Jack Hanshaw was madder than a wet hen and his roommate, Ken Adaman, was enjoying his misfortune hugely. "Not a blame thing!" snarled Jack, fiddling with the knobs of the television set. "Not even static lines. First they give me a set without a plug-in cord, and now this one's got a no-good picture tube."
"You get what you pay for," said Ken, laughing. "I've warned you about these so-called bargains. But what's this about the plug-in cord?"
Ken had been at work the day before, when Jack first brought the new television set into their apartment and discovered that omission.
"I didn't see any point in saying anything about that last night," admitted Jack. "After I bought the thing yesterday and brought it home, I found out it didn't have a cord to plug it in—not even a connection in the back for a cord. I took it back to them and they said something about the wrong kind of power and fixed it up for me last night."
"You got stung, old buddy," said Ken, unwinding his long legs from the arm of the easy chair. "They probably made it from junk parts."
"It doesn't look like it," said Jack stubbornly.
It didn't. The television set was shiny and new-looking, although rather odd. With a thirty-five-inch screen, it was only about six inches thick, and it had a strange antenna of concentric circles on top instead of the conventional rabbit ears. There were only two dials, one for the channels (it was lettered instead of numbered) and one for off-on and volume.
"I'd take it back and demand my money," said Ken.
"I'll take it back, all right, but if they'll fix it, I don't want my money back. Guess how much it cost me."
"Well...." Ken pulled a stubby pipe from his coat pocket and began to pack it slowly from a humidor on the chairside table. "Knowing your bargains, I'd say about a hundred and fifty dollars."
"Two dollars," said Jack. "Two dollars and no strings attached."
Ken whistled. "I smell a sucker game somewhere."
"Maybe so, but what's two dollars? The materials are worth more than that as junk. And if they fix it.... How about going along with me to return it, Ken?"
Ken lit his pipe carefully and glanced at his wristwatch.
"Okay," he said, "if we can be back in an hour. I'm curious to see this place, but I've got a date with Lorene tonight and I have to get cleaned up."
Jack winced. The roommates were competitors for the hand of Lorene Shavely, the pert brunette in the tobacco store down the street. But Ken was getting so much the better of it that it could be called competition in name only by now.
"It's only about five blocks, on Gehannon Street," Jack said. "We'll be back in time."
He repacked the television set in its box.
"Ardex," said Ken, reading the name on the box. "Off-brand. I never heard of it before."
They set out, Jack carrying the box under one arm. The set was remarkably light for its size.
The street lights were coming on along Gehannon Street, for it was five o'clock on a winter afternoon. Jack bought a late edition from a newsboy on the corner.
"Probably closed by now," said Ken.
But it wasn't. Just past Wing Fan's Chinese laundry, Jack turned into an alley and went down a flight of concrete steps. There was a door there, leading into a basement under the Eat-A-Bite Restaurant. It was unlighted, and there were no signs there to indicate anything but that the Grove Brothers Circus, Greatest Show on Earth, was coming to town two years ago.
But when they opened the battered wooden door, the light inside was like fairyland. Soft, of many changing hues, it lit a spotless expanse of floor that stretched away farther than Ken had realized the basement extended. The floor was broken by merchandise-loaded counters and gleaming machines. Here and there a clerk moved, in raiment that changed color with the light.
One of the clerks approached them. He was black-eyed, black-haired and handsome, and wore a tunic and balloon trousers.
"Ah, Mr. Hanshaw!" he exclaimed, recognizing Jack. "Glad to see you back again. But I see you have the—uh—television with you. Still having trouble?"
"Yeah," said Jack. "The screen's no good. No picture at all."
The clerk looked puzzled. "The tube couldn't be bad. It must be in the transmission facilities."
"You mean the TV stations? I don't see how—"
"Different methods of transmission," said the clerk hastily. "Just a minute, Mr. Hanshaw, and I'll see what our communications man can do about this."
He took the box from Jack and started off.
"Wait," said Jack. "Here's your newspaper."
With a smile of thanks, the man accepted the paper and disappeared into the depths of the basement store.
"What's with the newspaper business?" demanded Ken.
"That's part of the bargain," said Jack. "When I bought the television set, I agreed to bring him a late newspaper every time I come in the store."
"Hmm. Queer setup. And what kind of funny clothes is he wearing?"
"Store uniform, I guess."
"Some uniform," remarked Ken, who worked in a men's clothing store. "That fabric's spun glass, I think. And some of these people in 'store uniforms' seem to be customers."
Indeed, some of the perhaps two dozen people visible, all dressed like the clerk, appeared to be making purchases.
While waiting for the clerk to return, the two of them looked around at the nearby counters.
"Funny thing about this place," said Ken, "is I don't know what seventy per cent of these gadgets they're selling are. Those I can recognize look strange. Like that set of dishes—I'm no housewife, but I've never seen shapes like those before."
"I noticed that, too," said Jack. "But anything they've got that we can use, we can't afford not to buy, at the prices they ask."
"Let's wait and see how the television set turns out," suggested Ken.
The clerk returned, empty-handed.
"My communications man thinks he can fix your comm—television set so it will be all right, if you can bring us a technical manual on television sets. I hate to ask you to go to such trouble—"
"What! You mean you've got a television repairman who doesn't have a manual on the things?"
"Not on the type you need," said the clerk apologetically. "It wouldn't matter what brand or trade name the manual applies to."
"Why can't you have your communications man go out and buy his own?" demanded Ken. "Or order one?"
