"
"Well, how much more than that do you think Gresham and his crowd will
offer?"
"I haven't talked price with them, yet," Rand repeated. "I mean to, as
soon as I can."
"Well, you get their offer, and I'll top it," Rivers declared. "I'm
willing to go as high as twenty-five thousand for that collection; they
won't go that high."
Although he just managed not to show it, Rand was really surprised. Even
a consciousness of abstracting had not prepared him for the shock of
hearing Arnold Rivers raise his own offer to something resembling an
acceptable figure. A good case, he reflected, could be made of that
for the actuality of miracles.
He rose, picking up his trench coat.
"Well! That's something like it, now," he said. "I'll see you later; I
don't know how long it's going to take me to get a list prepared, and
circularize the old-arms trade. I should hear from everybody who's
interested in a few weeks. You can be sure I'll keep your offer in mind."
He slipped into the coat and put on his hat, and then picked up the
package containing the Confederate revolver. Rivers had risen, too; he
was watching Rand nervously. When Rand tucked the package under his arm
and began drawing on his gloves, Rivers cleared his throat.
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