the financier-第4部分

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　What　am　I　bid？〃

〃Eighteen　dollars；〃　suggested　a　trader　standing　near　the　door；　more　to　start　the　bidding　than　anything　else。　　Frank　paused。

〃Twenty…two！〃　called　another。

〃Thirty！〃　a　third。　　〃Thirty…five！〃　a　fourth；　and　so　up　to　seventy…five；　less　than　half　of　what　it　was　worth。

〃I'm　bid　seventy…five！　I'm　bid　seventy…five！〃　called　the　auctioneer；　loudly。　　〃Any　other　offers？　Going　once　at　seventy…five；　am　I　offered　eighty？　Going　twice　at　seventy…five；　and〃he　paused；　one　hand　raised　dramatically。　　Then　he　brought　it　down　with　a　slap　in　the　palm　of　the　other〃sold　to　Mr。　Silas　Gregory　for　seventy…five。　Make　a　note　of　that；　Jerry；〃　he　called　to　his　red…haired；　freckle…faced　clerk　beside　him。　　Then　he　turned　to　another　lot　of　grocery　staplesthis　time　starch；　eleven　barrels　of　it。

Young　Cowperwood　was　making　a　rapid　calculation。　　If；　as　the　auctioneer　said；　coffee　was　worth　seven　dollars　and　thirty…two　cents　a　bag　in　the　open　market；　and　this　buyer　was　getting　this　coffee　for　seventy…five　dollars；　he　was　making　then　and　there　eighty…six　dollars　and　four　cents；　to　say　nothing　of　what　his　profit　would　be　if　he　sold　it　at　retail。　　As　he　recalled；　his　mother　was　paying　twenty…eight　cents　a　pound。　　He　drew　nearer；　his　books　tucked　under　his　arm；　and　watched　these　operations　closely。　　The　starch；　as　he　soon　heard；　was　valued　at　ten　dollars　a　barrel；　and　it　only　brought　six。　　Some　kegs　of　vinegar　were　knocked　down　at　one…third　their　value；　and　so　on。　　He　began　to　wish　he　could　bid；　but　he　had　no　money；　just　a　little　pocket　change。　　The　auctioneer　noticed　him　standing　almost　directly　under　his　nose；　and　was　impressed　with　the　stoliditysolidityof　the　boy's　expression。

〃I　am　going　to　offer　you　now　a　fine　lot　of　Castile　soapseven　cases；　no　lesswhich；　as　you　know；　if　you　know　anything　about　soap；　is　now　selling　at　fourteen　cents　a　bar。　　This　soap　is　worth　anywhere　at　this　moment　eleven　dollars　and　seventy…five　cents　a　case。　　What　am　I　bid？　What　am　I　bid？　What　am　I　bid？〃　He　was　talking　fast　in　the　usual　style　of　auctioneers；　with　much　unnecessary　emphasis；　but　Cowperwood　was　not　unduly　impressed。　　He　was　already　rapidly　calculating　for　himself。　　Seven　cases　at　eleven　dollars　and　seventy…five　cents　would　be　worth　just　eighty…two　dollars　and　twenty…five　cents；　and　if　it　went　at　halfif　it　went　at　half

〃Twelve　dollars；〃　commented　one　bidder。

〃Fifteen；〃　bid　another。

〃Twenty；〃　called　a　third。

〃Twenty…five；〃　a　fourth。

Then　it　came　to　dollar　raises；　for　Castile　soap　was　not　such　a　vital　commodity。　　〃Twenty…six。〃　　〃Twenty…seven。〃　　〃Twenty…eight。〃　〃Twenty…nine。〃　　There　was　a　pause。　　〃Thirty；〃　observed　young　Cowperwood；　decisively。

The　auctioneer；　a　short　lean　faced；　spare　man　with　bushy　hair　and　an　incisive　eye；　looked　at　him　curiously　and　almost　incredulously　but　without　pausing。　　He　had；　somehow；　in　spite　of　himself；　been　impressed　by　the　boy's　peculiar　eye；　and　now　he　felt；　without　knowing　why；　that　the　offer　was　probably　legitimate　enough；　and　that　the　boy　had　the　money。　　He　might　be　the　son　of　a　grocer。

