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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/23534-h.zip b/23534-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..88423b7 --- /dev/null +++ b/23534-h.zip diff --git a/23534-h/23534-h.htm b/23534-h/23534-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6a0edfb --- /dev/null +++ b/23534-h/23534-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2266 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of ... Or Your Money Back, by David Gordon. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's ...Or Your Money Back, by Gordon Randall Garrett + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: ...Or Your Money Back + +Author: Gordon Randall Garrett + +Release Date: November 18, 2007 [EBook #23534] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ...OR YOUR MONEY BACK *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Bruce Albrecht, Mary Meehan and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + + + + +<h1>... OR YOUR MONEY BACK</h1> + +<h2>BY DAVID GORDON</h2> + +<h3>Illustrated by Summers</h3> + +<h4>[Transcriber note: This etext was produced from Astounding Science Fiction, September 1959. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</h4> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus1" id="illus1"></a> +<img src="images/illus1.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>There are lots of things that +are considered perfectly acceptable ... provided they don't +work. And of course everyone +knows they really don't, which +is why they're acceptable.... +</h3> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + + + + +<p>There are times when I +don't know my own +strength. Or, at least, +the strength of my advice. +And the case of +Jason Howley was certainly an instance +of one of those times.</p> + +<p>When he came to my office with +his gadget, I heard him out, trying +to appear both interested and co-operative—which +is good business. +But I am forced to admit that +neither Howley nor his gadget were +very impressive. He was a lean, +slope-shouldered individual, five-feet-eight +or nine—which was shorter +than he looked—with straight +brown hair combed straight back +and blue eyes which were shielded +with steel-rimmed glasses. The thick, +double-concave lenses indicated a degree +of myopia that must have bordered +on total blindness without +glasses, and acute tunnel vision, even +with them.</p> + +<p>He had a crisp, incisive manner +that indicated he was either a man +who knew what he was doing or a +man who was trying to impress me +with a ready-made story. I listened +to him and looked at his gadget without +giving any more indication than +necessary of what I really thought.</p> + +<p>When he was through, I said: +"You understand, Mr. Howley that +I'm not a patent lawyer; I specialize +in criminal law. Now, I can recommend—"</p> + +<p>But he cut me off. "I understand +that, counselor," he said sharply. +"Believe me, I have no illusion whatever +that this thing is patentable under +the present patent system. Even +if it were, this gadget is designed to +do something that may or may not +be illegal, which would make it +hazardous to attempt to patent it, I +should think. You don't patent new +devices for blowing safes or new +drugs for doping horses, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Probably not," I said dryly, "although, +as I say, I'm not qualified +to give an opinion on patent law. +You say that gadget is designed to +cause minute, but significant, changes +in the velocities of small, moving +objects. Just how does that make it +illegal?"</p> + +<p>He frowned a little. "Well, possibly +it wouldn't, except here in +Nevada. Specifically, it is designed +to influence roulette and dice +games."</p> + +<p>I looked at the gadget with a +little more interest this time. There +was nothing new in the idea of inventing +a gadget to cheat the red-and-black +wheels, of course; the local +cops turn up a dozen a day here in +the city. Most of them either don't +work at all or else they're too obvious, +so the users get nabbed before +they have a chance to use them.</p> + +<p>The only ones that really work +have to be installed in the tables +themselves, which means they're +used to milk the suckers, not rob the +management. And anyone in the +State of Nevada who buys a license +to operate and then uses crooked +wheels is (a) stupid, and (b) out of +business within a week. Howley was +right. Only in a place where gambling +is legalized is it illegal—and +unprofitable—to rig a game.</p> + +<p>The gadget itself didn't look too +complicated from the outside. It was +a black plastic box about an inch +and a half square and maybe three +and a half long. On one end was a +lensed opening, half an inch in +diameter, and on two sides there +were flat, silver-colored plates. On +the top of it, there was a dial which +was, say, an inch in diameter, and it +was marked off just exactly like a +roulette wheel.</p> + +<p>"How does it work?" I asked.</p> + +<p>He picked it up in his hand, holding +it as though it were a flashlight, +with the lens pointed away from +him.</p> + +<p>"You aim the lens at the wheel," +he explained, "making sure that +your thumb is touching the silver +plate on one side, and your fingers +touching the plate on the other side. +Then you set this dial for whatever +number you want to come up and +concentrate on it while the ball is +spinning. For dice, of course, you +only need to use the first six or +twelve numbers on the dial, depending +on the game."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>I looked at him for a long moment, +trying to figure his angle. He +looked back steadily, his eyes looking +like small beads peering through +the bottoms of a couple of shot +glasses.</p> + +<p>"You look skeptical, counselor," +he said at last.</p> + +<p>"I am. A man who hasn't got the +ability to be healthily skeptical has +no right to practice law—especially +criminal law. On the other hand, no +lawyer has any right to judge anything +one way or the other without +evidence.</p> + +<p>"But that's neither here nor there +at the moment. What I'm interested +in is, what do you want me to do? +People rarely come to a criminal +lawyer unless they're in a jam. What +sort of jam are you in at the moment?"</p> + +<p>"None," said Howley. "But I will +be very soon. I hope."</p> + +<p>Well, I've heard odder statements +than that from my clients. I let it +ride for the moment and looked +down at the notes I'd taken while +he'd told me his story.</p> + +<p>"You're a native of New York +City?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"That's right. That's what I +said."</p> + +<p>"And you came out here for +what? To use that thing on our Nevada +tables?"</p> + +<p>"That's right, counselor."</p> + +<p>"Can't you find any games to +cheat on back home?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, certainly. Plenty of them. +But they aren't legal. I wouldn't care +to get mixed up in anything illegal. +Besides, it wouldn't suit my purpose."</p> + +<p>That stopped me for a moment. +"You don't consider cheating illegal? +It certainly is in Nevada. In +New York, if you were caught at it, +you'd have the big gambling interests +on your neck; here, you'll have +both them <i>and</i> the police after you. +<i>And</i> the district attorney's office."</p> + +<p>He smiled. "Yes, I know. That's +what I'm expecting. That's why I +need a good lawyer to defend me. +I understand you're the top man in +this city."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Howley," I said carefully, +"as a member of the Bar Association +and a practicing attorney in the +State of Nevada, I am an Officer of +the Court. If you had been caught +cheating and had come to me, I'd be +able to help you. But I can't enter into +a conspiracy with you to defraud +legitimate businessmen, which is exactly +what this would be."</p> + +<p>He blinked at me through those +shot-glass spectacles. "Counselor, +would you refuse to defend a man +if you thought he was guilty?"</p> + +<p>I shook my head. "No. Legally, a +man is not guilty until proven so +by a court of law. He has a right to +trial by jury. For me to refuse to +give a man the defense he is legally +entitled to, just because I happened +to think he was guilty, would be trial +by attorney. I'll do the best I can +for any client; I'll work for his interests, +no matter what my private +opinion may be."</p> + +<p>He looked impressed, so I guess +there must have been a note of conviction +in my voice. There should +have been, because it was exactly +what I've always believed and practiced.</p> + +<p>"That's good, counselor," said +Howley. "If I can convince you that +I have no criminal intent, that I have +no intention of defrauding anyone +or conspiring with you to do anything +illegal, will you help me?"</p> + +<p>I didn't have to think that one +over. I simply said, "Yes." After all, +it was still up to me to decide +whether he convinced me or not. If +he didn't, I could still refuse the case +on those grounds.</p> + +<p>"That's fair enough, counselor," +he said. Then he started talking.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Instead of telling you what Jason +Howley <i>said</i> he was going to do, I'll +tell you what he <i>did</i> do. They are +substantially the same, anyway, and +the old bromide about actions speaking +louder than words certainly applied +in this case.</p> + +<p>Mind you, I didn't see or hear any +of this, but there were plenty of witnesses +to testify as to what went on. +Their statements are a matter of +court record, and Jason Howley's +story is substantiated in every respect.</p> + +<p>He left my office smiling. He'd +convinced me that the case was not +only going to be worthwhile, but +fun. I took it, plus a fat retainer.</p> + +<p>Howley went up to his hotel room, +changed into his expensive evening +clothes, and headed out to do the +town. I'd suggested several places, +but he wanted the biggest and best—the +Golden Casino, a big, plush, expensive +place that was just inside the +city limits. In his pockets, he was +carrying less than two hundred dollars +in cash.</p> + +<p>Now, nobody with that kind of +chicken feed can expect to last long +at the Golden Casino unless they +stick to the two-bit one-armed bandits. +But putting money on a roulette +table is in a higher bracket by far +than feeding a slot machine, even +if you get a steady run of lemons.</p> + +<p>Howley didn't waste any time. He +headed for the roulette table right +away. He watched the play for about +three spins of the wheel, then he +took out his gadget—in plain sight +of anyone who cared to watch—and +set the dial for thirteen. Then he +held it in his hand with thumb and +finger touching the plates and put +his hand in his jacket pocket, with +the lens aimed at the wheel. He +stepped up to the table, bought a +hundred dollars worth of chips, and +put fifty on Number Thirteen.</p> + +<p>"No more bets," said the croupier. +He spun the wheel and dropped the +ball.</p> + +<p>"Thirteen, Black, Odd, and Low," +he chanted after a minute. With a +practiced hand, he raked in the +losers and pushed out Howley's winnings. +There was sixteen hundred +dollars sitting on thirteen now. Howley +didn't touch it.</p> + +<p>The wheel went around and the +little ball clattered around the rim +and finally fell into a slot.</p> + +<p>"Thirteen, Black, Odd, and Low," +said the croupier. This time, he +didn't look as nonchalant. He peered +curiously at Howley as he pushed out +the chips to make a grand total of +fifty-one thousand two hundred dollars. +The same number doesn't come +up twice in succession very often, +and it is very rare indeed that the +same person is covering it both times +with a riding bet.</p> + +<p>"Two thousand limit, sir," the +croupier said, when it looked as +though Howley was going to let the +fifty-one grand just sit there.