Read Ebook: The High School Boys' Canoe Club by Hancock H Irving Harrie Irving

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Ebook has 1903 lines and 49674 words, and 39 pages

THE "SPLENDID" WAR CANOE

"It's the wreck of one of the grandest enterprises ever conceived by the human mind!" complained Colonel W.P. Grundy, in a voice broken with emotion.

A group of small boys grinned, though they offered no audible comment.

On a nearby lot stood a large show tent, so grayed and frayed, so altogether dingy as to suggest that it had seen some summers of service ere it became briefly the property of Colonel Grundy.

Near the entrance to the tent a temporary platform had been built of the board seats taken from the interior of the tent.

Near the platform stood a grim-visaged deputy sheriff, conversing with an auctioneer on whose face the grin had become chronic.

Some distance from the tent stood a group of perhaps forty men of the town of Gridley.

"The whole outfit of junk won't bring five hundred dollars," predicted one of these men. "How much did you say the judgments total?"

"Seventeen thousand four hundred dollars," replied another. "But the man who attached the show has a claim for only six hundred and forty dollars, so he may get most of his money."

Here the auctioneer stopped talking with the deputy sheriff long enough to go over to the platform, pick up a bell and ring it vigorously. A few more stragglers came up, most of them boys without any money in their pockets.

Off at one side of the lot six boys stood by themselves, talking in low tones, casting frequent, earnest glances toward the platform.

These youngsters were Dick Prescott, Dave Darrin, Greg Holmes, Tom Reade, Dan Dalzell and Harry Hazelton. Collectively they were known in the boydom of Gridley as Dick & Co.

The present narrative deals with all that happened in the vacation after Dick Prescott and his friends had finished their freshman year. The summer now lay before them for whatever might come to them in the way of work and pleasure. Though none of the six yet knew it, the summer was destined to bring to them the fullest measure of wonder and excitement.

And now let us get back to Dick & Co., that we may see just what befell them.

"Pshaw! There comes Fred Ripley," exclaimed Harry Hazelton.

"And he probably has a few ten dollar bills in his pockets," remarked Greg Holmes, rather enviously. "He will buy something."

Fred Ripley, as readers of "The High School Freshmen" remember, was the son of a wealthy local lawyer, and a bitter enemy to Dick Prescott and his friends.

"Fred just came here to buy something and then look at us with his superior smile," grunted Hazelton. "What do you say if we all walk away before the bidding begins?"

"Then Rip would grin," returned Tom Reade. "He'd know just why we went away. I came here to see what's going to happen, and I won't be chased away from here by Fred Ripley."

"Let's see if Fred can have any real fun with us," proposed Dick, with a quiet smile.

"He can have fun enough with us, if he guesses why we are really here," Dave Darrin uttered resentfully. "Ripley seems to think that money is made and supplied to him just in order that he may rub gall and wormwood into those whom he doesn't like!"

Fred kept well away from Dick & Co., though the six boys saw that he occasionally sent a covert look in their direction.

"Time to begin," said the deputy sheriff, after glancing at his watch.

Up to the platform jumped the auctioneer, bell in hand. Holding it with both hands he again rang vigorously for a full minute. The net result was to bring one shabby-looking man, two grammar school boys without a cent of money, and three children of not over four years of age into the lot.

"Ladies and gentlemen," began the auctioneer, in his glib tones, "we are presenting to-day a most unusual opportunity. Prizes will be distributed to many enterprising people of Gridley, though these prizes are all so valuable that I trust none of them will go for the traditional 'song.' It is seldom, indeed, in any community, however favored it may be in general, that such a diversified lot of excellent things is put under the hammer for purchase by discriminating buyers! As you all know, Colonel W.P. Grundy's Great & Colossal Indian Exposition & Aboriginal Life Delineations has met with one of the too-common disasters of the road. This great show enterprise must now be sold out in its entirety."

After an impressive pause, the silence was broken by a sob. Those in the crowd who were curious enough to turn, beheld the colonel with a handkerchief to his eyes, his shoulders heaving. Somehow the colonel's noisy grief failed to excite the sympathy of those assembled. It was suspected that the wrecked showman was playing for sympathy.