〃I'm　bid　thirty！　I'm　bid　thirty！　I'm　bid　thirty　for　this　fine　lot　of　Castile　soap。　　It's　a　fine　lot。　　It's　worth　fourteen　cents　a　bar。　　Will　any　one　bid　thirty…one？　Will　any　one　bid　thirty…one？　Will　any　one　bid　thirty…one？〃

〃Thirty…one；〃　said　a　voice。

〃Thirty…two；〃　replied　Cowperwood。　　The　same　process　was　repeated。

〃I'm　bid　thirty…two！　I'm　bid　thirty…two！　I'm　bid　thirty…two！　Will　anybody　bid　thirty…three？　It's　fine　soap。　　Seven　cases　of　fine　Castile　soap。　　Will　anybody　bid　thirty…three？〃

Young　Cowperwood's　mind　was　working。　　He　had　no　money　with　him；　but　his　father　was　teller　of　the　Third　National　Bank；　and　he　could　quote　him　as　reference。　　He　could　sell　all　of　his　soap　to　the　family　grocer；　surely；　or；　if　not；　to　other　grocers。　　Other　people　were　anxious　to　get　this　soap　at　this　price。　　Why　not　he？

The　auctioneer　paused。

〃Thirty…two　once！　Am　I　bid　thirty…three？　Thirty…two　twice！　Am　I　bid　thirty…three？　Thirty…two　three　times！　Seven　fine　cases　of　soap。　Am　I　bid　anything　more？〃　Once；　twice！　Three　times！　Am　I　bid　anything　more？〃his　hand　was　up　again〃and　sold　to　Mr。？〃　He　leaned　over　and　looked　curiously　into　the　face　of　his　young　bidder。

〃Frank　Cowperwood；　son　of　the　teller　of　the　Third　National　Bank；〃　replied　the　boy；　decisively。

〃Oh；　yes；〃　said　the　man；　fixed　by　his　glance。

〃Will　you　wait　while　I　run　up　to　the　bank　and　get　the　money？〃

〃Yes。　　Don't　be　gone　long。　　If　you're　not　here　in　an　hour　I'll　sell　it　again。〃

Young　Cowperwood　made　no　reply。　　He　hurried　out　and　ran　fast；　first；　to　his　mother's　grocer；　whose　store　was　within　a　block　of　his　home。

Thirty　feet　from　the　door　he　slowed　up；　put　on　a　nonchalant　air；　and　strolling　in；　looked　about　for　Castile　soap。　　There　it　was；　the　same　kind；　displayed　in　a　box　and　looking　just　as　his　soap　looked。

〃How　much　is　this　a　bar；　Mr。　Dalrymple？〃　he　inquired。

〃Sixteen　cents；〃　replied　that　worthy。

〃If　I　could　sell　you　seven　boxes　for　sixty…two　dollars　just　like　this；　would　you　take　them？〃

〃The　same　soap？〃

〃Yes；　sir。〃

Mr。　Dalrymple　calculated　a　moment。

〃Yes；　I　think　I　would；〃　he　replied；　cautiously。

〃Would　you　pay　me　to…day？〃

〃I'd　give　you　my　note　for　it。　　Where　is　the　soap？〃

He　was　perplexed　and　somewhat　astonished　by　this　unexpected　proposition　on　the　part　of　his　neighbor's　son。　　He　knew　Mr。　Cowperwood　welland　Frank　also。

〃Will　you　take　it　if　I　bring　it　to　you　to…day？〃

〃Yes；　I　will；〃　he　replied。　　〃Are　you　going　into　the　soap　business？〃

〃No。　　But　I　know　where　I　can　get　some　of　that　soap　cheap。〃

He　hurried　out　again　and　ran　to　his　father's　bank。　　It　was　after　banking　hours；　but　he　knew　how　to　get　in；　and　he　knew　that　his　father　would　be　glad　to　see　him　make　thirty　dollars。　　He　only　wanted　to　borrow　the　money　for　a　day。

〃What's　the　trouble；　Frank？〃　asked　his　father；　looking　up　from　his　desk　when　he　appeared；　breathless　and　red　faced。

