Come
now," cried the Captain, glancing round the yard, "who'll buy him?
B'gad! who'll give ten pounds for an accursed brute that nobody can
possibly ride?"
"I will!" said Barnabas.
"Fifteen, sir!" cried the shabby man on the instant, with his gaze
still on the horse.
"Twenty!" said Barnabas, like an echo.
"Twenty-five, sir!" retorted the shabby man.
"Hey?" cried the Captain, staring from one to the other. "What's all
this? B'gad! I say stop a bit--wait a minute! Bob, lend me your
bucket."
Hereupon the Corinthian obligingly vacating that article. Captain
Slingsby incontinent stood upon it, and from that altitude began to
harangue the yard, flourishing his whip after the manner of an
auctioneer's hammer.
"Now here you are, gentlemen!" he cried. "I offer you a devilishly
ugly, damnably vicious brute, b'gad! I offer you a four-legged demon,
an accursed beast that nobody can ever hope to ride--a regular terror,
curse me! Killed one groom already, will probably kill another. Now,
what is your price for this lady's pet? Look him over and bid
accordingly."
"Twenty-five pound, sir," said the shabby man.
Pages:
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261