</p> + +<p>Howley nodded apologetically and +pulled off everything but two thousand +dollars worth of chips.</p> + +<p>The third time around, the croupier +had his eyes directly on Howley +as he repeated the chant: "Thirteen, +Black, Odd, and Low." Everybody +else at the table was watching Howley, +too. The odds against Howley—or +anyone else, for that matter—hitting +the same number three times +in a row are just under forty thousand +to one.</p> + +<p>Howley didn't want to overdo it. +He left two thousand on thirteen, +raked in the rest, and twisted the +dial on his gadget over a notch.</p> + +<p>Everyone at the table gasped as +the little ball dropped.</p> + +<p>"That was a near miss," whispered +a woman standing nearby.</p> + +<p>The croupier said: "Fourteen, Red, +Even, and Low." And he raked in +Howley's two thousand dollars with +a satisfied smile. He had seen runs +of luck before.</p> + +<p>Howley deliberately lost two +more spins the same way. Nobody +who was actually cheating would call +too much attention to himself, and +Howley wanted it to look as though +he were trying to cover up the fact +that he had a sure thing.</p> + +<p>He took the gadget out of his +pocket and deliberately set it to the +green square marked 00. Then he +put it back in his pocket and put two +thousand dollars on the Double +Zero.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>There was more than suspicion in +the croupier's eyes when he raked in +all the bets on the table except Howley's. +It definitely didn't look good +to him. A man who had started out +with a fifty-dollar bet had managed +to run it up to one hundred seventy-four +thousand two hundred dollars +in six plays.</p> + +<p>Howley looked as innocent as possible +under the circumstances, and +carefully dropped the dial on his +gadget back a few notches. Then he +bet another two thousand on High, +an even money bet.</p> + +<p>Naturally, he won.</p> + +<p>He twisted the dial back a few +more notches and won again on +High.</p> + +<p>Then he left it where it was and +won by betting on Red.</p> + +<p>By this time, of course, things +were happening. The croupier had +long since pressed the alarm button, +and five men had carefully surrounded +Howley. They looked like +customers, but they were harder-looking +than the average, and they +were watching Howley, not the +wheel. Farther back from the crowd, +three of the special deputies from +the sheriff's office were trying to look +inconspicuous in their gray uniforms +and white Stetsons and pearl-handled +revolvers in black holsters. You can +imagine how inconspicuous they +looked.</p> + +<p>Howley decided to do it up brown. +He reset his gadget as surreptitiously +as possible under the circumstances, +and put his money on +thirteen again.</p> + +<p>"Thirteen, Black, Odd, and Low," +said the croupier in a hollow voice.</p> + +<p>The five men in evening dress and +the three deputies moved in closer.</p> + +<p>Howley nonchalantly scraped in +his winnings, leaving the two thousand +on the thirteen spot.</p> + +<p>There was a combination of hostility +and admiration in every eye +around the table when the croupier +said, "Thirteen, Black, Odd, and +Low" for the fifth time in the space +of minutes. And everyone of those +eyes was turned on Jason Howley.</p> + +<p>The croupier smiled his professional +smile. "I'm sorry, ladies and +gentlemen; we'll have to discontinue +play for a while. The gentleman has +broken the bank at this table." He +turned the smile on Howley. "Congratulations, +sir."</p> + +<p>Howley smiled back and began +stacking up over three hundred +thousand dollars worth of plastic +disks. It made quite a pile.</p> + +<p>One of the deputies stepped up +politely. "I'm an officer, sir," he said. +"May I help you carry that to the +cashier's office?"</p> + +<p>Howley looked at the gold star +and nodded. "Certainly. Thanks."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus2" id="illus2"></a> +<img src="images/illus2.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The other two deputies stepped +up, too, and the three of them walked +Howley toward the cashier's +office. Behind them came the five men +in dinner jackets.</p> + +<p>"You'll have to step into the office +to cash that much, sir," said one of +the deputies as he opened the door. +Howley walked in as though he +hadn't a care in the world. He put +his chips on the desk, and the deputies +followed suit, while one of the +dinner-jacketed men closed the door.</p> + +<p>Then one of the deputies said: "I +believe this gentleman is carrying a +gun."</p> + +<p>He had his own revolver out and +had it pointed at Howley's middle. +"Carrying a concealed weapon is +illegal in this city," he went on. +"I'm afraid we'll have to search +you."</p> + +<p>Howley didn't object. He put his +hands up high and stood there while +his pockets were frisked.</p> + +<p>"Well, well," said the deputy +coolly. "What on Earth is this?"</p> + +<p>It was Howley's gadget, and the +dial still pointed to Thirteen—Black, +Odd, and Low.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The next morning, I went down +to the jail in response to a phone +call from Howley. The special deputies +had turned him over to the city +police and he was being held "under +suspicion of fraud." I knew we +could beat that down to an "attempt +to defraud," but the object was to +get Howley off scott-free. After +Howley told me the whole story, I +got busy pushing the case through. +As long as he was simply being held +on suspicion, I couldn't get him out +on bail, so I wanted to force the district +attorney or the police to prefer +charges.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, I made sure that +Howley's gadget had been impounded +as evidence. I didn't want anyone +fiddling with it before the case +went to court—except, of course, the +D. A. and his men. There wasn't +much I could do to keep it out of +<i>their</i> hands.</p> + +<p>After throwing as much weight +around as I could, including filing a +petition for a writ of habeas corpus +with Judge Grannis, I went over to +Howley's hotel with a signed power +of attorney that Howley had given +me, and I got a small envelope out +of the hotel safe. It contained a baggage +check.</p> + +<p>I went over to the bus depot, turned +over the check to the baggage +department, and went back to my +office with a small suitcase. I locked +myself in and opened the case. Sure +enough, it contained three dozen of +the little gadgets.</p> + +<p>Then I sat down to wait. By noon, +Judge Grannis had issued the writ +of habeas corpus, and, rather than +release Jason Howley, the police had +booked him, and District Attorney +Thursby was getting the case ready +for the grand jury. There was over +a quarter of a million dollars at +stake, and the men behind the Golden +Casino were bringing pressure to +bear. If Howley wasn't convicted, +they'd have to give him his money—and +that was the last thing they +wanted to do. A quarter of a million +bucks isn't small potatoes, even to a +gambling syndicate.</p> + +<p>It wasn't until early on the morning +of the third day after Howley's +arrest that I got a tip-off from one +of my part-time spies. I scooped up +the phone when it rang and identified +myself.</p> + +<p>"Counselor? Look, this is Benny." +I recognized the voice and name. +Benny was one of the cabbies that I'd +done favors for in the past.</p> + +<p>"What's the trouble, Benny?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no trouble. I just got a little +tip you might be interested in."</p> + +<p>"Fire away."</p> + +<p>"Well, the D.A. and some of his +boys went into the Golden Casino +about ten minutes ago, and now +they're closin' up the place. Just for +a little while, I understand. Hour, +maybe. They're chasin' everyone out +of the roulette room."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, Benny," I said, "thanks +a lot."</p> + +<p>"Well, I knew you was working +on that Howley case, and I thought +this might be important, so I—"</p> + +<p>"Sure, Benny. Come by my office +this afternoon. And thanks again."</p> + +<p>I hung up and started moving.</p> + +<p>Within ten minutes, I was pulling +up and parking across the street +from the Golden Casino. I locked +the car and dodged traffic to get +across the street, as though I'd never +heard of laws against jaywalking.</p> + +<p>There were still plenty of people +in the Casino. The bar was full, and +the dice and card games were going +full blast. The slot machines were +jingling out their infernal din while +fools fed coins into their insatiable +innards.</p> + +<p>But the roulette room was closed, +and a couple of be-Stetsoned deputies +were standing guard over the +entrance. I headed straight for +them.</p> + +<p>Both of them stood pat, blocking +my way, so I stopped a few feet in +front of them.</p> + +<p>"Hello, counselor," said one. +"Sorry, the roulette room's closed."</p> + +<p>I knew the man slightly. "Let me +in, Jim," I said. "I want to see +Thursby."</p> + +<p>The men exchanged glances. Obviously, +the D.A. had given them +orders.</p> + +<p>"Can't do it, counselor," said Jim. +"We're not to let anyone in."</p> + +<p>"Tell Thursby I'm out here and +that I want to see him."</p> + +<p>He shrugged, opened the door, +stuck his head inside, and called to +District Attorney Thursby to tell +him that I was outside. I could hear +Thursby's muffled "Damn!" from +within. But when he showed up at +the door, his face was all smiles.</p> + +<p>"What's the trouble?" he asked +pleasantly.</p> + +<p>I smiled back, giving him my +best. "No trouble at all, Thursby. I +just wanted to watch the experiment."</p> + +<p>"Experiment?" He looked honestly +surprised, which was a fine piece +of acting. "We're just checking to +see if the table's wired, that's all. If +it is, your client may be in the clear; +maybe we can hang it on the croupier."</p> + +<p>"And get a conspiracy charge on +my client, too, eh? Well, if you +don't mind, I'd like to watch that +table check myself. You know how +it is."</p> + +<p>Thursby hesitated, then he scowled. +"Oh, all right. Come on in. But +stay out of the way."</p> + +<p>I grinned. "Sure. All I want to do +is protect my client's interests."</p> + +<p>Thursby just grunted and opened +the door wider to let me in. He was +a shrewd lawyer, a good D.A., and +basically honest, even if he did have +a tendency to bend under pressure +from higher up.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>They were checking the table, all +right. They had three specialists +going over it with everything from +fine tooth combs to Geiger counters. +They found nothing. No magnets, +no wires, no mechanical gimmicks. +Nothing.</p> + +<p>It took them an hour to take that +table apart, check it, and put it back +together again. When it was all +over, Thursby glanced at me, then +said: "O.K., boys; that does it. Let's +go."</p> + +<p>The men looked at him oddly, and +I knew why.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you going to test my +client's gadget?" I asked innocently.</p> + +<p>Thursby looked angrily baffled for +a moment, then he clamped his lips +grimly. "As long as we're here, I +guess we might as well."</p> + +<p>I knew perfectly well it was what +he had intended to do all along.</p> + +<p>"One of you guys spin that +wheel," he said to the technicians. +One of them gave the wheel a spin +and dropped the ball. It clattered on +its merry way and dropped into a +slot. Forty-two.</p> + +<p>Thursby took the gadget out of +his pocket. It was still set at Thirteen.</p> + +<p>The men who had surrounded +Howley on the night of his arrest +had been keeping their eyes open, +and they had seen how Howley had +handled the thing. Well—<i>almost</i> +how. Thursby had the lens opening +pointed at the wheel, but his thumb +and fingers weren't touching the silver +plates properly.