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table is in a higher bracket by far thanfeeding a slot machine, even if you get a steady run of lemons.

  Howley didn't waste any time. He headed for the roulette table rightaway. He watched the play for about three spins of the wheel, then hetook out his gadget--in plain sight of anyone who cared to watch--andset the dial for thirteen. Then he held it in his hand with thumb andfinger touching the plates and put his hand in his jacket pocket, withthe lens aimed at the wheel. He stepped up to the table, bought ahundred dollars worth of chips, and put fifty on Number Thirteen.

  "No more bets," said the croupier. He spun the wheel and dropped theball.

  "Thirteen, Black, Odd, and Low," he chanted after a minute. With apracticed hand, he raked in the losers and pushed out Howley's winnings.There was sixteen hundred dollars sitting on thirteen now. Howley didn'ttouch it.

  The wheel went around and the little ball clattered around the rim andfinally fell into a slot.

  "Thirteen, Black, Odd, and Low," said the croupier. This time, he didn'tlook as nonchalant. He peered curiously at Howley as he pushed out thechips 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 itis very rare indeed that the same person is covering it both times witha riding bet.

  "Two thousand limit, sir," the croupier said, when it looked as thoughHowley was going to let the fifty-one grand just sit there.

  Howley nodded apologetically and pulled off everything but two thousanddollars worth of chips.

  The third time around, the croupier had his eyes directly on Howley ashe repeated the chant: "Thirteen, Black, Odd, and Low." Everybody elseat the table was watching Howley, too. The odds against Howley--oranyone else, for that matter--hitting the same number three times in arow are just under forty thousand to one.

  Howley didn't want to overdo it. He left two thousand on thirteen, rakedin 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 inHowley's two thousand dollars with a satisfied smile. He had seen runsof luck before.

  Howley deliberately lost two more spins the same way. Nobody who wasactually cheating would call too much attention to himself, and Howleywanted it to look as though he were trying to cover up the fact that hehad a sure thing.

  He took the gadget out of his pocket and deliberately set it to thegreen square marked 00. Then he put it back in his pocket and put twothousand dollars on the Double Zero.

  * * * * *

  There was more than suspicion in the croupier's eyes when he raked inall the bets on the table except Howley's. It definitely didn't lookgood to him. A man who had started out with a fifty-dollar bet hadmanaged to run it up to one hundred seventy-four thousand two hundreddollars in six plays.

  Howley looked as innocent as possible under the circumstances, andcarefully dropped the dial on his gadget back a few notches. Then he betanother 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 longsince pressed the alarm button, and five men had carefully surroundedHowley. They looked like customers, but they were harder-looking thanthe average, and they were watching Howley, not the wheel. Farther backfrom the crowd, three of the special deputies from the sheriff's officewere trying to look inconspicuous in their gray uniforms and whiteStetsons and pearl-handled revolvers in black holsters. You can imaginehow inconspicuous they looked.

  Howley decided to do it up brown. He reset his gadget as surreptitiouslyas possible under the circumstances, and put his money on thirteenagain.

  "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 onthe thirteen spot.

  There was a combination of hostility and admiration in every eye aroundthe table when the croupier said, "Thirteen, Black, Odd, and Low" forthe fifth time in the space of minutes. And everyone of those eyes wasturned on Jason Howley.

  The croupier smiled his professional smile. "I'm sorry, ladies andgentlemen; we'll have to discontinue play for a while. The gentleman hasbroken the bank at this table." He turned the smile on Howley."Congratulations, sir."

  Howley smiled back and began stacking up over three hundred thousanddollars 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."

  The other two deputies stepped up, too, and the three of them walkedHowley toward the cashier's office. Behind them came the five men indinner jackets.

  "You'll have to step into the office to cash that much, sir," said oneof the deputies as he opened the door. Howley walked in as though hehadn't a care in the world. He put his chips on the desk, and thedeputies followed suit, while one of the dinner-jacketed men closed thedoor.

  Then one of the deputies said: "I believe this gentleman is carrying agun."

  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'mafraid we'll have to search you."

  Howley didn't object. He put his hands up high and stood there while hispockets 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 callfrom Howley. The special deputies had turned him over to the city policeand he was being held "under suspicion of fraud." I knew we could beatthat down to an "attempt to defraud," but the object was to get Howleyoff scott-free. After Howley told me the whole story, I got busy pushingthe case through. As long as he was simply being held on suspicion, Icouldn't get him out on bail, so I wanted to force the district attorneyor the police to prefer charges.

  Meanwhile, I made sure that Howley's gadget had been impounded asevidence. I didn't want anyone fiddling with it before the case went tocourt--except, of course, the D. A. and his men. There wasn't much Icould do to keep it out of _their_ hands.

  After throwing as much weight around as I could, including filing apetition for a writ of habeas corpus with Judge Grannis, I went over toHowley'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 baggagecheck.

  I went over to the bus depot, turned over the check to the baggagedepartment, and went back to my office with a small suitcase. I lockedmyself in and opened the case. Sure enough, it contained three dozen ofthe little gadgets.

  Then I sat down to wait. By noon, Judge Grannis had issued the writ ofhabeas corpus, and, rather than release Jason Howley, the police hadbooked him, and District Attorney Thursby was getting the case ready forthe 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. IfHowley wasn't convicted, they'd have to give him his money--and that wasthe last thing they wanted to do. A quarter of a million bucks isn'tsmall potatoes, even to a gambling syndicate.

  It wasn't until early on the morning of the third day after Howley'sarrest that I got a tip-off from one of my part-time spies. I scooped upthe phone when it rang and identified myself.

  "Counselor? Look, this is Benny." I recognized the voice and name. Bennywas 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 aboutten minutes ago, and now they're closin' up the place. Just for a littlewhile, I understand. Hour, maybe. They're chasin' everyone out of theroulette room."

  "Thanks, Benny," I said, "thanks a lot."

  "Well, I knew you was working on that Howley case, and I thought thismight 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 fromthe Golden Casino.