CHAPTER IV
Sunday afternoon Mark came and got me to go for a walk.
"Where to?" I asked him, because I was pretty tired and didn't feellike I needed to do any unnecessary scattering around.
"Uncle Ike Bond's," says he.
Then I knew there was a reason for it, so I didn't make any complaint.Uncle Ike drives the 'bus in Wicksville when he isn't too busyfishing--which is mostly. He's a great friend of ours, and if anybodyin the world admires Mark Tidd more than he does then I want to seethat person. Uncle Ike would get up in the middle of the night to standon his head in the middle of the road if Mark was to ask him.
So we went to his house, which is close to the river and just outsideof town. Uncle Ike was sitting on the front stoop, whittling out one ofthe things he's always working on--this time it was a double chain withten links and a sort of a bird-cage with a ball in it at the end.
"Howdy, Uncle Ike!" says Mark.
"Um?" says Uncle Ike, not speaking to us at all, "if 'tain't that MarkTidd ag'in. Um! Alfiredest smartest kid in town is what I say, and Ibeen drivin' 'bus here long enough to know."
"G-goin' to be busy to-morrow, Uncle Ike?" asked Mark.
"Middlin' busy, middlin' busy."
"We're goin' to have an aw-aw-auction," says Mark.
"Um!" says Uncle Ike. "Auction, eh? Um! Calc'late I may find a minnitor two somehow. Auction. Um! Where?"
"Haven't you seen our signs?"
"To be sure. To be sure." We knew he was just pretending, and that heknew all about the auction all the time. "Was them your signs?"
"Yes," says Mark. Then he wrinkled up around his eyes like he does whenhe's going to think of something especially smart. "What's the m-maindifficulty with auctions, Uncle Ike?"
"Auctioneer's wind gives out," says the old fellow.
"N-no," says Mark.
"Nobody to buy," guesses Uncle Ike.
"N-no. It's gittin' f-folks to bid as much as you want 'em to."
"'Course," Uncle Ike said. "Never'd 'a' thought of that. Never! Beatsall how this Mark Tidd thinks of things. Quicker 'n greased lightenin'he is. Twicet as quick."
"If there was s-somebody in the crowd," says Mark, "that folks didn'tsuspicion b'longed to the auction, it might help some."
"F'rinstance?" says Uncle Ike, making one word of it.
"If," says Mark, "the real bid wasn't h-high enough, then theauctioneer could m-make some kind of a sign, and the feller in thecrowd could give her a boost."
"Um!" says Uncle Ike.
"S'pose the bid was a d-d-dime," says Mark, "and the thing you wassellin' was worth more. What happens? Why, the auctioneer he wiggleshis thumb like this--and the feller in the crowd bids fif-fifteencents. See?"
"Calc'late to," says Uncle Ike.
"Comin' to the auction?" says Mark, grinning like everything.
"Calc'late to," says Uncle Ike, grinning back.
"Got t-time to stay around?"
"Put in the whole day," says Uncle Ike.
"Wigglin' the thumb means raise it a nickel," says Mark. "Wigglin' boththumbs means raise it a d-dime."
"Listen to that, now," says Uncle Ike to himself. "Easy, hain't it?Jest as easy as swallerin' slippery ellum. But it took _him_ to thinkof it." Then he looked at Mark and says, "Your Uncle Ike'll be there,you can bet you; and will he bid? Jest you lissen to him holler."
"You m-might sort of act mean, too," says Mark. "That'll make the otherfolks that's biddin' get _mad_. If they get good and mad they'll bidhigh just out of spunk."
Uncle Ike slapped his knee and laughed all over, though you couldn'thear a noise. That's the way he always laughed. To see him you'd thinkhe was hollerin' loud enough to bust a gallus, but there isn't aparticle of sound.
"G'-by, Uncle Ike," says Mark.
"G'-by, boys," says he, and Mark and I came away.
Monday morning bright and early all four of us boys were at the Bazar,getting things ready. The first thing we did was to fix up a place forMark to do his auctioning from. That was easy. We put two bigpacking-boxes side by side against the front of the store, and on oneof them we put a smaller box to use for a table. We covered these allover with flags and bunting and signs. This was done before anotherstore on the street opened up. Even Jehoshaphat P. Skip wasn't stirringaround yet.