</p> + +<p>"Spin it again," he said.</p> + +<p>Everyone's eyes were on the ball +as it whirled, so I had time to get +my own copy of Howley's gadget +out and set it at Thirteen. I hoped +the thing would work for me. I concentrated +on Thirteen, making sure +my thumb and fingers were placed +right.</p> + +<p>Evidently they were. The ball fell +into Thirteen, Black, Odd, and +Low.</p> + +<p>A huge grin spread over Thursby's +face, but he was man enough +not to turn and grin at me. "Try it +again," he said.</p> + +<p>Thirteen, Black, Odd, and Low.</p> + +<p>"I wonder how the thing works?" +said Thursby, looking at the gadget +in a sort of pleased awe.</p> + +<p>"You'd better be able to prove +that it <i>does</i> work, Thursby," I said, +trying to put irritation into my +voice.</p> + +<p>This time, he did grin at me. "Oh, +I think we can prove that, all right." +He turned back to the technician. +"Spin it once more, Sam, and show +the defense counsel, here, how it +works."</p> + +<p>The technician did as he was told. +"Thirteen, Black, Odd, and Low," +he chanted, grinning.</p> + +<p>"Let's try another number," +Thursby said. He turned the dial to +One. And this time, when he pointed +it, his fingers were touching the +plates in the right places.</p> + +<p>"Just a minute," I said. "Let me +spin that thing."</p> + +<p>"Be my guest, counselor," said +Thursby.</p> + +<p>I spun the wheel and scooted the +ball along the rim. It dropped into +a slot. One, Red, Odd, and Low. I +looked as disappointed and apprehensive +as I could.</p> + +<p>"Co-incidence," I said. "Nothing +more. You haven't proved anything."</p> + +<p>Thursby's grin widened. "Of +course I haven't," he said with a +soothing, patronizing tone. "But I +don't have to prove anything until +I get to court."</p> + +<p>Then he looked at the technicians +and jerked his head toward the door. +"Let's go, boys. Maybe the counselor +wants to look over the table +for himself. Maybe he thinks we've +got it rigged."</p> + +<p>There was a chorus of guffaws as +they walked out. I just stood there, +scowling, trying to keep from laughing +even harder than they were.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Jason Howley sat next to me at +the defense table, just inside the low +partition that divided the court +from the public. There weren't many +people in the auditorium itself; listening +to some poor dope get himself +sentenced for cheating at gambling +is considered pretty dull +entertainment in the State of Nevada.</p> + +<p>Thursby had managed to push the +indictment through the grand jury +in a hurry, but, as he sat across the +room from me at the prosecution +table, I thought I could detect a +false note in the assumed look of +confidence that he was trying to +wear.</p> + +<p>Howley tapped me on the shoulder. +I turned around, and he whispered: +"How much longer?"</p> + +<p>I tapped my wrist watch. "Couple +minutes. Judge Lapworth is one of +those precisionists. Never a moment +late or early. Getting jumpy?"</p> + +<p>He shook his head gently and +smiled. "No. You've handled this +even better than I'd have imagined. +You thought of things I didn't even +know existed. I'm no lawyer; I can +see that."</p> + +<p>I returned the smile. "And I don't +invent gimmicks, either. So what?"</p> + +<p>His eyes looked at me from behind +the distorting negative lenses. +"I've been wondering, counselor—why +are you so interested in this? I +mean, I offered you a pretty good +fee, and all that, but it seems to me +you're taking an unusual interest in +the case."</p> + +<p>I grinned at him. "Mr. Howley, +my profession is Law—with a capital +L. The study of the Law isn't like +the study of physics or whatever; +these are manmade laws—commands, +not descriptions. They don't +necessarily have anything to do with +facts at all. Take the word 'insanity,' +for instance; the word isn't even +used by head-shrinkers any more because +it's a legal definition that has +nothing whatever to do with the condition +of the human mind.</p> + +<p>"Now, any such set of laws as that +can't possibly be self-consistent and +still have some use on an action +level. A lawyer's job is to find the +little inconsistencies in the structure, +the places where the pieces have been +jammed together in an effort to make +them look like a structured whole. +To find, in other words, the loopholes +and use them.</p> + +<p>"And when I find a loophole, I +like to wring everything I can out +of it. I'm enjoying this."</p> + +<p>Howley nodded. "I see. But what +if something—"</p> + +<p>I held up my hand to silence him, +because the door to the judges' chambers +opened at that moment, and +Judge Lapworth came in as the bailiff +announced him. We all stood up +while the bailiff intoned his "Oyez, +oyez."</p> + +<p>Thursby made a short preliminary +speech to the jury, and I requested +and was granted permission to hold +my own opening statement until the +defense was ready to present its +case.</p> + +<p>Thursby was looking worried, although +it took a trained eye to see it. +I was pretty sure I knew why. He +had been pushed too hard and had +gone too fast. He'd managed to slide +through the grand jury too easily, +and I had managed to get the trial +date set for a week later. Thursby's +case was far from being as tight as +he wanted it.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>I just sat still while the prosecution +brought forth its witnesses and +evidence. The croupier, the deputies, +several employees of the Golden +Casino, and a couple of patrons all +told their stories. I waived cross-examination +in every case, which made +Thursby even edgier than he had +been.</p> + +<p>When he called in the head of the +technicians who had inspected the +table at the casino, I made no objection +to his testimony, but I made my +first cross-examination.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Thompson, you have stated +your qualifications as an expert on +the various devices which have been +used to illegally influence the operation +of gambling devices in this +state."</p> + +<p>Thursby said: "Oh, if the Court +please, I should like to remind counsel +for the defense that he has already +accepted the qualifications of the +witness."</p> + +<p>"I am not attempting to impugn +the qualifications of the witness," I +snapped.</p> + +<p>Judge Lapworth frowned at Thursby. +"Are you making an objection, +Mr. District Attorney?"</p> + +<p>Thursby pursed his lips, said, +"No, Your Honor," and sat down.</p> + +<p>"Proceed with the cross-examination," +said the judge.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Thompson," I said, "you +have testified that you examined the +table at the Golden Casino for such +devices and found none. Is that +right?"</p> + +<p>"That's right," he said positively.</p> + +<p>"Have you seen the device labeled +People's Exhibit A, which was found +by the officers on the person of the +defendant?"</p> + +<p>"Well ... yes. I have."</p> + +<p>"Have you examined this device?"</p> + +<p>Thursby was on his feet. "Objection, +Your Honor! This material was +not brought out in direct examination!"</p> + +<p>"Sustained," said Judge Lapworth.</p> + +<p>"Very well, Your Honor," I said. +Then I turned back to Thompson. +"As an expert in this field, Mr. +Thompson, you have examined many +different devices for cheating gambling +equipment, haven't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have."</p> + +<p>"How many, would you say?"</p> + +<p>"Oh ... several hundred."</p> + +<p>"Several hundred different <i>types</i>?"</p> + +<p>"No. Several hundred individual +devices. Most of them are just variations +of two or three basic types."</p> + +<p>"And you are familiar with the +function of these basic types and +their variations?"</p> + +<p>"I am."</p> + +<p>"You know exactly how all of +them work, then?"</p> + +<p>He saw where I was heading. +"Most of them," he hedged.</p> + +<p>Thursby saw where I was heading, +too, and was sweating. I'd managed +to get around his objection.</p> + +<p>"Have you ever examined any +which you could not understand?"</p> + +<p>"I ... I don't quite know what +you mean."</p> + +<p>"Have you ever," I said firmly, +"come across a device used in cheating +which you could not comprehend +or explain the operation of?"</p> + +<p>Thursby stood up. "Same objection +as before, Your Honor."</p> + +<p>"Your Honor," I said, "I am merely +trying to find the limitations of +the witness' knowledge; I am not +trying to refute his acknowledged +ability."</p> + +<p>"Overruled," said Judge Lapworth. +"The witness will answer the +question."</p> + +<p>I repeated the question.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Thompson said in a low +voice.</p> + +<p>"More than once?"</p> + +<p>"Only once."</p> + +<p>"Only once. You did find one device +which didn't operate in any +fashion you can explain. Is that +right?"</p> + +<p>"That's right."</p> + +<p>"Can you tell me what this device +was?"</p> + +<p>Thompson took a deep breath. "It +was People's Exhibit A—the device +taken from the defendant at the time +of his arrest."</p> + +<p>There was a buzz in the courtroom.</p> + +<p>"No more questions," I said, turning +away. Then, before Thompson +could leave the stand, I turned back +to him. "Oh, just one moment, Mr. +Thompson. Did you examine this device +carefully? Did you take it +apart?"</p> + +<p>"I opened it and looked at it."</p> + +<p>"You just looked at it? You +didn't subject it to any tests?"</p> + +<p>Thompson took a deep breath. +"No."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"There wasn't anything inside it +to test."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>This time, there was more than +just a buzz around the courtroom. +Judge Lapworth rapped for order.</p> + +<p>When the room was quiet, I said: +"The box was empty, then?"</p> + +<p>"Well, no. Not exactly empty. It +had some stuff in it."</p> + +<p>I turned to the judge. "If the +Court please, I would like to have the +so-called device, Exhibit A, opened +so that the members of the jury may +see for themselves what it contains."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus3" id="illus3"></a> +<img src="images/illus3.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + + + +<p>Judge Lapworth said: "The Court +would like very much to see the internal +workings of this device, too. +Bailiff, if you will, please."</p> + +<p>The bailiff handed him the gadget +from the exhibit table.</p> + +<p>"How does it open?" asked the +judge. He turned to Thompson. +"Will the witness please open the +box?"</p> + +<p>Reluctantly, Thompson thumbed +the catch and slid off the top.</p> + +<p>The judge took it from him, looked +inside, and stared for a long moment.</p> + +<p>I had already seen the insides. It +was painted white, and there were +inked lines running all over the inside, +and various pictures—a ball, a +pair of dice, a roulette wheel—and +some other symbols that I didn't pretend +to understand.</p> + +<p>Otherwise, the box was empty.</p> + +<p>After a moment, Judge Lapworth +looked up from the box and stared +at Thursby. Then he looked at +Thompson. "Just what tests <i>did</i> you +perform on this ... this thing, Mr. +Thompson?"</p> + +<p>"Well, Your Honor," Thompson +said, visibly nervous, "I checked it +for all kinds of radiation and magnetism. +There isn't anything like that +coming from it. But," he added +lamely, "there wasn't much else to +test. Not without damaging the +box."</p> + +<p>"I see." His honor glared at +Thursby, but didn't say anything to +him. He simply ordered the box to +be shown to the jury.</p> + +<p>Thursby was grimly holding his +ground, waiting.</p> + +<p>"Have you any more questions, +counselor?" the judge asked.</p> + +<p>"No, Your Honor, I have not."</p> + +<p>"Witness may step down," said +his honor to Thompson.