R. A. Lafferty Super Pack. R. A. Lafferty

      Of the five hundred there were a hundred and forty-four winners, very good. So the next day she went to the hundred and forty-four with even more assurance and offered them the same proposition again. And of the hundred and forty-four there were fifty-six winners. Very good, for she really could pick them.

      To these fifty-six she went the third day and offered them the third sure bet free. And incredibly of the fifty-six there were nineteen winners.

      This was repeated the next day, and of the nineteen there were seven winners.

      Now she went to talk money. The seven lucky clients could not deny that she indeed had the gift of picking winners. She had given them all four straight in four days and her secret should surely be worth money. Besides, they had all let their bets ride and they had won a lot, an average of more than six hundred dollars.

      But she would give no more free tips. She would only sell her complete and exclusive secret for a thousand dollars. And she collected from six of them. The seventh was Mazuma O’Shaunessey.

      “I have given you four straight winners, but I cannot give you any more free tips. We will now talk cold turkey.”

      “O, put it in a basket, Katie.”

      “Why, what do you mean, sir?”

      “I learned it in my cradle. The Inverted Pyramid. You tapped five hundred, and you got besides me how many? Five?”

      “Six besides you, seven in all.”

      “Very good. You pick them nice for a little girl. But isn’t that a lot of work for no more than a hatful of money?”

      “Six thousand dollars is a large hatful. And there is always one smart alec like you who knows it all.”

      “Now Kate dear, let’s look at it this way. I can really pick all the winners, not seven straights in five hundred, but all five hundred if I wished.”

      “O hah, you can’t fool this little-goose.”

      “O, I could prove it easily enough, but that’s showy and I hate to be a show-off. So I suggest that you take my word for it and share my secret with me and give up this penny ante stuff.”

      “And all you want for your sure thing secret is five thousand dollars or so?”

      “Why Kate, I don’t want your money. I have so much that it’s a burden to me. I only want to marry you.”

       *

      She looked at him and she was not sure. O, not about marrying him, he was nice enough. She was not sure, she had never been sure, that he was a Wreck.

      “Are you?”

      “Why Kate, does one Wreck have to ask another that question?”

      “I guess not. I’ll go ask my uncles what they think. This is something of a decision.”

      She went to see all her bachelor uncles and asked them what they knew about Mazuma O’Shaunessey.

      He was known to all of them.

      “He is a competent boy, Kate,” said Demetrio Petapolis. “If I do not miscount I once came out a little short on a deal with him. He knows the Virginia City Version, he knows the old Seven-Three-Three, he can do the Professor and His Dog, and the Little Audrey. And he seems to be quite rich. But is he?”

      He meant, not is he rich, but—is he a Wreck?

      “Does one Wreck have to ask another that question?” said Kate.

      “No, I guess not.”

       *

      Hodl Oskanian knew him too.

      “That boy is real cute. It seems in the last deal I had with him he came out a little ahead. It seems that in every deal I have with him he comes out a little ahead. He knows the Denver Deal and the Chicago Cut. He does the Little Old Lady and the Blue Hat. He knows the Silver Lining and the Doghouse and the Double Doghouse. And he seems quite likeable. But is he?”

      He meant, not was he likeable, but—was he a Wreck?

      “Cannot one Wreck always tell another?” said Kate loftily.

       *

      Lars Petersen knew Mazuma too.

      “He is a klog pog. He knows the Oslo Puds and the Copenhagen Streg. He knows the Farmer’s Wife and the Little Black Dog. He can do the Seventy-Three and the Supper Club. And he runs more tricks with the Sleepy River than anyone I ever saw, and has three different versions of the Raft and four of Down the Smoke Stack. And all the officers on the bilk squad give him half their pay every week to invest for them. He seems quite smart. But is he?”

      He meant, not was he smart, but—is he a Wreck?

      “Should one have to ask?” said Kate haughtily.

       *

      Her uncle Charley O’Malley also thought well of Mazuma. “I am not sure but that at last count he was a raol or so ahead of me. He knows the Blue Eyed Drover and the Black Cow. He can do the Brandy Snifter with the best of them, and he isn’t bashful with the Snake Doctor. He does a neat variation of the Bottom of the Barrel. He can work the Yellow Glove and the Glastonburry Giveaway. And he seems affable and urbane. But is he?”

      He meant, not was he affable and urbane (he was), but—is he a Wreck? Ah, that was the question.

      “How can you even ask?” said Kate.

       *

      So they were married and began one of the famous love affairs of the century. It went on for four years and each day brought new high adventure. They purged for the good of his soul a Dayton industrialist of an excessive sum of cash and thus restored his proper sense of values and taught him that money isn’t everything. They toured the world in gracious fashion and took no more than their ample due for their comfortable maintenance. They relaxed the grip of tight-fisted Frenchmen and retaught them the stern virtues of poverty. They enforced an austere regime of abstinence and hard work on heretofore over-wealthy and over-weight German burghers and possibly restored their health and prolonged their lives. They had special stainless steel buckets made to bury their money in, and these they scattered in many countries and several continents. And they had as much fun as it is allowed mortals to have.

      One pleasant afternoon Mazuma O’Shaunessey was in jail in a little town in Scotland. The jailer was gloomy and suspicious and not given to joking.

      “No tricks from you now. I will not be taken.”

      “Just one to show I have the power. Stand back so I can’t reach you.”

      “I’m not likely to let you.”

      “And hold up a pound note in one hand as tightly as you can. I will only flick my handkerchief and the note will be in my hand and no longer in yours.”

      “Man I defy you. You cannot do it.”

      He held the note very tightly and closed his eyes with the effort. Mazuma flicked his handkerchief, but the Scotsman was right. He could not do it. This was the only time that Mazuma ever failed. Though the world quivered on its axis (and it did) yet the note was held so tightly that no power could dislodge it. But when the world quivered on its axis the effect was that Mazuma was now standing outside the cell and the Scotsman was within. And when the Chief came some minutes later Mazuma was gone and the Scotch jailer stood locked in the cell, his eyes still closed and the pound note yet held aloft in a grip of steel. So he was fired, or cashiered as the Old Worlders call it, for taking a bribe and letting a prisoner escape. And this is what usually comes as punishment to overly suspicious persons.

       *

      Katie still used the Inverted Pyramid and very effectively. Mazuma did not really have an unfailing talent for picking winners. He’d only said