"Four hundred and twenty."

"Whew!"

"It is genuine, sir, and three hundred years old. Old Prince Boris
carried it. It's most rare. Ten years ago you might have had it for
fifty gavvos. But," with a shrug of his thin shoulders, "the price of
antiquities has gone up materially since the Americans began to come.
They don't want a thing if it is cheap."

"I'll give you a hundred dollars for it, Mr.--er--" he looked at the
sign on the open door--"Mr. Spantz."

"Good day, sir." The old man was bowing him out of the shop. King was
amused.

"Let's talk it over. What's the least you'll take in real money?"

"I don't want your money. Good day."

Truxton King felt his chin in perplexity. In all his travels he had
found no other merchant whom he could not "beat down" two or three
hundred per cent. on an article.

"It's too much. I can't afford it," he said, disappointment in his eyes.

"I have modern blades of my own make, sir, much cheaper and quite as
good," ventured the excellent Mr. Spantz.

"You make 'em?" in surprise.