obsequiously and bowing jerkily at every step.

"Yiss, milord. Valcom to mizrable shop. Vat vishes milord?"

"Wickerware," said Hank Karns, tartly, for him. "For export."

"Ah," breathed the representative of An Shirgar. "Zhipluds, eh? You pay?" Captain Karns shook his head, and pointed to the private door at the back.

"Ah, vickware. No pay. Maybe boss ut see, eh?"

"Yep, trot him out," said Hank Karns, and began fingering the clever basketware of the Venutian hillmen. He knew it would be quite a while before the Earth-man came, if this was operated like the Callistan branch had been, twenty years before. After a time, without quite knowing how he knew, he was aware that someone else was in the showroom, studying him from a distance.

"Howdy," he said, turning around. "I kinda wanted to finance a deal that's too big for me to swing—is this the place?"

"Might be," said the man non-committally. He was a typical Terrestrian business man, not much over thirty, baldish, and plainly not given to foolishness. "I don't touch anything as a rule unless I see a profit in it. And no chance of loss. What is your collateral?"

Hank Karns mentioned his ship. The man snorted, and started to turn away. "You're wasting time."

"I got a ring, too. It's a—well—sorta heirloom."

The man came back. He was still not interested, but he took the ring Karns offered him and weighed it in his hand. Then he applied a loup to his eye and examined it closely.

"You've hocked this before?"

"Yes," chuckled Hank Karns. "And got it back, too."

"Hmmm," said the man. "It looks genuine. What do you want?"

"I—uh—am dropping into Mercury to do a little trading. When I get back I might want to buy a chair or so—mebbe a houseful of stuff—and just wanted to be sure my credit was good."

"You speak in riddles, my friend," said the man with a curious, tight little smile. He was tossing the ring thoughtfully all the while.

"I'm only a lone trader," said Hank Karns, wistfully, "and don't know no better. 

 Prev. P 6/19 next