"Not exactly," I told him. "This is a tool, not a collector's item."
There was almost a laugh in his voice now. "You mean you use that relic in your work?"
I put the gun down, told myself to take it easy, then said, "They've made a lot of developments in weapons since this rifle was popular, but it still has advantages on certain types of jobs. For instance, if I was after a Kodiac bear, up in the Alaska National Park—"
He snorted, "I'd take a Bazook-rifle and be sure who came out on top."
"Sure you would," I told him, "and there wouldn't be enough bear left to feed your dogs. I usually work for a zoo or a museum; they either want the animal alive, or in good mounting condition. I admit that they've got guns now that one man can carry that'd sink one of the old time battleships; okay, but in my line I seldom need one."
He didn't like my tone of voice, but he dropped the point and began looking around for a place to sit.
I hadn't asked him to sit down, and I didn't now.
I said, "Was there something I could do for you?"
"I wanted to hire you for a rather lengthy period," he told me.
"I'm all booked up for the next six months."