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Thursby stood up. "If the Court +please, I would like to stage a small +demonstration for the members of +the jury."</p> + +<p>The Court gave permission, and +a roulette wheel was hauled in on a +small table.</p> + +<p>I watched with interest and without +objection while Thursby demonstrated +the use of the gadget and +then asked each of the jurors in turn +to try it. It was a long way from +being a successful demonstration. +Some of the jurors didn't hold the +thing right, and some of those that +did just didn't have the mental ability +required to use it. But that didn't +bother Thursby.</p> + +<p>"Your Honor, and Gentlemen of +the Jury," he said, "you are all aware +that a device constructed for the purpose +of cheating at any gambling +game is not necessarily one hundred +per cent infallible. It doesn't have to +be. All it has to do is turn the odds +in favor of the user.</p> + +<p>"You are all familiar with loaded +dice, I'm sure. And you know that +loading dice for one set of numbers +merely increases the probability that +those numbers will come up; it does +not guarantee that they will come up +every time.</p> + +<p>"It is the same with marked +cards. Marking the backs of a deck +of cards doesn't mean that you will +invariably get a better hand than your +opponent; it doesn't even mean that +you will win every hand.</p> + +<p>"The device taken from the defendant +at the Golden Casino does +not, as you have seen, work every +time. But, as you have also seen, it +certainly <i>does</i> shift the odds by a considerable +percentage. And that, I +submit, is illegal under the laws of +this state."</p> + +<p>He went on, building on that +theme for a while, then he turned +the trial over to the defense.</p> + +<p>"Call Dr. Pettigrew to the stand," +I said.</p> + +<p>I heard Thursby's gasp, but I ignored +it.</p> + +<p>A chunky, balding man with a +moon face and an irritated expression +came up to be sworn in. He was +irritated with me for having subpoenaed +him, and he showed it. I +hoped he wouldn't turn out to be +hostile.</p> + +<p>"You are Dr. Herbert Pettigrew?" +I asked.</p> + +<p>"That is correct."</p> + +<p>"State your residence, please."</p> + +<p>"3109 La Jolla Boulevard, Los +Angeles, California."</p> + +<p>"You are called 'Doctor' Pettigrew, +I believe. Would you tell the +Court what right you have to that +title?"</p> + +<p>He looked a little miffed, but he +said: "It is a scholarly title. A Doctorate +of Philosophy in physics +from Massachusetts Institute of +Technology."</p> + +<p>"I see. Would you mind telling the +Court what other academic degrees +you have?"</p> + +<p>He reeled off a list of them, all +impressive.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, doctor," I said. +"Now, what is your present occupation?"</p> + +<p>"I am a Professor of Physics, at +the University of California in Los +Angeles."</p> + +<p>I went on questioning him to +establish his ability in his field, and +by the time I was finished, the jury +was pretty well impressed with his +status in the scientific brotherhood. +And not once did Thursby object.</p> + +<p>Then I said, "Dr. Pettigrew, I believe +you came to this city on a professional +matter?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did." He didn't hesitate +to answer, so I figured I hadn't got +his goat too much.</p> + +<p>"And what was the nature of that +matter?"</p> + +<p>"I was asked to come here by Mr. +Harold Thursby, the District Attorney, +to perform some scientific tests +on the ... er ... device ... the +device known as People's Exhibit +A."</p> + +<p>"Did you perform these tests?"</p> + +<p>"I did."</p> + +<p>"At the request of District Attorney +Thursby, is that right?"</p> + +<p>"That is correct."</p> + +<p>"May I ask why Mr. Thursby did +not call you as a witness for the +prosecution?"</p> + +<p>Thursby, as I had expected, was +on his feet. "Objection! The question +calls for a conclusion of the witness!"</p> + +<p>"Sustained," said Judge Lapworth.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Pettigrew," I said, "what +were your findings in reference to +Exhibit A?"</p> + +<p>He shrugged. "The thing is a plastic +box with a dial set in one side, a +plastic lens in one end, and a couple +of strips of silver along two other +sides. Inside, there are a lot of markings +in black ink on white paint." +He gestured toward the exhibit +table. "Just what you've seen; that's +all there is to it."</p> + +<p>"What sort of tests did you perform +to determine this, Dr. Pettigrew?" +I asked.</p> + +<p>He took a long time answering +that one. He had X-rayed the thing +thoroughly, tested it with apparatus +I'd never heard of, taken scrapings +from all over it for microchemical +analysis, and even tried it himself on +a roulette wheel. He hadn't been able +to make it work.</p> + +<p>"And what is your conclusion +from these findings?" I asked.</p> + +<p>Again he shrugged. "The thing is +just a box, that's all. It has no special +properties."</p> + +<p>"Would you say that it could be +responsible for the phenomena we +have just seen? By that, I mean the +peculiar action of the roulette wheel, +demonstrated here by the prosecution."</p> + +<p>"Definitely not," he stated flatly. +"The box could not possibly have +any effect on either the wheel or the +ball."</p> + +<p>"I see. Thank you, doctor; that's +all. Cross-examine."</p> + +<p>Thursby walked over to the witness +stand with a belligerent scowl +on his face. "Dr. Pettigrew, you say +that the box couldn't possibly have +had any effect on the wheel. And yet, +we have demonstrated that there <i>is</i> +an effect. Don't you believe the testimony +of your own senses?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly I do!" snapped Pettigrew.</p> + +<p>"Then how do you account for +the behavior of the roulette wheel +as you have just seen it demonstrated +in this court?"</p> + +<p>I suppressed a grin. Thursby was +so mad that he was having trouble +expressing himself clearly.</p> + +<p>"In several ways!" Pettigrew said +sharply. "In the first place, that +wheel could be rigged."</p> + +<p>Thursby purpled. "Now, just a +minute! I—"</p> + +<p>I started to object, but Judge Lapworth +beat me to it.</p> + +<p>"Are you objecting to the answer, +Mr. District Attorney?"</p> + +<p>"The witness is insinuating that I +falsified evidence!"</p> + +<p>"I am not!" said Pettigrew, visibly +angry. "You asked me how I could +account for its behavior, and I told +you one way! There are others!"</p> + +<p>"The wheel will be examined," +said Judge Lapworth darkly. "Tell +us the other ways, Dr. Pettigrew."</p> + +<p>"Pure chance," said Pettigrew. +"Pure chance, Your Honor. I'm sure +that everyone in this courtroom has +seen runs of luck on a roulette wheel. +According to the laws of probability, +such runs must inevitably happen. +Frankly, I believe that just such a +run has occurred here. I do not think +for a minute that Mr. Thursby or +anyone else rigged that wheel."</p> + +<p>"I see; thank you, Dr. Pettigrew," +said the judge. "Any further questions, +Mr. District Attorney?"</p> + +<p>"No further questions," Thursby +said, trying to hide his anger.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Call your next witness," said the +judge, looking at me.</p> + +<p>"I call Mr. Jason Howley to the +stand."</p> + +<p>Howley sat down and was sworn +in. I went through the preliminaries, +then asked: "Mr. Howley, you have +seen People's Exhibit A?"</p> + +<p>"I have."</p> + +<p>"To whom does it belong?"</p> + +<p>"It is mine. It was taken from me +by—"</p> + +<p>"Just answer the question, please," +I admonished him. He knew his +script, but he was jumping the gun. +"The device is yours, then?"</p> + +<p>"That's right."</p> + +<p>"Under what circumstances did +this device come into the hands of +the police?"</p> + +<p>He told what had happened on +the night of the big take at the Golden +Casino.</p> + +<p>"Would you explain to us just +what this device is?" I asked when +he had finished.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," he said. "It's a good +luck charm."</p> + +<p>I could hear the muffled reaction +in the courtroom.</p> + +<p>"A good luck charm. I see. Then +it has no effect on the wheel at all?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Howley said +disarmingly. He smiled and +looked at the jury. "It certainly has +<i>some</i> effect. It's the only good luck +charm I ever had that worked."</p> + +<p>The jury was grinning right back +at him. They were all gamblers at +heart, and I never knew a gambler +yet who didn't have some sort of +good luck charm or superstition +when it came to gambling. We had +them all in the palms of our hands.</p> + +<p>"What I mean is, does it have any +<i>physical</i> effect on the wheel?"</p> + +<p>Howley looked puzzled. "Well, I +don't know about that. That's not my +field. You better ask Dr. Pettigrew."</p> + +<p>There was a smothered laugh +somewhere in the courtroom.</p> + +<p>"Just how do you operate this +good luck charm, Mr. Howley?" I +asked.</p> + +<p>"Why, you just hold it so that +your thumb touches one strip of silver +and your fingers touch the other, +then you set the dial to whatever +number you want to come up and +wish."</p> + +<p>"<i>Wish?</i> Just <i>wish</i>, Mr. Howley?"</p> + +<p>"Just wish. That's all. What else +can you do with a good luck charm?"</p> + +<p>This time, the judge had to pound +for order to stop the laughing.</p> + +<p>I turned Howley over to Thursby.</p> + +<p>The D.A. hammered at him for +half an hour trying to get something +out of Howley, but he didn't get anywhere +useful. Howley admitted that +he'd come to Nevada to play the +wheels; what was wrong with that? +He admitted that he'd come just to +try out his good luck charm—and +what was wrong with that? He even +admitted that it worked for him +every time—</p> + +<p>And what was wrong, pray, with +<i>that</i>?</p> + +<p>Thursby knew he was licked. He'd +known it for a long time. His summation +to the jury showed it. The +expressions on the faces of the jury +as they listened showed it.</p> + +<p>They brought in a verdict of Not +Guilty.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>When I got back to my office, I +picked up the phone and called the +Golden Casino. I asked for George +Brockey, the manager. When I got +him on the phone and identified myself, +he said, "Oh. It's you." His +voice didn't sound friendly.</p> + +<p>"It's me," I said.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you're going to slap a +suit for false arrest on the Casino +now, eh, counselor?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it, George," I said. +"The thought occurred to me, but I +think we can come to terms."</p> + +<p>"Yeah?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing to it, George. You give +us the three hundred grand and we +don't do a thing."</p> + +<p>"Yeah?" He didn't get it. He had +to fork over the money anyway, according +to the court order, so what +was the deal?</p> + +<p>"If you want to go a little further, +I'll tell you what we'll do. We'll +give you one of our little good luck +charms, if you'll promise to call your +boys off Howley."</p> + +<p>"Nobody's on Howley," he said. +"You ought to know better than +that. In this state, if we get whipped +in court, we play it square. Did you +think we were going to get rough?"</p> + +<p>"No. But you kind of figured on +lifting that gadget as soon as he gets +it back from the D.A., didn't you? +I saw your boys waiting at his hotel. +I'm just telling you that you don't +have to do that. We'll give you the +gadget. There are plenty more where +that came from."</p> + +<p>"I see," Brockey said after a long +pause. "O.K., counselor. It's a deal."</p> + +<p>"Fine. We'll pick up the money +later this evening, if that's O.K."</p> + +<p>"Sure, counselor. Anytime. Anytime +at all." He hung up.