"I put the wire on," the coroner said. "I thought it might be safer that
way."
"It'll be a lot safer after I've emptied it into the first claybank,
outside town," Rand told him. "Sorry I had to be a little short with you,
Mr. Kirchner, but you know how it is. I'm responsible to Mr. Goode for
the collection, and this gun's part of it."
"Oh, that's all right; I really shouldn't have taken the attitude I did,"
Kirchner met him halfway. "After I talked to Mr. Goode, of course, I knew
it was all right, but ... You see, I've been bothered a lot about that
pistol, lately."
"Yes?" Rand succeeded in being negligent about it.
"Oh my, yes! The newspaper people wanted to take pictures of me holding
it, and then, there was an antique-dealer who was here trying to buy it."
"Who was that--Arnold Rivers?"
"Why yes! Do you know him? He has an antique-shop on the other side of
Rosemont; he doesn't sell anything but guns and swords and that sort of
thing," Kirchner said. "He was here, making inquiries about it, and my
clerk showed it to him, and then he started making offers for it--first
ten dollars, and then fifteen, and then twenty; he got up as high as
sixty dollars. I suppose it's worth a couple of hundred.
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