...Or Your Money Back | Page 9

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