d died.
The only books in the room were in a small case over the workbench; they
were all arms-books.

Then he looked at the walls. On both ends, and on the long inside wall,
the pistols hung, hundreds and hundreds of them, the cream of a
lifetime's collecting. Horizontal white-painted boards had been fixed to
the walls about four feet from the floor, and similar boards had been
placed five feet above them. Between, narrow vertical strips, as wide
as a lath but twice as thick, were set. Rows of pistols were hung, the
barrels horizontal, on pairs of these strips, with screwhooks at grip
and muzzle. There were about a hundred such vertical rows of pistols.

Rand was still looking at them when the butler brought in the drinks;
when Gladys told the servant that that would be all, he went out, rather
reluctantly, by the spiral stairs to the library.

"Well, what do you think of them, Colonel Rand?" Gladys asked.

Rand tasted his whiskey and looked around. "It's one of the finest
collections in the country," he said. "I may even be able to find
somebody who'll top Rivers's offer, but don't be disappointed if I
don't.... By the way, did anybody help Mr. Fleming keep this stuff clean?
The room seems dry, but even so, they'd need an occasional wiping-off."

"Oh, Walters was always in here, going over the pistols," Nelda said.
"He's been in here every day, lately."

"I wonder if you could spare him to help me a little? I'll need somebody
who knows his way around here, at first."

"Why, of course," Gladys agreed. "He isn't very busy in the mornings, or
in the afternoons till close to dinner-time. Are you going to start work
today?"

"I'll have to. I'm going to see Stephen Gresham and his associates this
evening, and I'll want to know what I'm talking about."

They spent about fifteen minutes over their drinks, talking about the
collection. Rand and Gladys did most of the talking, in spite of Nelda's
best efforts to monopolize the conversation. Geraldine, after a few
minutes, retired into her private world and only roused herself when her
sister and stepmother were about to leave. When they went out, Gladys
promised to send Walters up directly; Rand heard her speaking to him at
the foot of the main stairway.

CHAPTER 7

When Walters entered, Rand had his pipe lit and was walking slowly around
the room, laying out the work ahead of him. Roughly, the earliest pieces
were on the extreme left, on the short north wa