The whole front of his place was covered with big signs and flags.Between us we made Wicksville look like it was the Fourth of July.Pretty soon we saw Skip come down from the hotel. He walked past ourplace with his nose in the air and never looked. My! but he was mad! Hewent into his store and opened up. For his Grand Opening he had fourclerks he'd brought from some of his other stores, because he figuredhe'd have a whale of a crowd. His store did look nice and attractive. Iwent snooping past, and in that little time I could see a bunch ofthings I'd like to buy--but I'd have gone without them till a week fromnext year before I'd have bought from him.
Our auction was set for ten o'clock. You see, Mark Tidd knew theWicksville folks. Everybody had something to do early in the morning,and nobody would have time to go down-town before ten. But JehoshaphatP. he didn't know. He started right off to boom things--hired a fiddleand a horn and an accordion to sit inside his place and play tunes. Butthere wasn't anybody to play to, and wouldn't be for a couple of hours.
"Tallow and Binney'll stay inside," says Mark, "to l-look after folksthat want to buy things--"
"But," says Binney, "we want to be out at the auction."
Mark he looked at them for half a minute without saying a word. "Thishere," says he, "hain't a movin'-p-p-picture show or a picnic. It'sbusiness."
They didn't have another word to say, because they knew Mark would havedischarged them in a second if he had thought it was necessary.
"There'll be folks nosin' around," says Mark, "and they g-got to belooked after. Plunk'll help me."
We had piled a lot of things up in front that we figured would temptfolks, and everything was ready for the auction. We didn't open thestore door till it was time, but at half past nine Mark sent Binney andme out with big bells.
"Walk up and d-down the street and ring 'em," says he, "and carry thesesigns."
Each of the signs had printed on it: "All ready for the auction. She'sgoing to start."
Binney went one way and I went the other, which was right pastJehoshaphat P. Skip's new store. There were a couple of folks in thereand the music was a-going it as tight as it could, but Mr. Skip didn'tseem like he was happy. I stuck my head inside his door and hollered,"Auction's goin' to begin," and then ducked. He started after me,poking his long neck ahead of him like a giraffe, but I knew hewouldn't chase me, so I walked off--when I'd got outside--as calm as aparade of Odd Fellows.
Just before ten o'clock I hustled back. Mark had put the phonographoutside and it was doing the best it knew how. Quite a crowd wasbeginning to gather around. I looked at Mark to see if he was scared.Scared! He looked tickled to death.
"Come on," says he.
We opened the front doors and out we went. The folks let out a laugh; acouple of fellows cheered. Some kids that were hanging around began toholler at us, and it made me mad, but Mark let on he didn't hear. Heclimbed up on his platform and looked at the folks without saying aword. A kid on the other side of the street yelled, "Look at what'stryin' to be a auctioneer," and folks laughed some more.
I saw Mark sort of squint up his eyes and pinch his cheek.
"Aw," yelled the same kid, "better git started 'fore the box busts in."
If there's one thing Mark _hates_ it's having anybody joke him aboutbeing fat. He squinted his eyes so you could hardly see them andwaddled up to the edge of his platform.
"L-ladies and gentlemen," he stuttered, "the auction is about tocommence, but before the first article can be sold I got to have a boyto help me." He looked all around, and then pretended he just saw thekid that had been yelling at him. "Sam Jenks," says he, "will you comehere and help me just a m-minute?"
Sam puffed up important-like and pushed his way across the road andscrambled up by Mark, and Mark took hold of his arm. When you look atMark he don't seem to be anything but fat, but he's strong. He's got agrip in his fingers like you wouldn't believe.
"L-ladies and gentlemen," says he, again, "I have the p-pleasure ofpresentin' to your notice a ree-markable spectacle. This is it," sayshe, pointing to Sam. "It l-looks like a boy. It's got arms and legs anda head. But it hain't really a boy, ladies and gentlemen. It's nothin'but a noise. In the mornin' this n-noise gits up and starts to goin';it goes all day; and it don't stop at night, 'cause it snores."Everybody hollered and laughed fit to kill, and Sam tried to pullhimself away, but Mark hung on to him. "It's a novelty, ladies andgentlemen. Nobody in Wicksville ever owned such a thing--so I'm a-goin'to auction it off."
