Inside they inquired for one of the Messrs.
Bernstine; and upon one of the gentlemen presenting himself,
Ashton-Kirk handed him his card. Mr. Bernstine was stout, bald and
affable.
"I have heard of you, sir," said he, "and I am delighted to be of
service!"
"Within the last few weeks," said Ashton-Kirk, "you have had a sale of
rifles and other things condemned by the military authorities of
Bolivia."
Mr. Bernstine wrinkled his smooth forehead in reflection.
"Bolivia?" said he. "Now let me see." He pondered heavily for a few
moments and then sighed. "You see," he explained, "we sell so many
lots, from so many different places, that we can hardly keep the run
of them. But our books will show," proudly; "everything we do is in
our books."
He looked down the long, table-crowded store and called loudly:
"Sime!"
Sime instantly put in an appearance. He was small, sandy-haired and
freckled; he wore an alert expression and carried a marking pencil
behind his ear.
"This is our shipping and receiving clerk," said Mr. Bernstine. "He's
up to everything around the place." Then he lowered his voice and
jerked his fat thumb toward the newcomer secretly, addressing
Pendleton: "Clever! Just full of it."
Sime listened to Ashton-Kirk's question attentively.
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