ale had been a dull affair, and
they were ready for some fun. Someone called out, "Put him up, Jacob."
The joke found favour and the call was repeated hilariously.

Jacob Blair took little Teddy Garland out of Martha's arms and stood him
up on the table by the door, steadying the small chap with one big brown
hand. The baby had a mop of yellow curls, and a pink and white face, and
big blue eyes. He laughed out at the men before him and waved his hands
in delight. Pa Sloane thought he had never seen so pretty a baby.

"Here's a baby for sale," shouted the auctioneer. "A genuine article,
pretty near as good as brand-new. A real live baby, warranted to walk
and talk a little. Who bids? A dollar? Did I hear anyone mean enough to
bid a dollar? No, sir, babies don't come as cheap as that, especially
the curly-headed brand."

The crowd laughed again. Pa Sloane, by way of keeping on the joke,
cried, "Four dollars!"

Everybody looked at him. The impression flashed through the crowd that
Pa was in earnest, and meant thus to signify his intention of giving
the baby a home. He was well-to-do, and his only son was grown up and
married.

"Six," cried out John Clarke from the other side of the yard. John
Clarke lived at White Sands and he and his wife were childless.

That bid of John Clarke's was Pa's undoing. Pa Sloane could not have an
enemy; but a rival he had, and that rival was John Clarke. Everywhere at
auctions John Clarke was wont to bid against Pa. At the last auction he
had outbid Pa in everything, not having the fear of his wife before his
eyes. Pa's fighting blood was up in a moment; he forgot Ma Sloane;
he forgot what he was bidding for; he forgot everything except a
determination that John Clarke should not be victor again.

"Ten," he called shrilly.

"Fifteen," shouted Clarke.

"Twenty," vociferated Pa.

"Twenty-five," bellowed Clarke.

"Thirty," shrieked Pa. He nearly bust a blood-vessel in his shrieking,
but he had won. Clarke turned off with a laugh and a shrug, and the baby
was knocked down to Pa Sloane by the auctioneer, who had meanwhile been
keeping the crowd in roars of laughter by a quick fire of witticisms.
There had not been such fun at an auction in Carmody for many a long
day.

Pa Sloane came, or was pushed, forward. The baby was put into his arms;
he realized that he was expected to keep it, and he was too dazed to
refuse; besides, his heart went out to the child.

The auctioneer looked d