"Lemme go," says Sam, wiggling like a basketful of eels.
"The defect in this article," says Mark, "is that it's jest noise. Wecan't guarantee that b-brains goes with it. If you buy, it's at yourown risk."
Well, sir, you should have heard those folks laugh, and you should haveseen Sam's face. You could have auctioned him pretty cheap if you soldhim for as much as he felt like.
"What am I offered?" says Mark.
Folks started to bid. One man offered a dead dog, and another bid aplugged cent, and another the squeak of a pig and another the hole in afried cake. All the time Sam was straining and tugging, but Mark didn'tlet go. Then a man back in the crowd yelled, "I bet Sam Hoskins'syaller dawg."
"Sold," says Mark, and he let loose of Sam. You never saw a kiddisappear as quick as that kid did. He just _vanished_. You can bet nomore kids interfered with Mark's auction _that_ day.
As soon as folks had quit laughing Mark started in to sell things inearnest. First thing was a wash-bowl and pitcher, and to hear Mark talkabout it you would have thought the King of England was all broken upbecause he was so far off he couldn't be there to bid on it.
Mrs. Sanders bid a dime. Mark just looked at her and pretended hecouldn't hear. He put his hand up to his ear and asked her to repeatit. She got sort of red in the face and bid a quarter.
"A q-quarter--a quarter I'm bid for a bowl and pitcher the Queen ofSheeby'd be tickled to death to wash her f-face in." Mark was sort ofexcited and the way he stuttered was a caution. "What lady or gentlemandesirin' an heirloom to hand down to their g-g-great-g-g-grandchildrenraises that bid?" It was worth a dime to hear him splutter"great-grandchildren."
"Thirty cents," says somebody.
"Huh!" snorted Mark. "It cost more'n that to paint the pictures on it."He wiggled two thumbs at Uncle Ike Bond, who opened up his mouth androared "Forty cents," and then looked as proud of himself as if he'dsung a solo in church.
Mrs. Sanders shot a mad look at Uncle Ike and bid forty-five. Markwiggled one thumb and Uncle Ike bid fifty. Mrs. Sanders turned aroundand scowled at him. I could hear her whisper to Mrs. Newman, "That ol'scalawag sha'n't have it." Mark heard her, too, and he gave me just thebeginning of a wink. "Sixty cents," snapped Mrs. Sanders. Markedwiggled a thumb. "Sixty-five," says Uncle Ike. "Seventy-five," saysMrs. Sanders, setting her mouth in a straight line and shaking herhead. "Eighty," yelled Uncle Ike. Mrs. Sanders straightened up andglared at him--glared! I wouldn't 'a' had her look at me like that fora quarter. Her eyes 'most bored holes in him, but Uncle Ike onlygrinned aggravating, like Mark told him to. "A dollar," says Mrs.Sanders, and then put her fists on her hips and tossed her head.
"Dollar ten," says Uncle Ike.
"Dollar 'n' a quatter," snaps Mrs. Sanders.
"Dollar thutty."
"Dollar fifty," says Mrs. Sanders, "and if you're fool enough to bidmore you kin have it."
Mark pretended to try to get more bids, but there weren't any, so hestuttered, "G-goin', goin', g-gone to Mis' Sanders for a dollar 'n' ahalf."
I wrapped up the sale and handed it to her and she gave me the money. Iwas trying hard to keep my face straight--for that pitcher andwash-bowl had been standing in our window for two months withninety-eight cents marked on it as plain as the nose on Jehoshaphat P.Skip's face.
The next thing was a new-fangled carpet-sweeper that father had boughta year ago and never got anybody interested in. Mark he explained itcareful, and threw a handful of papers and things on the floor andswept them up to show how well it worked. Then he looked the crowd overslow and calculating. Over at one side stood old man Meggs, who was anold batch and kept house by himself.
"L-labor-savin'," says Mark. "Just the thing for a single man. Nobroom. Gits all the dirt. Almost works by itself. Make me an offer, Mr.Meggs."
