"Shall I strike out?
I think this is the time." I nodded.
"Thirty thousand," said Pinkerton, making a leap of close upon three thousand dollars.
I could see doubt in Bellairs's eye; then, sudden resolution.
"Thirty-five thousand," said he.
"Forty thousand," said Pinkerton.
There was a long pause, during which Bellairs's countenance was as a book; and then, not much too soon for the impending hammer, "Forty thousand and five dollars," said he.
Pinkerton and I exchanged eloquent glances.

We were of one mind.
Bellairs had tried a bluff; now he perceived his mistake, and was bidding against time; he was trying to spin out the sale until the messenger boy returned.
"Forty-five thousand dollars," said Pinkerton: his voice was like a ghost's and tottered with emotion.
"Forty-five thousand and five dollars," said Bellairs.
"Fifty thousand," said Pinkerton.
"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.