"What did he have a--a--what did you say it was?--if he didn't want
to sell it?" asked the boy in assumed surprise.

"He did want to sell it up to that very day," was the reply, "but
no one wanted to buy it. Then a man came into the shop and said
he'd give a thousand dollars for it on sight. So Finklebaum,
having the Little Brass God within a foot of his hawkbill nose,
takes the man's address and says he'll let him know if he hears
anything about the thing in demand. Finklebaum thinks that if the
man'll pay one thousand dollars for it, he'll pay five, and that's
why he loses out."

George's interest was now so intense that the boy ceased speaking
and sat regarding him steadily for a moment.

"What do you know about the Little Brass God?" he demanded.

"Nothing," replied George. "Never saw it!"

"Seems to me you're pretty much interested in it, though,"
commented the boy, rising from the bunk and taking a seat before
the fire.

"I was thinking about Old Finklebaum cheating himself by getting
too gay," answered George. "Go on, and tell me about it!"

"So when this man who offers the thousand dollars leaves the shop,"
Thede continued, "Finklebaum chases out to a dealer in antiques to
make inquiries about the Little Brass God. I guess he thinks it's