told Rivers, this afternoon," Rand put in. "He
seemed a bit upset about my being brought into this, too, but he finally
admitted that he was willing to pay up to twenty-five thousand dollars
for the collection, and if he buys it, that's exactly what it's going to
cost him."

"_What?_" Nelda fairly screamed. Her hands opened and closed
spasmodically: she was using a dark-red nail-tint that made Rand think
of blood-dripping talons.

"Mr. Arnold Rivers told me, this afternoon, and I quote: I'm willing to
pay up to twenty-five thousand dollars for that collection, unquote,"
Rand said. "And I can tell you now that twenty-five thousand dollars is
just what he will pay for it, unless I can find somebody who's willing to
pay more, which is not at all improbable."

"H'ray!" Geraldine waved her glass and toasted Rand with it. "And
twenty-five G ain't hay, brother!"

Gladys smiled quickly at Rand, then turned to Nelda. "Now I hope you see
why I thought it wise to bring in somebody who knows something about old
arms," she said.

Nelda evidently saw; there was apparently nothing stupid about her. "And
Fred was going to take a miserable ten thousand dollars!" The way she
said it, ten thousand sounded like a fairly generous headwaiter's tip.
"Did Rivers actually tell you he'd pay twenty-five?"

Rand gave, as nearly verbatim as possible, his conversation with the
dealer. "And he can afford it, too," he finished. "He can make a nice
profit on the collection, at that figure."

"My God, do you mean the pistols are worth more than that, even?" she
wanted to know, aghast.

"Certainly, if you're a dealer with an established business, and
customers all over the country, and want to take five or six years to
make your profit," Rand replied. "If you aren't, and want your money in
a hurry, no."

"That's why I was against turning the collection over to Gwinnett on a
commission basis," Gladys said. "It would take him five years to get
everything sold."

Nelda left the fireplace and advanced toward Rand. "Colonel, I owe you an
apology," she said. "I had no idea Father's pistols were worth anywhere
near that much. I don't suppose Fred did, either." She frowned. Wait till
she gets Fred alone, Rand thought; I'd hate to be in his spot.... "You
say you're acting on Humphrey Goode's authority?"

"That's right. I'll negotiate the sale, but the money will be paid
directly to him, for distribution according to the terms of your father's
will