not care who obtained the knife, so long as a good figure was reached. "Forty! forty! Come, gentlemen, a bit higher than that, please!"
"Forty-five cents, and that's more than a good price," grumbled the old countryman, who had, however, set his heart on the knife the moment he had first seen it.
"Half a dollar!" sang out the young man promptly.
"Fifty cents I am offered!" went on Matt, in a business-like way. "Fifty cents, gentlemen, for a knife that ought to be in every one's pocket—a knife worth having! Who says seventy-five!"
Matt knew very well that no one in the crowd would make such a jump, but he hoped to cause the old man to bid again, and his hope was realized. Instead of going to fifty-five, the countryman offered sixty cents.
He had hardly made the offer when the young man, thinking he had aroused the old man to a state of recklessness in which he would keep on bidding, offered seventy-five cents for the knife.
"Seventy-five cents I am offered!" cried Matt. "Who makes it a dollar—ninety—eighty-five—eighty?" and he glanced inquiringly at the old countryman.
But the old man shook his head.
