Soldinck showed a flicker of interest. “I will at least look them over.”

Cugel displayed his scales. “Notice especially this very fine ‘Malar Astrangal’!”

“It is a decent specimen, despite the greenish tinge to the marathaxus.” Soldinck scanned the scales with a practiced eye. “I value the lot generously at approximately one hundred and eighty-three terces.”

The sum was twenty terces more than Cugel had dared hope for. He started to make an automatic protest, then thought better of it. “Very well; the scales are yours.”

“Take them to Diffin; he will give you your money.” Soldinck gestured toward the hangings.

“Another matter. From curiosity, what will you pay for the ‘Pectoral Skybreak Spatterlight’?”

Soldinck looked up sharply. “You have custody of this scale?”

“For the moment let us think in hypothetical cases.”

Soldinck raised his eyes to the ceiling. “If it were in prime condition, I might well risk as much as two hundred terces.”

Cugel nodded. “And why should you not, since Iucounu will pay two thousand terces or even more?”

“I suggest then that you take this hypothetical item directly to Iucounu. I can even suggest a convenient route. If you return eastward along Shanglestone Strand, you will come to Hag Head and the Castle Cil. Veer south to avoid the Great Erm, which you will find to be infested with erbs and leucomorphs. The Mountains of Magnatz lie ahead of you; they are extremely dangerous, but if you try to bypass them you must risk the Desert of Obelisks. Of the lands beyond I know little.”

“I have some acquaintance with these lands,” said Cugel. “I prefer passage aboard the Galante.”

“Mercantides insists that we transport only persons in our own employ. We are chary of well-spoken passengers who, at a given signal, become merciless pirates.”

“I will be pleased to accept a position with your firm,” said Cugel. “I have capabilities of many sorts; I believe that you will find me useful.”

Soldinck smiled a cold brief smile. “Unfortunately, a single post is open at the moment, that of supercargo aboard the Galante, for which I already have a qualified applicant, namely Bunderwal.”

Cugel gave Bunderwal a careful inspection. “He seems to be a modest, decent and unassuming person, but definitely not a sound choice for the position of supercargo.”

“And why do you say that?”

“If you will notice,” said Cugel, “Bunderwal shows the drooping nostrils which indicate an infallible tendency toward sea-sickness.”

“Cugel is a man of discernment!” declared Bunderwal. “I would rate him an applicant of fair to good quality, and I urge you to ignore his long spatulate fingers which I last noticed on Larkin the baby-stealer. There is a significant difference between the two: Larkin has been hanged and Cugel has not been hanged.”

Cugel said: “We are posing problems for poor Soldinck, who already has worries enough. Let us be considerate. I suggest that we trust our fortunes to Mandingo the three-eyed Goddess of Luck.” He brought a packet of playing cards from his pouch.

“The idea has merit,” said Bunderwal. “But let us use my cards which are newer and easier for the eyes of Soldinck.”

Cugel frowned. He gave his head a decisive shake and replaced the cards in his pouch. “As I analyze the situation, I see that despite your inclinations — I am truly sorry to say this, Bunderwal — it is not proper to deal with Soldinck’s important affairs in so frivolous a fashion. I suggested it only as a test. A person of the proper qualities would have rejected the idea out of hand!”

Soldinck was favorably impressed. “On the mark, Cugel!”

“Allow me to suggest a comprehensive program,” said Cugel. “By reason of my wide experience and better address, I will accept the post of supercargo. Bunderwal, so I believe, will make an excellent understudy to Diffin the clerk.”

Soldinck turned to Bunderwal: “What do you say to this?”

“Cugel’s qualifications are impressive,” Bunderwal admitted. “Against them I can counterpose only honesty, skill, dedication, and tireless industry. Further, I am a dignified citizen of the area, not a fox-faced vagabond in an over-fancy hat.”

Cugel turned to Soldinck: “At last — and we are lucky in this — Bunderwal’s style, which consists of slander and vituperation, can be contrasted with my own dignity and restraint. I still must point out his oily skin and over-large buttocks; they indicate a bent for high living and even a tendency toward peculation. If indeed we hire Bunderwal as under-clerk, I suggest that all locks be reinforced, for the better protection of your valuables.”

Bunderwal cleared his throat to speak, but Soldinck held up his hands. “Gentlemen, I have heard enough! I will discuss your qualifications with Mercantides, who may well wish to interview you both. Tomorrow at noon I will have further news for you.”

Cugel bowed. “Thank you, sir.” He turned to Bunderwal and indicated the hangings. “You may go, Bunderwal. I wish a private word with Soldinck.”

Bunderwal started to protest but Cugel said: “I must discuss the sale of valuable scales.”

Bunderwal reluctantly departed. Cugel turned to Soldinck. “During our discussion, the ‘Spatterlight’ was mentioned.”

“True. You never defined the exact state of your control over this scale.”

“Nor will I do so now, except to emphasize that the scale is safely hidden. If I were attacked by footpads, their efforts would fail. I mention this only to save us both inconvenience.”

Soldinck showed a grim smile. “Your claims as to ‘comprehensive experience’ would seem to be well-founded.”

Cugel collected the sum of one hundred and eighty-three terces from Diffin, who counted out the coins three times, and passed them only reluctantly across the brown marble counter. Cugel swept the terces into his pouch, then departed the premises.

Recalling the advice of Weamish, Cugel took lodging at the Inn of Blue Lamps. For his supper he consumed a platter of roasted blowfish, with side dishes of carbade, yams and sluteberry mash. Leaning back over wine and cheese, he surveyed the company.

Across the room, at a table beside the fireplace, two men began to play at cards. The first was tall and thin with a cadaverous complexion, bad teeth in a long jaw, lank black hair and drooping eyelids. The second displayed a powerful physique, a heavy nose and jaw, a top-knot of red hair and a fine glinting red beard.

To augment their game, they cast about for other players. The tall man cried out: “Hoy there, Fursk! What about a round at Skax? No?”

The man with the red beard called: “There’s good Sabtile, who never refuses a game! Sabtile, this way with your full purse and bad luck! Excellent.”

“Who else? What about you there, with the long nose and fancy hat?”

Cugel diffidently approached the table. “What game do you play? I warn you, at cards I am a hopeless duffer.”

“The game is Skax, and we don’t care how you play, so long as you cover your bets.”

Cugel smiled politely. “If only to be sociable, I will venture a hand or two, but you must teach me the fine points of the game.”

The red-bearded man guffawed. “No fear! You will learn them as fast as the hands are dealt! I am Wagmund; this is Sabtile and this saturnine cutthroat is Koyman, embalmer to the town Saskervoy and a most reputable citizen. Now then! The rules for Skax are thus and so.” Wagmund went on to explain the mode of play, emphasizing his points by pounding the table with a blunt forefinger. “So then, Cugel, is this all clear? Do you think you will be able to cope with the game? Remember, all bets must be made in solid terces. One may not hold his cards beneath the table or move them back and forth in a suspicious manner.”

“I am both inexperienced and cautious,” said Cugel. “Still, I think I understand the game and I will risk two, no three, terces, and I hereby bet one discrete, solid and whole terce on the first sally.”

“That’s the spirit, Cugel!” said Wagmund approvingly. “Koyman, distribute the cards, if you will!”

“First,” Sabtile pointed out, “you must place out your own bet!”

“True,” admitted Wagmund. “See that you do the same.”

“No fear of that; I am known for my quick and clever style of play.”