〃I　want　you　to　loan　me　thirty…two　dollars！　Will　you？〃

〃Why；　yes；　I　might。　　What　do　you　want　to　do　with　it？〃

〃I　want　to　buy　some　soapseven　boxes　of　Castile　soap。　　I　know　where　I　can　get　it　and　sell　it。　　Mr。　Dalrymple　will　take　it。　　He's　already　offered　me　sixty…two　for　it。　　I　can　get　it　for　thirty…two。　Will　you　let　me　have　the　money？　　I've　got　to　run　back　and　pay　the　auctioneer。〃

His　father　smiled。　　This　was　the　most　business…like　attitude　he　had　seen　his　son　manifest。　　He　was　so　keen；　so　alert　for　a　boy　of　thirteen。

〃Why；　Frank；〃　he　said；　going　over　to　a　drawer　where　some　bills　were；　〃are　you　going　to　become　a　financier　already？　You're　sure　you're　not　going　to　lose　on　this？　You　know　what　you're　doing；　do　you？〃

〃You　let　me　have　the　money；　father；　will　you？〃　he　pleaded。　　〃I'll　show　you　in　a　little　bit。　　Just　let　me　have　it。　　You　can　trust　me。〃

He　was　like　a　young　hound　on　the　scent　of　game。　　His　father　could　not　resist　his　appeal。

〃Why；　certainly；　Frank；〃　he　replied。　　〃I'll　trust　you。〃　　And　he　counted　out　six　five…dollar　certificates　of　the　Third　National's　own　issue　and　two　ones。　　〃There　you　are。〃

Frank　ran　out　of　the　building　with　a　briefly　spoken　thanks　and　returned　to　the　auction　room　as　fast　as　his　legs　would　carry　him。　When　he　came　in；　sugar　was　being　auctioned。　　He　made　his　way　to　the　auctioneer's　clerk。

〃I　want　to　pay　for　that　soap；〃　he　suggested。

〃Now？〃

〃Yes。　　Will　you　give　me　a　receipt？〃

〃Yep。〃

〃Do　you　deliver　this？〃

〃No。　　No　delivery。　　You　have　to　take　it　away　in　twenty…four　hours。〃

That　difficulty　did　not　trouble　him。

〃All　right；〃　he　said；　and　pocketed　his　paper　testimony　of　purchase。

The　auctioneer　watched　him　as　he　went　out。　　In　half　an　hour　he　was　back　with　a　draymanan　idle　levee…wharf　hanger…on　who　was　waiting　for　a　job。

Frank　had　bargained　with　him　to　deliver　the　soap　for　sixty　cents。　In　still　another　half…hour　he　was　before　the　door　of　the　astonished　Mr。　Dalrymple　whom　he　had　come　out　and　look　at　the　boxes　before　attempting　to　remove　them。　　His　plan　was　to　have　them　carried　on　to　his　own　home　if　the　operation　for　any　reason　failed　to　go　through。　　Though　it　was　his　first　great　venture；　he　was　cool　as　glass。

〃Yes；〃　said　Mr。　Dalrymple；　scratching　his　gray　head　reflectively。　〃Yes；　that's　the　same　soap。　　I'll　take　it。　　I'll　be　as　good　as　my　word。　　Where'd　you　get　it；　Frank？〃

〃At　Bixom's　auction　up　here；〃　he　replied；　frankly　and　blandly。

Mr。　Dalrymple　had　the　drayman　bring　in　the　soap；　and　after　some　formalitybecause　the　agent　in　this　case　was　a　boymade　out　his　note　at　thirty　days　and　gave　it　to　him。

Frank　thanked　him　and　pocketed　the　note。　　He　decided　to　go　back　to　his　father's　bank　and　discount　it；　as　he　had　seen　others　doing；　thereby　paying　his　father　back　and　getting　his　own　profit　in　ready　money。　　It　couldn't　be　done　ordinarily　on　any　day　after　business　hours；　but　his　father　would　make　an　exception　in　his　case。

He　hurried　back；　whistling；　and　his　father　glanced　up　smiling　when　he　came　in。

〃Well；　Frank；　how'd　you　make　out？〃　he　asked。

〃Here's　a　note　at　thirty　days；〃　he　said；　producing　the　paper　Dalrymple　had　given　him。　　〃Do　you　want　to　discount　that　for　me？　You　can　take　your　thirty…two　out　of　that。〃

His　father　examined　it　closely。　　〃Sixty…two　dollars！〃　he　observed。　〃Mr。　Dalrymple！　That's　good