MR. BAKER'S BID
The attitude, actions and announcement of the mysterious Mr. Baker
filled Bart Stirling with profound surprise and wonderment.
The young express agent well knew the erratic temperment of his singular
friend, but Baker had been so placid and natural up to the present
moment, and this excitable outburst was so vivid and unaccountable, that
Bart felt sure that there was some important reason for the same.
All eyes were now fixed on Baker. He seemed to put a dramatic climax to
a varied entertainment, and appeared unconscious of everything except
the package Bart held in his hand. His eyes were fixed upon this
steadfastly--they seemed to burn right into it.
Lem Wacker had also arisen to his feet. Bart noticed him intently
studying Baker, sidling up to him and sinking to the bench directly next
to him.
There was a suspiciousness in the action that enhanced Bart's interest
and curiosity, but he preserved his composure.
"Three dollars, did you say?" he inquired, in an insinuating and
soothing, but strictly business tone.
"Yes!" gasped out Baker.
"I am bid--"
"Four."
Bart looked fixedly at Lem Wacker, for it was he who had spoken. Darry
Haven dropped the cover of the cash box, and also stared at Wacker.
There was something suggestive in the sensation of the moment.
Lem Wacker's face was as bold as brass. He was dressed pretty well and
looked prosperous, and there was a mean sneer on his lips as he
shamelessly returned the glance of the boy he had wronged, defiantly
relying, apparently, on some reserved power he fancied he possessed.
Baker did not even look at the rival bidder. His very soul seemed
centered on the package in Bart's hand.
"Five," he uttered with an effort--"six, seven!"
"Eight," said Wacker calmly, striking a cigarette between his lips.
"Ten."
"Twelve."
Baker was silent. A frightful spasm crossed his face. He swayed from
side to side. Then, grasping at the bench rails to steady himself, he
came up to the platform.
"Stirling!" he panted hoarsely, "I have no more money, but I must--must
have that package! Lend me--"
"Whatever you wish," answered Bart promptly.
"Fifteen dollars!" said Baker.
Lem Wacker jumped to his feet, excited. He shot a hand into a pocket,
drew it out again holding a pocketbook, ran over its contents, and
shouted!
"Sixteen dollars!"
"Twenty!" cried Baker.
"I am offered twenty dollars," said Bart, outwardly cool as a cucumber,
inwardly greatly perturbed over the incident in hand, and hastening to
close it in favor of a friend. "Twenty dollars once, twenty dollars
twice--"
"Stop!" yelled Lem Wacker.
"Do you bid more?" asked Bart.
"I--I do!"
"How much?"
"Double--treble--if I have to!" retorted Wacker. "Only I want you to
wait until I can get the cash. I have only sixteen dollars with me--I
can get a hundred and sixty in two minutes, I--"
"Terms strictly cash," said Bart simply. "Going, going, at twenty
dollars--"
"Hold on! Don't you dare!" raved Wacker, swinging his arms about like a
windmill. "I demand that this sale be suspended until I can get further
funds."
"Twenty dollars--gone!" sung out Bart in the same business tone, "and
sold to--cash."
With a sigh of relief and weakness Baker swayed sideways to a bench,
first extending to Darry Haven with a shaking hand a little roll of
bills.
"Charge me with the balance," said Bart quickly to his assistant, in a
low tone.
"You've no right!" raved Lem Wacker loudly, shaking his fist at Bart,
and in a passion of uncontrollable rage. "You'll suffer for this! I
protest against this sale--I demand that you do not deliver that
package, you young snob! you--"
Lem Wacker was getting abusive. He pranced about like a mad bull.
A heavy hand dropped suddenly on his collar, McCarthy, the watchman,
gave him a shove towards the door.
"No talk of that kind allowed here," he remarked grimly. "Get out, or
I'll fire you out!"
As Wacker disappeared through the doorway, Bart leaned from the
platform.
"Here is your package, Mr. Baker," he said. "What is the trouble--are
you ill?"
Baker struggled to his feet. He was in a pitiable state of agitation and
nervousness.
"No! no!" he panted, "you keep the package--for a time. Till--till I
explain. I've got it! I've got it at last!" he quavered in an exultant
tone. "Air--I'm choking! I--I'll be back soon--"
He rushed to the door overcome, like a man on the verge of a fit.
Bart started to follow him. Just then, however, one of the recent
bidders came up to ask some question about a purchase which required
that Bart consult the record book.
When he had disposed of the matter, Bart hurried to the outside. Baker
was nowhere in sight.