</p> + +<p>I grinned at Howley, who was sitting +across the desk from me. "Well, +that winds it up."</p> + +<p>"I don't get it," Howley said. +"Why'd you call up Brockey? What +was the purpose of that 'deal'?"</p> + +<p>"No deal," I told him. "I was just +warning him that killing you and +taking the gadget wouldn't do any +good, that we've covered you. He +won't bother having anything done +to you if he knows that the +secret of the gadget is out already."</p> + +<p>Howley's eyes widened behind +those spectacles of his. "You mean +they'd kill me? I thought Nevada +gamblers were honest."</p> + +<p>"Oh, they are, they are. But this +is a threat to their whole industry. +It's more than that, it may destroy +them. Some of them might kill to +keep that from happening. But you +don't have to worry now."</p> + +<p>"Thanks. Tell me, do you think +we've succeeded?"</p> + +<p>"In what you set out to do? Certainly. +When we mail out those +gadgets to people all over the state, +the place will be in an uproar. With +all the publicity this case is getting, +it'll <i>have</i> to work. You now have a +court decision on your side, a decision +which says that a psionic device +can be legally used to influence gambling +games.</p> + +<p>"Why, man, they'll <i>have</i> to start +investigating! You'll have every politico +in the State of Nevada insisting +that scientists work on that thing. To +say nothing of what the syndicate +will do."</p> + +<p>"All I wanted to do," said Howley, +"was force people to take notice +of psionics. I guess I've done +that."</p> + +<p>"You certainly have, brother. I +wonder what it will come to?"</p> + +<p>"I wonder, myself, sometimes," +Howley said.</p> + +<p>That was three and a half years +ago. Neither Howley nor I are wondering +now. According to the front +page of today's <i>Times</i>, the first +spaceship, with a crew of eighty +aboard, reached Mars this morning. +And, on page two, there's a small +article headlined: ROCKET OBSOLETE, +SAY SCIENTISTS.</p> + +<p>It sure is.</p> + +<p>THE END</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's ...Or Your Money Back, by Gordon Randall Garrett + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ...OR YOUR MONEY BACK *** + +***** This file should be named 23534-h.htm or 23534-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/5/3/23534/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Bruce Albrecht, Mary Meehan and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: ...Or Your Money Back + +Author: Gordon Randall Garrett + +Release Date: November 18, 2007 [EBook #23534] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ...OR YOUR MONEY BACK *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Bruce Albrecht, Mary Meehan and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + ... OR YOUR MONEY BACK + + BY DAVID GORDON + + Illustrated by Summers + +[Transcriber note: This etext was produced from Astounding Science +Fiction, September 1959. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence +that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] + +[Illustration: There are lots of things that are considered perfectly +acceptable ... provided they don't work. And of course everyone knows +they really don't, which is why they're acceptable.... ] + + +There are times when I don't know my own strength. Or, at least, the +strength of my advice. And the case of Jason Howley was certainly an +instance of one of those times. + +When he came to my office with his gadget, I heard him out, trying to +appear both interested and co-operative--which is good business. But I +am forced to admit that neither Howley nor his gadget were very +impressive. He was a lean, slope-shouldered individual, five-feet-eight +or nine--which was shorter than he looked--with straight brown hair +combed straight back and blue eyes which were shielded with steel-rimmed +glasses. The thick, double-concave lenses indicated a degree of myopia +that must have bordered on total blindness without glasses, and acute +tunnel vision, even with them. + +He had a crisp, incisive manner that indicated he was either a man who +knew what he was doing or a man who was trying to impress me with a +ready-made story. I listened to him and looked at his gadget without +giving any more indication than necessary of what I really thought. + +When he was through, I said: "You understand, Mr. Howley that I'm not a +patent lawyer; I specialize in criminal law. Now, I can recommend--" + +But he cut me off. "I understand that, counselor," he said sharply. +"Believe me, I have no illusion whatever that this thing is patentable +under the present patent system. Even if it were, this gadget is +designed to do something that may or may not be illegal, which would +make it hazardous to attempt to patent it, I should think. You don't +patent new devices for blowing safes or new drugs for doping horses, do +you?" + +"Probably not," I said dryly, "although, as I say, I'm not qualified to +give an opinion on patent law. You say that gadget is designed to cause +minute, but significant, changes in the velocities of small, moving +objects. Just how does that make it illegal?" + +He frowned a little. "Well, possibly it wouldn't, except here in Nevada. +Specifically, it is designed to influence roulette and dice games." + +I looked at the gadget with a little more interest this time. There was +nothing new in the idea of inventing a gadget to cheat the red-and-black +wheels, of course; the local cops turn up a dozen a day here in the +city. Most of them either don't work at all or else they're too obvious, +so the users get nabbed before they have a chance to use them. + +The only ones that really work have to be installed in the tables +themselves, which means they're used to milk the suckers, not rob the +management. And anyone in the State of Nevada who buys a license to +operate and then uses crooked wheels is (a) stupid, and (b) out of +business within a week. Howley was right. Only in a place where gambling +is legalized is it illegal--and unprofitable--to rig a game. + +The gadget itself didn't look too complicated from the outside. It was a +black plastic box about an inch and a half square and maybe three and a +half long. On one end was a lensed opening, half an inch in diameter, +and on two sides there were flat, silver-colored plates. On the top of +it, there was a dial which was, say, an inch in diameter, and it was +marked off just exactly like a roulette wheel. + +"How does it work?" I asked. + +He picked it up in his hand, holding it as though it were a flashlight, +with the lens pointed away from him. + +"You aim the lens at the wheel," he explained, "making sure that your +thumb is touching the silver plate on one side, and your fingers +touching the plate on the other side. Then you set this dial for +whatever number you want to come up and concentrate on it while the ball +is spinning. For dice, of course, you only need to use the first six or +twelve numbers on the dial, depending on the game." + + * * * * * + +I looked at him for a long moment, trying to figure his angle. He looked +back steadily, his eyes looking like small beads peering through the +bottoms of a couple of shot glasses. + +"You look skeptical, counselor," he said at last. + +"I am. A man who hasn't got the ability to be healthily skeptical has no +right to practice law--especially criminal law. On the other hand, no +lawyer has any right to judge anything one way or the other without +evidence. + +"But that's neither here nor there at the moment. What I'm interested in +is, what do you want me to do? People rarely come to a criminal lawyer +unless they're in a jam. What sort of jam are you in at the moment?" + +"None," said Howley. "But I will be very soon. I hope." + +Well, I've heard odder statements than that from my clients. I let it +ride for the moment and looked down at the notes I'd taken while he'd +told me his story. + +"You're a native of New York City?" I asked. + +"That's right. That's what I said." + +"And you came out here for what? To use that thing on our Nevada +tables?" + +"That's right, counselor." + +"Can't you find any games to cheat on back home?" + +"Oh, certainly. Plenty of them. But they aren't legal. I wouldn't care +to get mixed up in anything illegal. Besides, it wouldn't suit my +purpose." + +That stopped me for a moment. "You don't consider cheating illegal? It +certainly is in Nevada. In New York, if you were caught at it, you'd +have the big gambling interests on your neck; here, you'll have both +them _and_ the police after you. _And_ the district attorney's office." + +He smiled. "Yes, I know. That's what I'm expecting. That's why I need a +good lawyer to defend me. I understand you're the top man in this city." + +"Mr. Howley," I said carefully, "as a member of the Bar Association and +a practicing attorney in the State of Nevada, I am an Officer of the +Court. If you had been caught cheating and had come to me, I'd be able +to help you. But I can't enter into a conspiracy with you to defraud +legitimate businessmen, which is exactly what this would be." + +He blinked at me through those shot-glass spectacles. "Counselor, would +you refuse to defend a man if you thought he was guilty?" + +I shook my head. "No. Legally, a man is not guilty until proven so by a +court of law. He has a right to trial by jury. For me to refuse to give +a man the defense he is legally entitled to, just because I happened to +think he was guilty, would be trial by attorney. I'll do the best I can +for any client; I'll work for his interests, no matter what my private +opinion may be." + +He looked impressed, so I guess there must have been a note of +conviction in my voice. There should have been, because it was exactly +what I've always believed and practiced. + +"That's good, counselor," said Howley. "If I can convince you that I +have no criminal intent, that I have no intention of defrauding anyone +or conspiring with you to do anything illegal, will you help me?" + +I didn't have to think that one over. I simply said, "Yes." After all, +it was still up to me to decide whether he convinced me or not. If he +didn't, I could still refuse the case on those grounds. + +"That's fair enough, counselor," he said. Then he started talking. + + * * * * * + +Instead of telling you what Jason Howley _said_ he was going to do, I'll +tell you what he _did_ do. They are substantially the same, anyway, and +the old bromide about actions speaking louder than words certainly +applied in this case. + +Mind you, I didn't see or hear any of this, but there were plenty of +witnesses to testify as to what went on. Their statements are a matter +of court record, and Jason Howley's story is substantiated in every +respect. + +He left my office smiling. He'd convinced me that the case was not only +going to be worthwhile, but fun. I took it, plus a fat retainer. + +Howley went up to his hotel room, changed into his expensive evening +clothes, and headed out to do the town. I'd suggested several places, +but he wanted the biggest and best--the Golden Casino, a big, plush, +expensive place that was just inside the city limits. In his pockets, he +was carrying less than two hundred dollars in cash. + +Now, nobody with that kind of chicken feed can expect to last long at +the Golden Casino unless they stick to the two-bit one-armed bandits. +But putting money on a roulette table is in a higher bracket by far than +feeding a slot machine, even if you get a steady run of lemons. + +Howley didn't waste any time. He headed for the roulette table right +away. He watched the play for about three spins of the wheel, then he +took out his gadget--in plain sight of anyone who cared to watch--and +set the dial for thirteen. Then he held it in his hand with thumb and +finger touching the plates and put his hand in his jacket pocket, with +the lens