Hunters or carriage horses, all warranted sound, and bred from the best stock. There are seventy in Mr. Jack Flynn's string, and he bids me say that if any wholesale dealer would make one bid for the whole lot, to save time, he would have the preference over any purchaser."
There was a pause and a whisper from the crowd in front, with some expressions of discontent. By a single sweep all the small dealers had been put out of it. It was only a long purse which could buy on such a scale as that. The salesman looked round him inquiringly.
"Come, Mr. Holloway," said he, at last. "You didn't come over here for the sake of the scenery. You may travel the country and not see such another string of horses. Give us a starting bid."
The great dealer was still rattling his pencil upon his front teeth. "Well," said he, at last, "they _are_ a fine lot of horses, and I won't deny it. They do you credit, Mr. Flynn, I am sure. All the same I didn't mean to fill a ship at a single bid in this fashion. I like to pick and choose my horses."
"In that case Mr. Flynn is quite prepared to sell them in smaller lots," said the salesman. "It was rather for the convenience of a wholesale customer that he was prepared to put them all up together. But if no gentleman wishes to bid--"
"Wait a minute," said a voice. "They are very fine horses, these, and I will give you a bid to start you. I will give you twenty pounds each for the string of seventy."
There was a rustle as the crowd all swayed their heads to catch a glimpse of the speaker. The salesman leaned forward. "May I ask your name, sir?"
"Strellenhaus--Mr. Strellenhaus of Liverpool."
"It's a new firm," said Dodds's neighbour. "I thought I knew them all, but I never heard of him before."
The salesman's head had disappeared, for he was whispering with the breeder. Now he suddenly straightened himself again. "Thank you for giving us a lead, sir," said he. "Now, gentlemen, you have heard the offer of Mr. Strellenhaus of Liverpool. It will give us a base to start from. Mr. Strellenhaus has offered twenty pounds a head."
"Guineas," said Holloway.
"Bravo, Mr. Holloway! I knew that you would take a hand. You are not the man to let such a string of horses pass away from you. The bid is twenty guineas a head."
"Twenty-five pounds," said Mr. Strellenhaus.
"Twenty-six."
"Thirty."
It was London against Liverpool, and it was the head of the trade against an outsider. Still, the one man had increased his bids by fives and the other only by ones. Those fives meant determination and also wealth. Holloway had ruled the market so long that the crowd was delighted at finding someone who would stand up to him.
"The bid now stands at thirty pounds a head," said the salesman. "The word lies with you, Mr. Holloway."
The London dealer was glancing keenly at his unknown opponent, and he was asking himself whether this was a genuine rival, or whether it was a device of some sort--an agent of Flynn's perhaps--for running up the price. Little Mr. Strellenhaus, the same apple-faced gentleman whom Dodds had noticed in the coffee-room, stood looking at the horses with the sharp, quick glances of a man who knows what he is looking for.
"Thirty-one," said Holloway, with the air of a man who has gone to his extreme limit.
"Thirty-two," said Strellenhaus, promptly.
Holloway grew angry at this persistent opposition. His red face flushed redder still.
"Thirty-three!" he shouted.
"Thirty-four," said Strellenhaus.
Holloway became thoughtful, and entered a few figures in his note-book. There were seventy horses. He knew that Flynn's stock was always of the highest quality. With the hunting season coming on he might rely upon selling them at an average of from forty-five to fifty. Some of them might carry a heavy weight, and would run to three figures. On the other hand, there was the feed and keep of them for three months, the danger of the voyage, the chance of influenza or some of those other complaints which run through an entire stable as measles go through a nursery.