Miller a customer of yours?" Carrin asked.

"That fellow who killed himself?" Pathis frowned briefly. "He was, as a
matter of fact. That amazed me, sir, absolutely amazed me. Why, just
last month the fellow bought a brand-new Jet-lash from me, capable of
doing three hundred and fifty miles an hour on a straightaway. He was as
happy as a kid over it, and then to go and do a thing like that! Of
course, the Jet-lash brought up his debt a little."

"Of course."

"But what did that matter? He had every luxury in the world. And then he
went and hung himself."

"Hung himself?"

"Yes," Pathis said, the frown coming back. "Every modern convenience in
his house, and he hung himself with a piece of rope. Probably unbalanced
for a long time."

The frown slid off his face, and the customary smile replaced it. "But
enough of that! Let's talk about you."

The smile widened as Pathis opened his briefcase. "Now, then, your
account. You owe us two hundred and three thousand dollars and
twenty-nine cents, Mr. Carrin, as of your last purchase. Right?"

"Right," Carrin said, remembering the amount from his own papers.
"Here's my installment."

He handed Pathis an envelope, which the man checked and put in his
pocket.

"Fine. Now you know, Mr. Carrin, that you won't live long enough to pay
us the full two hundred thousand, don't you?"

"No, I don't suppose I will," Carrin said soberly.

He was only thirty-nine, with a full hundred years of life before him,
thanks to the marvels of medical science. But at a salary of three
thousand a year, he still couldn't pay it all off and have enough to
support a family on at the same time.

"Of course, we would not want to deprive you of necessities, which in
any case is fully protected by the laws we helped formulate and pass. To
say nothing of the terrific items that are coming out next year. Things
you wouldn't want to miss, sir!"

Mr. Carrin nodded. Certainly he wanted new items.

"Well, suppose we make the customary arrangement. If you will just sign
over your son's earnings for the first thirty years of his adult life,
we can easily arrange credit for you."

* * * * *

Mr. Pathis whipped the papers out of his briefcase and spread them in
front of Carrin.

"If you'll just sign here, sir."

"Well," Carrin said, "I'm not sure. I'd like to give the boy a start in
life, not saddle him with--"

"But my dear sir," Pathis interposed, "this is for yo