aimed at the wheel. He stepped up to the table, bought a +hundred dollars worth of chips, and put fifty on Number Thirteen. + +"No more bets," said the croupier. He spun the wheel and dropped the +ball. + +"Thirteen, Black, Odd, and Low," he chanted after a minute. With a +practiced hand, he raked in the losers and pushed out Howley's winnings. +There was sixteen hundred dollars sitting on thirteen now. Howley didn't +touch it. + +The wheel went around and the little ball clattered around the rim and +finally fell into a slot. + +"Thirteen, Black, Odd, and Low," said the croupier. This time, he didn't +look as nonchalant. He peered curiously at Howley as he pushed out the +chips to make a grand total of fifty-one thousand two hundred dollars. +The same number doesn't come up twice in succession very often, and it +is very rare indeed that the same person is covering it both times with +a riding bet. + +"Two thousand limit, sir," the croupier said, when it looked as though +Howley was going to let the fifty-one grand just sit there. + +Howley nodded apologetically and pulled off everything but two thousand +dollars worth of chips. + +The third time around, the croupier had his eyes directly on Howley as +he repeated the chant: "Thirteen, Black, Odd, and Low." Everybody else +at the table was watching Howley, too. The odds against Howley--or +anyone else, for that matter--hitting the same number three times in a +row are just under forty thousand to one. + +Howley didn't want to overdo it. He left two thousand on thirteen, raked +in the rest, and twisted the dial on his gadget over a notch. + +Everyone at the table gasped as the little ball dropped. + +"That was a near miss," whispered a woman standing nearby. + +The croupier said: "Fourteen, Red, Even, and Low." And he raked in +Howley's two thousand dollars with a satisfied smile. He had seen runs +of luck before. + +Howley deliberately lost two more spins the same way. Nobody who was +actually cheating would call too much attention to himself, and Howley +wanted it to look as though he were trying to cover up the fact that he +had a sure thing. + +He took the gadget out of his pocket and deliberately set it to the +green square marked 00. Then he put it back in his pocket and put two +thousand dollars on the Double Zero. + + * * * * * + +There was more than suspicion in the croupier's eyes when he raked in +all the bets on the table except Howley's. It definitely didn't look +good to him. A man who had started out with a fifty-dollar bet had +managed to run it up to one hundred seventy-four thousand two hundred +dollars in six plays. + +Howley looked as innocent as possible under the circumstances, and +carefully dropped the dial on his gadget back a few notches. Then he bet +another two thousand on High, an even money bet. + +Naturally, he won. + +He twisted the dial back a few more notches and won again on High. + +Then he left it where it was and won by betting on Red. + +By this time, of course, things were happening. The croupier had long +since pressed the alarm button, and five men had carefully surrounded +Howley. They looked like customers, but they were harder-looking than +the average, and they were watching Howley, not the wheel. Farther back +from the crowd, three of the special deputies from the sheriff's office +were trying to look inconspicuous in their gray uniforms and white +Stetsons and pearl-handled revolvers in black holsters. You can imagine +how inconspicuous they looked. + +Howley decided to do it up brown. He reset his gadget as surreptitiously +as possible under the circumstances, and put his money on thirteen +again. + +"Thirteen, Black, Odd, and Low," said the croupier in a hollow voice. + +The five men in evening dress and the three deputies moved in closer. + +Howley nonchalantly scraped in his winnings, leaving the two thousand on +the thirteen spot. + +There was a combination of hostility and admiration in every eye around +the table when the croupier said, "Thirteen, Black, Odd, and Low" for +the fifth time in the space of minutes. And everyone of those eyes was +turned on Jason Howley. + +The croupier smiled his professional smile. "I'm sorry, ladies and +gentlemen; we'll have to discontinue play for a while. The gentleman has +broken the bank at this table." He turned the smile on Howley. +"Congratulations, sir." + +Howley smiled back and began stacking up over three hundred thousand +dollars worth of plastic disks. It made quite a pile. + +One of the deputies stepped up politely. "I'm an officer, sir," he said. +"May I help you carry that to the cashier's office?" + +Howley looked at the gold star and nodded. "Certainly. Thanks." + +[Illustration] + +The other two deputies stepped up, too, and the three of them walked +Howley toward the cashier's office. Behind them came the five men in +dinner jackets. + +"You'll have to step into the office to cash that much, sir," said one +of the deputies as he opened the door. Howley walked in as though he +hadn't a care in the world. He put his chips on the desk, and the +deputies followed suit, while one of the dinner-jacketed men closed the +door. + +Then one of the deputies said: "I believe this gentleman is carrying a +gun." + +He had his own revolver out and had it pointed at Howley's middle. +"Carrying a concealed weapon is illegal in this city," he went on. "I'm +afraid we'll have to search you." + +Howley didn't object. He put his hands up high and stood there while his +pockets were frisked. + +"Well, well," said the deputy coolly. "What on Earth is this?" + +It was Howley's gadget, and the dial still pointed to Thirteen--Black, +Odd, and Low. + + * * * * * + +The next morning, I went down to the jail in response to a phone call +from Howley. The special deputies had turned him over to the city police +and he was being held "under suspicion of fraud." I knew we could beat +that down to an "attempt to defraud," but the object was to get Howley +off scott-free. After Howley told me the whole story, I got busy pushing +the case through. As long as he was simply being held on suspicion, I +couldn't get him out on bail, so I wanted to force the district attorney +or the police to prefer charges. + +Meanwhile, I made sure that Howley's gadget had been impounded as +evidence. I didn't want anyone fiddling with it before the case went to +court--except, of course, the D. A. and his men. There wasn't much I +could do to keep it out of _their_ hands. + +After throwing as much weight around as I could, including filing a +petition for a writ of habeas corpus with Judge Grannis, I went over to +Howley's hotel with a signed power of attorney that Howley had given me, +and I got a small envelope out of the hotel safe. It contained a baggage +check. + +I went over to the bus depot, turned over the check to the baggage +department, and went back to my office with a small suitcase. I locked +myself in and opened the case. Sure enough, it contained three dozen of +the little gadgets. + +Then I sat down to wait. By noon, Judge Grannis had issued the writ of +habeas corpus, and, rather than release Jason Howley, the police had +booked him, and District Attorney Thursby was getting the case ready for +the grand jury. There was over a quarter of a million dollars at stake, +and the men behind the Golden Casino were bringing pressure to bear. If +Howley wasn't convicted, they'd have to give him his money--and that was +the last thing they wanted to do. A quarter of a million bucks isn't +small potatoes, even to a gambling syndicate. + +It wasn't until early on the morning of the third day after Howley's +arrest that I got a tip-off from one of my part-time spies. I scooped up +the phone when it rang and identified myself. + +"Counselor? Look, this is Benny." I recognized the voice and name. Benny +was one of the cabbies that I'd done favors for in the past. + +"What's the trouble, Benny?" + +"Oh, no trouble. I just got a little tip you might be interested in." + +"Fire away." + +"Well, the D.A. and some of his boys went into the Golden Casino about +ten minutes ago, and now they're closin' up the place. Just for a little +while, I understand. Hour, maybe. They're chasin' everyone out of the +roulette room." + +"Thanks, Benny," I said, "thanks a lot." + +"Well, I knew you was working on that Howley case, and I thought this +might be important, so I--" + +"Sure, Benny. Come by my office this afternoon. And thanks again." + +I hung up and started moving. + +Within ten minutes, I was pulling up and parking across the street from +the Golden Casino. I locked the car and dodged traffic to get across the +street, as though I'd never heard of laws against jaywalking. + +There were still plenty of people in the Casino. The bar was full, and +the dice and card games were going full blast. The slot machines were +jingling out their infernal din while fools fed coins into their +insatiable innards. + +But the roulette room was closed, and a couple of be-Stetsoned deputies +were standing guard over the entrance. I headed straight for them. + +Both of them stood pat, blocking my way, so I stopped a few feet in +front of them. + +"Hello, counselor," said one. "Sorry, the roulette room's closed." + +I knew the man slightly. "Let me in, Jim," I said. "I want to see +Thursby." + +The men exchanged glances. Obviously, the D.A. had given them orders. + +"Can't do it, counselor," said Jim. "We're not to let anyone in." + +"Tell Thursby I'm out here and that I want to see him." + +He shrugged, opened the door, stuck his head inside, and called to +District Attorney Thursby to tell him that I was outside. I could hear +Thursby's muffled "Damn!" from within. But when he showed up at the +door, his face was all smiles. + +"What's the trouble?" he asked pleasantly. + +I smiled back, giving him my best. "No trouble at all, Thursby. I just +wanted to watch the experiment." + +"Experiment?" He looked honestly surprised, which was a fine piece of +acting. "We're just checking to see if the table's wired, that's all. If +it is, your client may be in the clear; maybe we can hang it on the +croupier." + +"And get a conspiracy charge on my client, too, eh? Well, if you don't +mind, I'd like to watch that table check myself. You know how it is." + +Thursby hesitated, then he scowled. "Oh, all right. Come on in. But stay +out of the way." + +I grinned. "Sure. All I want to do is protect my client's interests." + +Thursby just grunted and opened the door wider to let me in. He was a +shrewd lawyer, a good D.A., and basically honest, even if he did have a +tendency to bend under pressure from higher up. + + * * * * * + +They were checking the table, all right. They had three specialists +going over it with everything from fine tooth combs to Geiger counters. +They found nothing. No magnets, no wires, no mechanical gimmicks. +Nothing. + +It took them an hour to take that table apart, check it, and put it back +together again. When it was all over, Thursby glanced at me, then said: +"O.K., boys; that does it. Let's go." + +The men looked at him oddly, and I knew why. + +"Aren't you going to test my client's gadget?" I asked innocently. + +Thursby looked angrily baffled for a moment, then he clamped his lips +grimly. "As long as we're here, I guess we might as well." + +I knew perfectly well it was what he had intended to do all along. + +"One of you guys spin that wheel," he said to the technicians. One of +them gave the wheel a spin and dropped the ball. It clattered on its +merry way and dropped into a slot. Forty-two. + +Thursby took the gadget out of his pocket. It was still set at Thirteen. + +The men who had surrounded Howley on the night of his arrest had been +keeping their eyes open, and they had seen how Howley had handled the +thing. Well--_almost_ how. Thursby had the lens opening pointed at the +wheel, but his thumb and fingers weren't touching