"Well, Mr. Rand, that alters the situation considerably," he said, with
noticeably less hostility. He was still a bit resentful; people had no
right to confuse him by jumping about from one category to another, like
that. "Now understand, I'm not trying to be offensive, but it seems a
little unusual for a private detective also to be an authority on antique
firearms."

"Mr. Fleming was an authority on antique firearms, and he was a
manufacturer of foodstuffs," Rand parried, carefully staying inside
Goode's Aristotelian system of categories and verbal identifications. "My
own business does not occupy all my time, any more than his did, and I
doubt if an interest in the history and development of deadly weapons is
any more incongruous in a criminologist than in an industrialist. But if
there's any doubt in your mind as to my qualifications, you can check
with Colonel Taylor, at the State Museum, or with the editor of the
_American Rifleman_."

"I see." Goode nodded. "And as you point out, being a sort of
non-professional expert, you should be free from mercenary bias." He
nodded again, taking off his glasses and polishing them on an outsize
white handkerchief. "Frankly, now that I understand your purpose, Mr.
Rand, I must say that I am quite glad that Mrs. Fleming took this step.
I was perplexed about how to deal with that collection. I realized that
it was worth a great deal of money, but I haven't the vaguest idea how
much, or how it could be sold to the best advantage.... At a rough guess,
Mr. Rand, how much do you think it ought to bring?"

Rand shook his head. "I only saw it twice, the last time two years ago.
Ask me that after I've spent a day or so going over it, and I'll be able
to give you an estimate. I will say this, though: It's probably worth a