colleges around here, and trading stuff for 'em. So I took the chair, and it was one of the few times I've been stuck. Still, I didn't make out so bad, as I got the spinning wheels for it."
"So you can't show it to us," spoke Sid.
"No, that chair's gone. But I've got lots of others. There's one real antique, in horsehair, and"
"No, thanks!" interrupted Phil. "We'd slide off that every time we tried to go to sleep, it's so slippery."
"Then there's that Mission" began the dealer, eagerly.
"No, we want one like that one which was in the window," spoke Tom.
"By the way, with whom did you say you traded it?" asked Frank, casually, as if it did not matter.
"I don't know his name," spoke the dealer. "I've done some business with him before, but not much."
"Is he in Haddonville?" Phil wanted to know.
"No, he's out in the country somewhere. Lives on a little farm, I believe, and does the furniture business as a side line. He also upholsters chairs, I understand. It was some name like Cohen, or Rosasky, or Isaacs I really forget. But now, if you're lookin' for chairs"
"No, thank you," interrupted Tom. "I don't
