"Forty, forty, forty. Shall I have the five? Yes, sir; thank you.
Forty-five, five, five--who says fifty? Fifty, fifty,
forty-five--going, going, gone! and sold at forty-five to Mr.--Beg
pardon; the name, sir? Of course, certainly! And now comes the finest
lot of oranges ever offered for sale in Key West. What am I bid per
hundred for them? Who makes me an offer? I am a perfect Job for
patience, gentlemen, and willing to wait all day, if necessary, to hear
what you have to say."

Of course he was an auctioneer, and this was the regular fruit auction
that is held on this same corner every morning of the year. Many other
things besides fruit are sold at these auctions; in fact, almost
everything in Key West is bought or sold at auction; certainly all
fruit is. For an hour before the time set for the auction a man goes
through the streets ringing a bell and announcing what is to be sold.
This morning he had announced a fine lot of oranges, among other
things, and as Mrs. Elmer was anxious to get some, she had sent Mark
and Ruth to attend the auction, with a commission to buy a hundred if
the bids did not run too high.

The children had already attended several auctions as spectators, and
Mark knew enough not to bid on the first lot offered. He waited until
somebody who knew more about the value of oranges than he should fix
the price. He and Ruth pushed their way as close as possible to the
auctioneer, and watched him attentively.

"Come, gentlemen," said the little man, "give me a starter. What am I
to have for the first lot of these prime oranges?"

"Two dollars!" called a voice from the crowd.

"Two," cried the auctioneer. "Two, two, two and a half. Who says three?
Shall I hear it? And three. Who bids three? That's right. Do I hear the
quarter? They are well worth it, gentlemen. Will no one give me the
quarter? Well, time is money, and tempus fugit. Going at three--at
three; going, going, and sold at three dollars."

Several more lots sold so rapidly at three dollars that Mark had no
opportunity of making himself heard or of catching the auctioneer's
eye, until, finally, in a sort of despair he called out "Quarter," just
as another lot was about to be knocked down to a dealer at three
dollars.

"Ah!" said the auctioneer, "that is something like. It takes a
gentleman from the North to appreciate oranges at their true value. A
quarter is bid. Shall I have a half? Do I hear it? Half, half, half;
and sold at three