"Five I've got - from the man with a moustache! Now we're talkin'. . . . Make it six? Make it five-fifty . . . No? . . . Goin' at five hundred! Five hundred once, five hundred twice--"
Wetherby shouted, "Five-fifty!"
The audience roared.
"Six hundred!" Qwilleran shouted.
All eyes were on Wetherby, and he shook his head.
The audience groaned.
"Six hundred once, six hundred twice. Sold for a measly six hundred - this rare example of antiquity!"
The audience applauded as a spotter escorted Qwilleran to the nearest cashier.
Following the crowd-pleasing stunt, the auction settled down to reasonable bidding. Foxy Fred was a genius at manipulating an audience, and he coaxed the top dollar for the four items photographed for the newspaper, while letting other items move quickly. His technique added excitement and promised everyone a chance to take something home. If the bidding was slow, he shocked everyone by giving someone an incredible bargain. Or he mesmerized them with the auctioneer's chant: "Wanna wanna wanna wanna . . . bidda bidda bidda . . ."
There were short interludes for stretching legs and chattering, as well as long interludes for flocking to the lower level for cold drinks and sandwiches. Altogether he kept the crowd happy for six hours.
Polly said, "How does he maintain the pace?"
"He's a pro," Qwilleran said. "I'm waiting to see how he handles the cat auction next Saturday."
The Lincoln portrait went for four thousand, the tall case clock for three thousand, and the three porcelain teacups to Qwilleran for three hundred.
Polly gasped, "Qwill, what are you going to do with them?"
"Give tea parties," he said glibly.
It was an anonymous donation that caused the greatest stir. It had been the last of the important items photographed in the
A sealed bid from an agent in Lockmaster - unchallenged - won the table for ten thousand!
When Qwilleran and Polly left the auction scene, he had his teacups and she had an autographed copy of Mark Twain's travel book
"Where would your goose bumps like to have dinner?" he asked. "How about the Boulder House Inn - far from the bidding crowd?"
"I think it would be lovely," Polly said, ignoring his pun.
Before driving to the lakeshore, they stopped at the barn to feed the cats. Polly's cats had an automatic feeder that could be set for any hour, but Koko let it be known that he disapproved of automation.
From the barn Qwilleran phoned the inn for a reservation, and they drove leisurely through the countryside.
Polly said, "Everyone's talking about the ten-thousand-dollar bid from Lockmaster - for the Plensdorf library table. Can you think of anyone down there who would pay that?"
"Some sharpie who'll sell it for twenty thousand in Chicago. When they send a truck to pick it up, we should have our spies follow it."
She could not be sure whether he was serious or tossing one of his flip remarks. Rather than reveal her naïveté, she remained silent.
Qwilleran said, "This is the third time I've seen Foxy Fred in action. Do you think he will use the same sharp, scolding, bossy tactics with an audience of cat lovers? I should think the right approach would be gentler, appealing to their sentimentality. Also, I can't visualize the platform procedure of a cat auction."
"Well, you remember Peggy, who comes to the store twice a day to feed Dundee, don't you, Qwill? She's been volunteering at the animal shelter. She says each cat will arrive onstage in his own ?limousine' - a picnic basket with lift-up lid and top-handle. His name and other information will be on a tag attached to the handle. And the tags are being hand-lettered and decorated by art students. There's a soft pad in the bottom of each basket. Each cat is spending a few hours each day in his own private limousine to familiarize himself with the aroma."
Qwilleran said, "The well-organized routine sounds as if Hixie Rice has had a hand in the planning," he said with a touch of sarcasm, for which Polly rebuked him.