Mr. Meggs scratched his nose and hunched his shoulders and pulled downhis hat and cleared his throat. "Calc'late she's wuth a quatter," sayshe.
"It's worth more to Miss Mullins than that," says Mark, looking over ather where she stood. Miss Mullins wasn't married, either, and she woreclothes like a man and talked about running for town clerk. She andMeggs didn't like each other, for some reason, and wouldn't even speakon the street. "You ain't g-goin' to let him have this splendidcarpet-sweeper for a quarter, are you?"
She tossed her head. "Fifty cents," says she, just to show Meggs therewas some real bidding going on.
Meggs says something under his breath that wasn't what you could call acompliment, and boosted it to seventy-five.
"No man that's too lazy to support a wife can outbid _me_," says MissMullins. "A dollar."
"Dollar ten," says Meggs, scowling like everything.
Miss Mullins edged over toward him where she could look right into hisface, and says, "Dollar 'n' quatter."
"I'm goin' to have that sweeper," says Meggs to Uncle Ike, "if I haveto sell my hoss.... Dollar 'n' half."
Well, sir, those two folks, just because they didn't like each otherkept on a-bidding and a-bidding till they got up to five dollars, whichwas twice what the sweeper was worth. And then Meggs quit. He let on hedidn't want it, anyhow, and said he never did have any use for thempatent contraptions.
"He never had no use for anythin' he had to spend money for," says MissMullins, passing up a five-dollar bill.
The auction went along like that for an hour, everybody having thefinest kind of a time. It was better than a circus. Mark knew just howto get them, too. He played folks against each other and used grudgeshe knew about until the prices he got were a caution. It looked like wewere going to get rich right there.
I looked down the street to the new Five-and-Ten-Cent Store--and it wasas deserted as the Desert of Sahara. But coming up the street I sawJehoshaphat P. Skip, waving his arms and twisting his nose and talkingloud and fast to Town-Marshal Sprout. They came right up and pushedtheir way through the crowd. The marshal walked up to Mark's platform.
"Mark," says he, "lemme see your permit to have this here auction inthe street."
Mark looked sort of funny.
"P-permit?" says he.
"Yes," says the marshal, "you have to have one when you use the publicstreet."
"Um," says Mark, "guess I sort of overlooked that."
"Then," says the marshal, "you'll have to quit. Sorry. I wouldn't 'a'said a word if somebody hadn't complained, but this here fellercomplained, so I got to perform my duty."
"Sure," says Mark. "D-don't blame you a mite." He turned to the crowdand says, "Owin' to the law bein' called down on me, this auction iscalled off. Folks that want to buy--and buy cheap--will step inside."
It made everybody kind of mad, because Wicksville loves to be at anauction, and people scowled at Skip, but he didn't care. He just wenthurrying back to his store and got his music to playing loud, and thenstood in front with one of those megaphone things and yelled:
"Grand openin' now in progress. Greatest bargains ever offered inWicksville. Step right this way."
Well, maybe folks were mad at Mr. Skip, but they were down-town to havesome fun and see something and buy something, so they started stringingdown his way, and pretty soon the whole crowd was jamming into hisstore. We were all alone
. I looked at Mark and was feeling pretty glum.I expected he would look glum, too, but he didn't. His jaw was stickingout like I'd never seen it stick out before.
"We're licked," says I. "I knew we couldn't go against a grown-upbusiness man."
"Licked?" says Mark. "Huh!"
"We might as well close up," says I.
"There's only one th-thing we might as well close," says he, "andthat's croakin'. We thought we had Jehoshaphat P. Skip licked thism-mornin', but did he quit? Huh? He didn't quit, but he played low-downmean. We won't quit, and we won't play low-down mean--but Mr.Jehoshaphat P. Skip'll wish he had _two_ noses to wiggle 'fore thisl-little fuss is over. Come on," says he, "and look a little happier.We hain't licked," he says, "till the sheriff takes the store away fromus."
"But what'll we do?"
"How do I know?" says he. "We'll do somethin'. I'm goin' back to setd-down and think."
Mark Tidd in Business Page 4
