hundred and fifty!" The bid came from a ministerial-looking person who was known as a kind of veterinary occasionally employed by Canby.
"Three hundred!" Wallie challenged him.
"That's more like it, but still an insult to these noble brutes I'm selling. Who says three and a quarter?"
"And a quarter!" came from the veterinary.
"And a quarter--and a quarter--gentlemen, what ails you?" He looked at the "bone and sinew of the nation," who prodded each other.
"Three hundred and fifty," Wallie responded.
"Three-fifty! Boost her faster, gentlemen! Boost her right along! Am I offered four hundred?"
"Four hundred!" The bid was the veterinary's.
Wallie quavered: "Four hundred and fifty!"
"Five hundred!" his opponent came back at him.
Wallie hesitated.
"Think of it! Going for five hundred!"
The auctioneer looked at Wallie, who could not have been paler in his coffin.
"Five twenty-five!"
"Good! Now, sir," to the veterinary.
"Five-fifty!"
He turned to Wallie: "Am I done, gentlemen?"
Wallie stared at him, his throat too dry to answer.
"Must I give away the best pullin' team in the State for a puny, piddlin' five hundred and fifty dollars?" he pleaded.
"SIX HUNDRED!" Wallie cried in desperation.
With the bid Canby raised his hat and ran his fingers through his hair casually and the veterinary stopped bidding.
"Done!" cried the auctioneer, "Sold to Mr.--the name, please--ah, Macpherson, for six hundred dollars---- A bargain!"
Between relief and joy Wallie was speechless, while Canby congratulated him and the crowd bestowed upon him glances of either derision or commiseration, according to the nature of the individual.