"What do you consider the finest vocal recording ever made?" Es Sibley asked Pete.

"Aksel Schlitz singing Every Valley," Pete said.

"Amen to that," Les said, nodding in agreement.

After the Sibleys had left, Pete paid for his Schipa record, had Joe Schilling wrap it extra-carefully, and then he took a deep breath and plunged into the issue at hand. "Joe, can you win Berkeley back for me?" If Joe Schilling said yes it was good enough for him. I

After a pause, Joe Schilling said, "Possibly. If anybody can, I can. There is a ruling—little applied—that two persons of the same sex can play as Bluff-partners. We could

see if Luckman would accept that; we might have to put it to the vug Commissioner in your area for a ruling."

"That would be a vug which calls itself U.S. Cummings," Pete said. He had had a number of squabbles with that particular vug; he had found the creature to be particularly trying, in a nit-picking manner.

"The alternative," Joe Schilling said thoughtfully, "would of course be to temporarily deed title to some of your remaining areas to me, but as I said before—"

"Aren't you out of practice?" Pete said. "It's been years since you played The Game."

"Possibly," Schilling conceded. "We'd soon find out, I hope, in time. I think—" He glanced toward the front of the store; another auto-auto had parked outside and a customer was entering.

It was a lovely red-headed girl, and both Pete and Joe temporarily forgot their conversation. The girl, evidently at a loss in the chaotic, littered store, wandered about aimlessly from stack to stack.

"I better go help her," Joe Schilling said.