the silver plates +properly. + +"Spin it again," he said. + +Everyone's eyes were on the ball as it whirled, so I had time to get my +own copy of Howley's gadget out and set it at Thirteen. I hoped the +thing would work for me. I concentrated on Thirteen, making sure my +thumb and fingers were placed right. + +Evidently they were. The ball fell into Thirteen, Black, Odd, and Low. + +A huge grin spread over Thursby's face, but he was man enough not to +turn and grin at me. "Try it again," he said. + +Thirteen, Black, Odd, and Low. + +"I wonder how the thing works?" said Thursby, looking at the gadget in a +sort of pleased awe. + +"You'd better be able to prove that it _does_ work, Thursby," I said, +trying to put irritation into my voice. + +This time, he did grin at me. "Oh, I think we can prove that, all +right." He turned back to the technician. "Spin it once more, Sam, and +show the defense counsel, here, how it works." + +The technician did as he was told. "Thirteen, Black, Odd, and Low," he +chanted, grinning. + +"Let's try another number," Thursby said. He turned the dial to One. And +this time, when he pointed it, his fingers were touching the plates in +the right places. + +"Just a minute," I said. "Let me spin that thing." + +"Be my guest, counselor," said Thursby. + +I spun the wheel and scooted the ball along the rim. It dropped into a +slot. One, Red, Odd, and Low. I looked as disappointed and apprehensive +as I could. + +"Co-incidence," I said. "Nothing more. You haven't proved anything." + +Thursby's grin widened. "Of course I haven't," he said with a soothing, +patronizing tone. "But I don't have to prove anything until I get to +court." + +Then he looked at the technicians and jerked his head toward the door. +"Let's go, boys. Maybe the counselor wants to look over the table for +himself. Maybe he thinks we've got it rigged." + +There was a chorus of guffaws as they walked out. I just stood there, +scowling, trying to keep from laughing even harder than they were. + + * * * * * + +Jason Howley sat next to me at the defense table, just inside the low +partition that divided the court from the public. There weren't many +people in the auditorium itself; listening to some poor dope get himself +sentenced for cheating at gambling is considered pretty dull +entertainment in the State of Nevada. + +Thursby had managed to push the indictment through the grand jury in a +hurry, but, as he sat across the room from me at the prosecution table, +I thought I could detect a false note in the assumed look of confidence +that he was trying to wear. + +Howley tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around, and he whispered: +"How much longer?" + +I tapped my wrist watch. "Couple minutes. Judge Lapworth is one of those +precisionists. Never a moment late or early. Getting jumpy?" + +He shook his head gently and smiled. "No. You've handled this even +better than I'd have imagined. You thought of things I didn't even know +existed. I'm no lawyer; I can see that." + +I returned the smile. "And I don't invent gimmicks, either. So what?" + +His eyes looked at me from behind the distorting negative lenses. "I've +been wondering, counselor--why are you so interested in this? I mean, I +offered you a pretty good fee, and all that, but it seems to me you're +taking an unusual interest in the case." + +I grinned at him. "Mr. Howley, my profession is Law--with a capital L. +The study of the Law isn't like the study of physics or whatever; these +are manmade laws--commands, not descriptions. They don't necessarily +have anything to do with facts at all. Take the word 'insanity,' for +instance; the word isn't even used by head-shrinkers any more because +it's a legal definition that has nothing whatever to do with the +condition of the human mind. + +"Now, any such set of laws as that can't possibly be self-consistent and +still have some use on an action level. A lawyer's job is to find the +little inconsistencies in the structure, the places where the pieces +have been jammed together in an effort to make them look like a +structured whole. To find, in other words, the loopholes and use them. + +"And when I find a loophole, I like to wring everything I can out of it. +I'm enjoying this." + +Howley nodded. "I see. But what if something--" + +I held up my hand to silence him, because the door to the judges' +chambers opened at that moment, and Judge Lapworth came in as the +bailiff announced him. We all stood up while the bailiff intoned his +"Oyez, oyez." + +Thursby made a short preliminary speech to the jury, and I requested and +was granted permission to hold my own opening statement until the +defense was ready to present its case. + +Thursby was looking worried, although it took a trained eye to see it. I +was pretty sure I knew why. He had been pushed too hard and had gone too +fast. He'd managed to slide through the grand jury too easily, and I had +managed to get the trial date set for a week later. Thursby's case was +far from being as tight as he wanted it. + + * * * * * + +I just sat still while the prosecution brought forth its witnesses and +evidence. The croupier, the deputies, several employees of the Golden +Casino, and a couple of patrons all told their stories. I waived +cross-examination in every case, which made Thursby even edgier than he +had been. + +When he called in the head of the technicians who had inspected the +table at the casino, I made no objection to his testimony, but I made my +first cross-examination. + +"Mr. Thompson, you have stated your qualifications as an expert on the +various devices which have been used to illegally influence the +operation of gambling devices in this state." + +Thursby said: "Oh, if the Court please, I should like to remind counsel +for the defense that he has already accepted the qualifications of the +witness." + +"I am not attempting to impugn the qualifications of the witness," I +snapped. + +Judge Lapworth frowned at Thursby. "Are you making an objection, Mr. +District Attorney?" + +Thursby pursed his lips, said, "No, Your Honor," and sat down. + +"Proceed with the cross-examination," said the judge. + +"Mr. Thompson," I said, "you have testified that you examined the table +at the Golden Casino for such devices and found none. Is that right?" + +"That's right," he said positively. + +"Have you seen the device labeled People's Exhibit A, which was found by +the officers on the person of the defendant?" + +"Well ... yes. I have." + +"Have you examined this device?" + +Thursby was on his feet. "Objection, Your Honor! This material was not +brought out in direct examination!" + +"Sustained," said Judge Lapworth. + +"Very well, Your Honor," I said. Then I turned back to Thompson. "As an +expert in this field, Mr. Thompson, you have examined many different +devices for cheating gambling equipment, haven't you?" + +"Yes, I have." + +"How many, would you say?" + +"Oh ... several hundred." + +"Several hundred different _types_?" + +"No. Several hundred individual devices. Most of them are just +variations of two or three basic types." + +"And you are familiar with the function of these basic types and their +variations?" + +"I am." + +"You know exactly how all of them work, then?" + +He saw where I was heading. "Most of them," he hedged. + +Thursby saw where I was heading, too, and was sweating. I'd managed to +get around his objection. + +"Have you ever examined any which you could not understand?" + +"I ... I don't quite know what you mean." + +"Have you ever," I said firmly, "come across a device used in cheating +which you could not comprehend or explain the operation of?" + +Thursby stood up. "Same objection as before, Your Honor." + +"Your Honor," I said, "I am merely trying to find the limitations of the +witness' knowledge; I am not trying to refute his acknowledged ability." + +"Overruled," said Judge Lapworth. "The witness will answer the +question." + +I repeated the question. + +"Yes," Thompson said in a low voice. + +"More than once?" + +"Only once." + +"Only once. You did find one device which didn't operate in any fashion +you can explain. Is that right?" + +"That's right." + +"Can you tell me what this device was?" + +Thompson took a deep breath. "It was People's Exhibit A--the device +taken from the defendant at the time of his arrest." + +There was a buzz in the courtroom. + +"No more questions," I said, turning away. Then, before Thompson could +leave the stand, I turned back to him. "Oh, just one moment, Mr. +Thompson. Did you examine this device carefully? Did you take it apart?" + +"I opened it and looked at it." + +"You just looked at it? You didn't subject it to any tests?" + +Thompson took a deep breath. "No." + +"Why not?" + +"There wasn't anything inside it to test." + + * * * * * + +This time, there was more than just a buzz around the courtroom. Judge +Lapworth rapped for order. + +When the room was quiet, I said: "The box was empty, then?" + +"Well, no. Not exactly empty. It had some stuff in it." + +I turned to the judge. "If the Court please, I would like to have the +so-called device, Exhibit A, opened so that the members of the jury may +see for themselves what it contains." + +[Illustration] + +Judge Lapworth said: "The Court would like very much to see the internal +workings of this device, too. Bailiff, if you will, please." + +The bailiff handed him the gadget from the exhibit table. + +"How does it open?" asked the judge. He turned to Thompson. "Will the +witness please open the box?" + +Reluctantly, Thompson thumbed the catch and slid off the top. + +The judge took it from him, looked inside, and stared for a long moment. + +I had already seen the insides. It was painted white, and there were +inked lines running all over the inside, and various pictures--a ball, a +pair of dice, a roulette wheel--and some other symbols that I didn't +pretend to understand. + +Otherwise, the box was empty. + +After a moment, Judge Lapworth looked up from the box and stared at +Thursby. Then he looked at Thompson. "Just what tests _did_ you perform +on this ... this thing, Mr. Thompson?" + +"Well, Your Honor," Thompson said, visibly nervous, "I checked it for +all kinds of radiation and magnetism. There isn't anything like that +coming from it. But," he added lamely, "there wasn't much else to test. +Not without damaging the box." + +"I see." His honor glared at Thursby, but didn't say anything to him. He +simply ordered the box to be shown to the jury. + +Thursby was grimly holding his ground, waiting. + +"Have you any more questions, counselor?" the judge asked. + +"No, Your Honor, I have not." + +"Witness may step down," said his honor to Thompson. + + * * * * * + +Thursby stood up. "If the Court please, I would like to stage a small +demonstration for the members of the jury." + +The Court gave permission, and a roulette wheel was hauled in on a small +table. + +I watched with interest and without objection while Thursby demonstrated +the use of the gadget and then asked each of the jurors in turn to try +it. It was a long way from being a successful demonstration. Some of the +jurors didn't hold the thing right, and some of those that did just +didn't have the mental ability required to use it. But that didn't +bother Thursby. + +"Your Honor, and Gentlemen of the Jury," he said, "you are all aware +that a device constructed for the purpose of cheating at any gambling +game is not necessarily one hundred per cent infallible. It doesn't have +to be. All it has to do is turn the odds in favor of the user. + +"You are all familiar with loaded dice, I'm sure. And you know that +loading dice for one set of numbers merely increases the probability +that those numbers will come up; it does not guarantee that they will +come up every time. + +"It is the same with marked cards. Marking the backs of a deck of cards +doesn't mean that you will invariably get a