"Such a wealth of treasures is here offered," continued the auctioneer, "that for the first time in my career I confess myself unable to decide which article or lot to lay before you first."

"You said that last week at Templeton," laughed a man in the crowd. "Go on!"

Whereupon the auctioneer once more addressed his hearers in a burst of vocal fireworks.

"I wonder what Prescott and his mucker friends are here to bid on?" Fred Ripley was asking himself. "Whatever it is, if it's nothing that I want for myself I'll bid it up as high against them as I can. For, of course, they've pooled their funds for whatever they want to get. They can't put in more than a quarter apiece, so a dollar and a half is all I have to beat. I'll wager they already suspect that I'm here just to make things come higher for them. I hope they do suspect!"

It was just after the Fourth of July. The summer sun shone fiercely down upon the assemblage.

"Perhaps, first of all," announced the auctioneer, after pausing to take breath, "it will be the proper thing to do to offer the tent itself. At this point, however, I will say that the foreclosing creditor of the show himself bids two hundred dollars on the tent. No bid, unless it be more than two hundred dollars, can be accepted. Come, now, friends, here is a fine opportunity for a shrewd business man. One need not be a showman, or have any personal need of a tent, in order to become a bidder. Whoever buys this tent to-day will be able to realize handsomely on his investment by selling this big-top tent in turn to some showman in need of a tent. Who will start the bidding at three hundred dollars?"

No one started it. After the auctioneer had talked for five minutes without getting a "rise" out of any Gridley citizen, he mournfully declared the tent to be outside of the sale.

"Has anyone here any choice as to what he wants me to offer next?" questioned the salesman of the afternoon.

There was no response.

"Come, come, gentlemen!" rebuked the auctioneer. "Don't let the July sun bake your intellects, or the first cool day that comes along will find you all filled with unavailing regrets. Hasn't some one a choice as to what should be offered next?"

Still receiving no reply, he heaved a sigh, then added:

"But there are forty ponies and thirty-two good wagon horses," piped up a business man in the audience.

"There were," corrected the auctioneer, mournfully. "But most of the live stock was rented. Colonel Grundy had hoped to buy the stock gradually out of the receipts of the show. All that he owned in the way of live stock consisted of eight ponies. And here they come! Beauties, aren't they?"

Despite the heat of the day it was as though a frost had settled down over the scene. Many of the men present were butchers, grocers or others who had hoped to pick up cheap horses to be used in their business.

"Ponies are no good in this town," cried one man. "Lead 'em away. Come on, neighbors."

"Wait, wait!" urged the auctioneer. "There are some bargains yet to come that will interest you all. Since we have the ponies on the spot let us begin to run them off. It will teach you all how to bid quickly when you see wonderful bargains bought up under your noses!"

The bidding, however, was lax at first. A stable boy mounted one of the little animals, riding about at reckless pace.

"Now, start the bidding!"

After five minutes talking an opening bid of five dollars for the pony had been made and this had been advanced to seven.

With all the zeal at his command the auctioneer drove the bidding along. It reached fourteen dollars, and there stopped. At last the pony was knocked down to a man who thought he could use the animal in a very light delivery wagon.

"Now, gentlemen, wake up!" begged the auctioneer. "Let us have some bidding worthy of the fair name of Gridley for good judgment in business matters. Lead the roan pony forth."

Undoubtedly the first pony had been a fair bargain at fourteen dollars. The bidding on the second animal began at ten dollars, going quickly to eighteen. From that point the offers traveled slowly until twenty-six dollars had been named. At this price the pony was sold.

From that time on the ponies were "knocked down" rather briskly, though the highest-priced one of the first seven brought only thirty-one dollars.

Now came the eighth.

"You see what this animal is for yourselves, gentlemen," declared the auctioneer. "We don't need to have this sleek little animal's paces shown. We are in a hurry to get through. Who opens with twenty dollars?"

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