Digital heart book

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Pinkerton. Did I hear you make
an advance, sir?" asked the auctioneer.
"I--I have a difficulty in speaking," gasped Jim.
"It's fifty thousand, Mr. Borden."
Bellairs was on his feet in a moment. "Auctioneer," he
said, "I have to beg the favour of three moments at the
telephone. In this matter I am acting on behalf of a
certain party to whom I have just written----"
"I have nothing to do with any of this," said the
auctioneer brutally. "I am here to sell this wreck.
Do you make any advance on fifty thousand?"
"I have the honour to explain to you, sir," returned
Bellairs, with a miserable assumption of dignity,
"fifty thousand was the figure named by my principal;
but if you will give me the small favour of two moments
at the telephone
"O, nonsense!" said the auctioneer. "If you make no
advance, I'll knock it down to Mr. Pinkerton."
"I warn you," cried the attorney, with sudden
shrillness. "Have a care what you're about. You are
here to sell for the underwriters, let me tell you--not
to act for Mr.


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