per cent improvement on Rivers at his most insolent. "You
know, I'll begin to acquire a poor idea of your business methods before
long," he added.

Rivers laughed ruefully. "Well, to tell the truth, I just remembered a
customer of mine who specializes in Confederate arms, who would pay me at
least eighty for that item," he admitted. "I thought..."

Rand shook his head. "I have a special fondness for Confederate arms,
myself. One of my grandfathers was in Mosby's Rangers, and the other was
with Barksdale, to say nothing of about a dozen great-uncles and so on."

"Well, you're entirely within your rights, Mr. Rand," Rivers conceded. "I
should apologize for trying to renege on a sale, but.... Well, I hope to
see you again, soon." He followed Rand to the door, shaking hands with
him. "Don't forget; I'm willing to pay anything up to twenty-five
thousand for the Fleming collection."

CHAPTER 6

The Fleming butler--Walters, Rand remembered Gladys Fleming having called
him--became apologetic upon learning who the visitor was.

"Forgive me, Colonel Rand, but I'm afraid I must put you to some
inconvenience, sir," he said. "You see, we have no chauffeur, at present,
and I don't drive very well, myself. Would you object to putting up your
own car, sir? The garage is under the house, at the rear; just follow the
driveway around. I'll go through the house and meet you there for the
luggage. I'm dreadfully sorry to put you to the trouble, but...."

"Oh, that's all right," Rand comforted him. "Just as soon do it, myself,
now, anyhow. I expect to be in and out with the car while I'm here, and
I'd better learn the layout of the garage now."

"You may back in, sir, or drive straight in and back out," the butler
told him. "One way's about as easy as the other."

Rand returned to his car, driving around the house. A row of doors opened
out of the basement garage; Walters, who must have gone through the house
on the double, was waiting for him. Having what amounted to a conditioned
reflex to park his car so that he could get it out as fast as possible,
he cut over to the right, jockeyed a little, and backed in. There were
already two cars in the garage; a big maroon Packard sedan, and a
sand-colored Packard station-wagon, standing side by side. Rand put
his Lincoln in on the left of the sedan.

"Bags in the luggage-compartment; it isn't locked," he told the butler,
making sure that the glove-compartment, where he had place