better hand than your +opponent; it doesn't even mean that you will win every hand. + +"The device taken from the defendant at the Golden Casino does not, as +you have seen, work every time. But, as you have also seen, it certainly +_does_ shift the odds by a considerable percentage. And that, I submit, +is illegal under the laws of this state." + +He went on, building on that theme for a while, then he turned the trial +over to the defense. + +"Call Dr. Pettigrew to the stand," I said. + +I heard Thursby's gasp, but I ignored it. + +A chunky, balding man with a moon face and an irritated expression came +up to be sworn in. He was irritated with me for having subpoenaed him, +and he showed it. I hoped he wouldn't turn out to be hostile. + +"You are Dr. Herbert Pettigrew?" I asked. + +"That is correct." + +"State your residence, please." + +"3109 La Jolla Boulevard, Los Angeles, California." + +"You are called 'Doctor' Pettigrew, I believe. Would you tell the Court +what right you have to that title?" + +He looked a little miffed, but he said: "It is a scholarly title. A +Doctorate of Philosophy in physics from Massachusetts Institute of +Technology." + +"I see. Would you mind telling the Court what other academic degrees you +have?" + +He reeled off a list of them, all impressive. + +"Thank you, doctor," I said. "Now, what is your present occupation?" + +"I am a Professor of Physics, at the University of California in Los +Angeles." + +I went on questioning him to establish his ability in his field, and by +the time I was finished, the jury was pretty well impressed with his +status in the scientific brotherhood. And not once did Thursby object. + +Then I said, "Dr. Pettigrew, I believe you came to this city on a +professional matter?" + +"Yes, I did." He didn't hesitate to answer, so I figured I hadn't got +his goat too much. + +"And what was the nature of that matter?" + +"I was asked to come here by Mr. Harold Thursby, the District Attorney, +to perform some scientific tests on the ... er ... device ... the device +known as People's Exhibit A." + +"Did you perform these tests?" + +"I did." + +"At the request of District Attorney Thursby, is that right?" + +"That is correct." + +"May I ask why Mr. Thursby did not call you as a witness for the +prosecution?" + +Thursby, as I had expected, was on his feet. "Objection! The question +calls for a conclusion of the witness!" + +"Sustained," said Judge Lapworth. + +"Dr. Pettigrew," I said, "what were your findings in reference to +Exhibit A?" + +He shrugged. "The thing is a plastic box with a dial set in one side, a +plastic lens in one end, and a couple of strips of silver along two +other sides. Inside, there are a lot of markings in black ink on white +paint." He gestured toward the exhibit table. "Just what you've seen; +that's all there is to it." + +"What sort of tests did you perform to determine this, Dr. Pettigrew?" I +asked. + +He took a long time answering that one. He had X-rayed the thing +thoroughly, tested it with apparatus I'd never heard of, taken scrapings +from all over it for microchemical analysis, and even tried it himself +on a roulette wheel. He hadn't been able to make it work. + +"And what is your conclusion from these findings?" I asked. + +Again he shrugged. "The thing is just a box, that's all. It has no +special properties." + +"Would you say that it could be responsible for the phenomena we have +just seen? By that, I mean the peculiar action of the roulette wheel, +demonstrated here by the prosecution." + +"Definitely not," he stated flatly. "The box could not possibly have any +effect on either the wheel or the ball." + +"I see. Thank you, doctor; that's all. Cross-examine." + +Thursby walked over to the witness stand with a belligerent scowl on his +face. "Dr. Pettigrew, you say that the box couldn't possibly have had +any effect on the wheel. And yet, we have demonstrated that there _is_ +an effect. Don't you believe the testimony of your own senses?" + +"Certainly I do!" snapped Pettigrew. + +"Then how do you account for the behavior of the roulette wheel as you +have just seen it demonstrated in this court?" + +I suppressed a grin. Thursby was so mad that he was having trouble +expressing himself clearly. + +"In several ways!" Pettigrew said sharply. "In the first place, that +wheel could be rigged." + +Thursby purpled. "Now, just a minute! I--" + +I started to object, but Judge Lapworth beat me to it. + +"Are you objecting to the answer, Mr. District Attorney?" + +"The witness is insinuating that I falsified evidence!" + +"I am not!" said Pettigrew, visibly angry. "You asked me how I could +account for its behavior, and I told you one way! There are others!" + +"The wheel will be examined," said Judge Lapworth darkly. "Tell us the +other ways, Dr. Pettigrew." + +"Pure chance," said Pettigrew. "Pure chance, Your Honor. I'm sure that +everyone in this courtroom has seen runs of luck on a roulette wheel. +According to the laws of probability, such runs must inevitably happen. +Frankly, I believe that just such a run has occurred here. I do not +think for a minute that Mr. Thursby or anyone else rigged that wheel." + +"I see; thank you, Dr. Pettigrew," said the judge. "Any further +questions, Mr. District Attorney?" + +"No further questions," Thursby said, trying to hide his anger. + + * * * * * + +"Call your next witness," said the judge, looking at me. + +"I call Mr. Jason Howley to the stand." + +Howley sat down and was sworn in. I went through the preliminaries, then +asked: "Mr. Howley, you have seen People's Exhibit A?" + +"I have." + +"To whom does it belong?" + +"It is mine. It was taken from me by--" + +"Just answer the question, please," I admonished him. He knew his +script, but he was jumping the gun. "The device is yours, then?" + +"That's right." + +"Under what circumstances did this device come into the hands of the +police?" + +He told what had happened on the night of the big take at the Golden +Casino. + +"Would you explain to us just what this device is?" I asked when he had +finished. + +"Certainly," he said. "It's a good luck charm." + +I could hear the muffled reaction in the courtroom. + +"A good luck charm. I see. Then it has no effect on the wheel at all?" + +"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Howley said disarmingly. He smiled and looked +at the jury. "It certainly has _some_ effect. It's the only good luck +charm I ever had that worked." + +The jury was grinning right back at him. They were all gamblers at +heart, and I never knew a gambler yet who didn't have some sort of good +luck charm or superstition when it came to gambling. We had them all in +the palms of our hands. + +"What I mean is, does it have any _physical_ effect on the wheel?" + +Howley looked puzzled. "Well, I don't know about that. That's not my +field. You better ask Dr. Pettigrew." + +There was a smothered laugh somewhere in the courtroom. + +"Just how do you operate this good luck charm, Mr. Howley?" I asked. + +"Why, you just hold it so that your thumb touches one strip of silver +and your fingers touch the other, then you set the dial to whatever +number you want to come up and wish." + +"_Wish?_ Just _wish_, Mr. Howley?" + +"Just wish. That's all. What else can you do with a good luck charm?" + +This time, the judge had to pound for order to stop the laughing. + +I turned Howley over to Thursby. + +The D.A. hammered at him for half an hour trying to get something out of +Howley, but he didn't get anywhere useful. Howley admitted that he'd +come to Nevada to play the wheels; what was wrong with that? He admitted +that he'd come just to try out his good luck charm--and what was wrong +with that? He even admitted that it worked for him every time-- + +And what was wrong, pray, with _that_? + +Thursby knew he was licked. He'd known it for a long time. His summation +to the jury showed it. The expressions on the faces of the jury as they +listened showed it. + +They brought in a verdict of Not Guilty. + + * * * * * + +When I got back to my office, I picked up the phone and called the +Golden Casino. I asked for George Brockey, the manager. When I got him +on the phone and identified myself, he said, "Oh. It's you." His voice +didn't sound friendly. + +"It's me," I said. + +"I suppose you're going to slap a suit for false arrest on the Casino +now, eh, counselor?" + +"Not a bit of it, George," I said. "The thought occurred to me, but I +think we can come to terms." + +"Yeah?" + +"Nothing to it, George. You give us the three hundred grand and we don't +do a thing." + +"Yeah?" He didn't get it. He had to fork over the money anyway, +according to the court order, so what was the deal? + +"If you want to go a little further, I'll tell you what we'll do. We'll +give you one of our little good luck charms, if you'll promise to call +your boys off Howley." + +"Nobody's on Howley," he said. "You ought to know better than that. In +this state, if we get whipped in court, we play it square. Did you think +we were going to get rough?" + +"No. But you kind of figured on lifting that gadget as soon as he gets +it back from the D.A., didn't you? I saw your boys waiting at his hotel. +I'm just telling you that you don't have to do that. We'll give you the +gadget. There are plenty more where that came from." + +"I see," Brockey said after a long pause. "O.K., counselor. It's a +deal." + +"Fine. We'll pick up the money later this evening, if that's O.K." + +"Sure, counselor. Anytime. Anytime at all." He hung up. + +I grinned at Howley, who was sitting across the desk from me. "Well, +that winds it up." + +"I don't get it," Howley said. "Why'd you call up Brockey? What was the +purpose of that 'deal'?" + +"No deal," I told him. "I was just warning him that killing you and +taking the gadget wouldn't do any good, that we've covered you. He won't +bother having anything done to you if he knows that the secret of the +gadget is out already." + +Howley's eyes widened behind those spectacles of his. "You mean they'd +kill me? I thought Nevada gamblers were honest." + +"Oh, they are, they are. But this is a threat to their whole industry. +It's more than that, it may destroy them. Some of them might kill to +keep that from happening. But you don't have to worry now." + +"Thanks. Tell me, do you think we've succeeded?" + +"In what you set out to do? Certainly. When we mail out those gadgets to +people all over the state, the place will be in an uproar. With all the +publicity this case is getting, it'll _have_ to work. You now have a +court decision on your side, a decision which says that a psionic device +can be legally used to influence gambling games. + +"Why, man, they'll _have_ to start investigating! You'll have every +politico in the State of Nevada insisting that scientists work on that +thing. To say nothing of what the syndicate will do." + +"All I wanted to do," said Howley, "was force people to take notice of +psionics. I guess I've done that." + +"You certainly have, brother. I wonder what it will come to?" + +"I wonder, myself, sometimes," Howley said. + +That was three and a half years ago. Neither Howley nor I are wondering +now. According to the front page of today's _Times_, the first +spaceship, with a crew of eighty aboard, reached Mars this morning. And, +on page two, there's a small article headlined: ROCKET OBSOLETE, SAY +SCIENTISTS. + +It sure is. + +THE END + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's ...Or Your Money Back, by Gordon Randall Garrett + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ...OR YOUR MONEY BACK *** + +***** This file should be named 23534.txt or 23534.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/5/3/23534/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Bruce Albrecht, Mary Meehan and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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