"Five dollars," he called out, and Sam's "God bless you," was sounding
in his ears, when a voice from another part of the building doubled the
bid, and with a moan Uncle Sam turned imploringly toward Hugh.
"A leetle more, mas'r, an' you fotches 'em; a leetle more," he
whispered, coaxingly, and Hugh faltered out "Twelve."
"Thirteen," came again from the corner, and Hugh caught sight of the
bidder, a sour-grained fellow, whose wife had ten young children, and so
could find use for Sam.
"Thirteen and a half," cried Hugh.
"Fourteen," responded his opponent.
"Leetle more, mas'r, berry leetle," whispered Uncle Sam.
"Fourteen and a quarter," said Hugh, the perspiration starting out about
his lips, as he thought how fast his pile was diminishing, and that he
could not go beyond it.
"Fourteen and a half," from the corner.
"Leetle more, mas'r," from Uncle Sam.
"Fourteen, seventy-five," from Hugh.
"Fifteen," from the man in the corner, and Hugh groaned aloud.
"That's every dime I've got."
Quick as thought an acquaintance beside him slipped a bill into his
hand, whispering as he did so: "It's a V. I'll double it if necessary. I'm sorry for the darky."
It was very exciting now, each bidder raising a quarter each time, while
Sam's "a leetle more, mas'r," and the vociferous cheers of the crowd,
whenever Hugh's voice was heard, showed him to be the popular party.
"Nineteen, seventy-five," from the corner, and Hugh felt his courage
giving way as he faintly called out: "Twenty."
Only an instant did the auctioneer wait, and then his decision, "Gone!"
made Hugh the owner of Uncle Sam, who, crouching down before him,
blessed him with tears and prayers.
"I knows you're good," he said; "I knows it by yer face; and mebby, when
the rheumatics gits out of my ole legs I kin work for mas'r a heap. Does
you live fur from here?"
"Look here, Sam," and Hugh laughed heartily at the negro's forlorn
appearance, as, regaining his feet, he assumed a most deprecating
attitude, asking pardon for tumbling down, and charging it all to his
shaky knees. "Look here, there's no other way, except for you to ride,
and me to walk. Rocket won't carry double," and ere Sam could
remonstrate, Hugh had dismounted and placed him in the saddle.
Rocket did not fancy the exchange, as was manifest by an indignant
snort, and an attempt to shake Sam off, but a word from Hugh quieted
him, and the latter offered the reins to Sam, who was never a skillful
horseman, and felt a mortal terror of the high-mettled steed beneath
him. With a most frightened expression upon his face, he grasped the
saddle pommel with both hands, and bending nearly double, gasped out: "Sam ain't much use't to gemman's horses. Kind of bold me on, mas'r,
till I gits de hang of de critter. He hists me around mightily."