A Ten Pound Bag - Cover

A Ten Pound Bag

Knucklehead House Press

Chapter 123: Selling People

Edited: nnpdad, 2 May 2021

“ ... Threeeee Foorty and it oughta be Fifty! Three-fifty one last time, it’s what their worth!.” I paused and looked around.

“Three Forty going once, Thrrrreeeeee Forty gone now twwwiiiiice, Sooollld for thirty-four dollars a head to this feller right here.” I was pointing at Jeb and announcing the last lot of the livestock sales. It was a lot of 10 horses that I had purchased.

“Alrighty now folks, it’s break time then we’re moving on the slaves and other property. Please visit the cash desk folks and bidders for the next lots move to the front.” With that, I walked off the block and went to sit down.

I took the chair gratefully and sat down to gargle and loosen my ever tightening vocal chords, I would definitely pay for this. Brin showed up; doggy kisses, abusive tail, and ever faithful Brin. Now known as Brin the War Dog to many a person across the land, he was a legend in his own right. At that moment, I was exceedingly glad to see Brin. He infused new energy in me in some odd way that I cannot explain. Without a doubt, I felt refreshed almost immediately. We even played for a bit. I’m sure I stretched my muscles out, I felt even better afterwards. I needed a little cleaning up but it was worth it. I finished my break and went back onstage to wrap up the day, only this time Brin came with me.

Brin and I took a couple of laps around the auction block and I let him smell everything. There wasn’t much on this small wood platform but he smelled it. He even marked the log holding my megaphone, I simply shrugged to the crowd and earned chuckles. I finally heeled and sat him down next to me when I got back going.

“Wellllcome back everyone, it’s time to finish up for the day, so we can all get on to a well earned dinner. All bidders must finalize at the cash desk before supper tonight, so we need to finish before dinner. I’m hoping for a special meal and won’t be kept from it.” Even that brought a low laughter, I must be doing something right.

“I’d like to introduce my friend and protector Brin to y’all, say ‘Howdy’ to the folks Brin.” Well that was easy, with a very low voice I said ‘Greet’ to Brin and he barked twice to say hello. The crowd responded, “Howdy Brin”.

Poor Brin didn’t know what to do and his confusion was obvious. I just started to talk again and it seemed to calm him. “Well folks, Brin here is a War Dog and he’s saved my sorry hide more than once.”

We got general shouts of support for Brin from the crowd so I continued on, “I allowed myself to wander into a Lakota ambush and would have taken a lance in the back if Brin hadn’t taken a sudden desire to chew on that warrior’s soft bits. He did got hold of that man and was shaking him back and forth by those bits.”

A quiet but overwhelming groan of realization went up from the men in the crowd as they realized what I meant. I pushed forward, “Needless to say, that poor soul will never try to lance someone in the back again!!” I finished with a triumphant flourish. The crowd responded with cheers for Brin, I hugged him and patted his side, reassuring him that he was a good dog and Brin seemed happy.

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