lot more than the ten thousand dollars Arnold Rivers has offered for it."

That produced an unexpected effect. Goode straightened in his chair,
gobbling in surprised indignation.

"Arnold Rivers? Has he had the impudence to try to buy the collection?"
he demanded. "Where did you hear that?"

"From Mrs. Fleming. I understand he made the offer to Fred Dunmore.
That's his business, isn't it?"

"I believe the colloquial term is 'racket,'" Goode said. "Why, that man
is a notorious swindler! Mr. Rand, do you know that only a week before
his death, Mr. Fleming instructed me to bring suit against him, and also
to secure his indictment on criminal charges of fraud?"

"I didn't know that, but I'm not surprised," Rand answered. "What did he
burn Fleming with?"

"Here; I'll show you." Goode rose from his seat and went to a rank of
steel filing-cabinets behind the desk. In a moment, he was back, with a
large manila envelope under his arm, and a huge pistol in either hand.
"Here, Mr. Rand," he chuckled. "We'll just test your firearms knowledge.
What do you make of these?"

Rand took the pistols and looked at them. They were wheel locks,
apparently sixteenth-century South German; they were a good two feet in
over-all length, with ball-pommels the size of oranges, and long steel
belt-hooks. The stocks were so covered with ivory inlay that the wood
showed only in tiny interstices; the metal-work was lavishly engraved and