 
"Well—let's just say it would cause great inconvenience at this time. Mr. Hanshaw, I realize it would inconvenience you also, so in return for the favor I will be willing to give you, free, any item of merchandise in the store."
"Fair enough," agreed Jack, his eyes gleaming. "I'll bring it tomorrow."
"Incidentally, sir, would your friend be interested in a purchase while you are here?"
"No, absolutely not," said Ken, turning away.
Jack caught his arm. "Oh, come on, Ken! Price these things, anyhow. You'll be astonished. Show Mr. Adaman something he can use."
"Mr. Adaman?" The clerk's eyes widened delightedly. "Why, sir, that's my name, too. Edigo Adaman."
"Mine's Kenneth Adaman," said Ken shortly, but he showed more interest.
"It isn't a common name," said Edigo. "Are you by any chance a merchant, Mr. Adaman?"
"You might say so. I'm a clerk in a men's clothing store."
Edigo nodded gravely. "My family has been in the mercantile business for many generations," he said. "My father owns this store and it will be the largest in the Americas when we finish it. Now, Mr. Adaman, do you see anything that interests you? Anything at all?"
"Well," said Ken, moving over to a counter, "is this a watch?"
"Yes, sir, and a very good one." Edigo picked it up. It was a thin dial, with three hands and twenty-four numerals instead of the usual twelve.
"It's very nice-looking. But it's a pocket watch, isn't it? I wear a wristwatch."
"Oh, no," said Edigo. "Hold out your arm."
Ken obeyed. Edigo placed the dial on his wrist, and it clung without apparent support.
"Say, that's keen!" exclaimed Ken. "Some sort of magnetism, I suppose? How much?"
"Would—would fifty cents be too much?" asked Edigo anxiously.
"Fifty cents? Sold!" Ken pulled a coin from his pocket.
"Oh, no, sir. Not the cash. Deposit it in the account, please, and bring me the deposit slip. Mr. Hanshaw knows the bank."
"That's right," said Jack. "Broadway National, account of Supercolossal Mercantile Company. Here's the deposit slip on the two dollars for the television set."
"And we'll have it straightened out for you right away, Mr. Hanshaw, if you can only bring us the manual."
As the two of them headed for the door to the basement, Ken said to Jack in a low tone: "There goes another customer out ahead of us. I'm going to stop him outside and see if he can give us the answers to some of the things I don't understand about this place."
The customer, dressed like Edigo and all the others in the basement, went through the door just ahead of them. Jack caught it just before it shut. But when he and Ken mounted the steps, the man was nowhere in sight, either up or down the alley.
"Where could he have gone?" asked Ken in amazement. "He'd have had to run like hell to get out of the alley before we got up here."
They walked to the mouth of the alley and emerged into the glare of the neon lights. Ken held up his new watch and looked at it in a stunned sort of way.
"Say, you know something?" he said thoughtfully. "That fellow Edigo Adaman looks vaguely familiar to me."
"I noticed that, too," said Jack. "Look like any of your relatives?"
Ken considered. "No, not in the least."
Several days later, Jack was in the tobacco store chatting with Lorene. Mr. Schmit, the store's owner, registered silent disapproval in the background, but was not likely to protest openly unless Lorene slighted a customer.
Jack had told Lorene about the strange bargain basement the day after he and Ken visited it. He found that Ken had mentioned it to her that night, too.
"I couldn't find the kind of complete television manual they need at any of the bookstores," said Jack gloomily. "I had to have one of them order me one, and while I'm waiting, no television. The man said it was color TV, too. I can't understand any store that big not getting its own manuals."
"Have you ever been upstairs?" asked Lorene.
"Upstairs? There's nothing there but the Eat-A-Bite Restaurant."
"Oh. Ken said they had something like elevators going up, and it looked like they might have floors above."
"I didn't know Ken had been back after that night," said Jack in surprise. "He didn't say anything to me about it. I got the impression he thought the whole thing was a fake."
Lorene's black eyes sparkled as she smiled, and she turned a cheek to exhibit oddly cut earrings.
"He brought me these earrings from there. I'd think you'd be buying other things, too, Jack, at those prices, instead of moping over that television set."
"Oh, I have," said Jack. "I bought several suits of clothes at a dollar each. They didn't have any in stock except those funny outfits they wear in the store, but I took them a picture from a magazine advertisement and they made me some suits to order."
"Is that one of them?" asked Lorene, gazing critically at the somewhat baggy suit he was wearing.
"No," said Jack sheepishly. "I thought they were too nice to wear to work. They're that spun glass, or whatever it is. Go dancing with me tonight and I'll wear one."
"Can't," said Lorene. "I've got a date with Ken."
"I never get to go out with you any more, Lorene," Jack said glumly. "What have I done to make you turn me down every time?"
"Nothing," said Lorene candidly. "I like you as a friend, Jack. But Ken—well, he's got that extra something I can't resist. We're going to get married, you know."
"No, I didn't," said Jack, but he wasn't very surprised.
Just then Ken breezed in.
"Hi, honey," he said. "Hello, Jack. Say, you two, come out and take a look at my new car."
"New car!" squealed Lorene. "Oh, Ken! But I can't leave the store. I'll have to look from the door."
"It's down the block," said Ken. "I'll drive by, and you can get a good look tonight. Come on, Jack."
Jack went with him. The automobile was one of those low-slung, half-block-long affairs like one Jack vaguely remembered seeing pictured in a foreign car magazine.
"That's not yours," he said flatly. "Those things cost ten or fifteen thousand dollars."
"Cost me fifty," said Ken smugly. "I got it at our friend Edigo's store. Fifty bucks."
............