Chapter 2

They dragged me into a shower big enough for us all and washed me good, behind the ears and all. I didn't have any clean clothes with me, but they said I'd pass muster at the buffet we were headed to. When we got there it looked like wall-to-wall breakfast, and I did all the damage I possibly could.

They decided I needed to move in with them after breakfast, and I didn't mind letting them talk me into it. I was going to be here through the World Series of Poker at least, and if they wanted me to stay with them I'd be glad to. I even offered to pay them for the privilege.

"Hell, you ain't ugly or nothing. You ain't Tom Cruise, but he's a short wimpy weirdo anyway, all he's got is a pretty face. I'd kinda like to have you around and if you want to help with expenses we won't take offence," Sharon said.

"Big titties are everywhere in Vegas, but a gal with big real titties can do all the good if she runs into a connoisseur.

"Me and Sharon don't sell our pussy, but we don't mind trying to make sure we're sharing it with a guy who can and might be generous," Gail said.

"Well, if you can put up with me I think you've found a roomy for a while," I said.

With the World Series of Poker over and me winning two bracelets and a shit load of cash, for fuck's sake, I thought it was high time for me to evacuate Las Vegas. What with all the confusion I figured I could get my money and get gone before the IRS started asking questions. Hell, they had my address at Binion's and the government could just bill me.

There was no doubt I'd miss Gail and Sharon a lot, and since I had more money now than I'd had before I even bought my truck and trailer, I thought I might as well share a little of it. Parting was going to be sweet sorrow for sure, but I hoped that a little cash might help them heal.

I managed to gather my things and pack up my trailer without waking them, but I went in to nudge them awake just before noon. They were a little sad to hear I was leaving but I could tell they'd get over it by and by.

It helped a little that I was leaving each of them fifty thousand in cash as a going away present. Matter of fact they were so happy about that they spent an hour and a half trying to fuck me senseless, and what the hell, I helped.

It was even more of a teary goodbye when I finally left. They made me promise to find them if I came back to Vegas, and I did promise. I also told them that it wouldn't be for a year or two if it ever did happen.

With my trailer hooked up and my tanks full, I was headed out of town when I started thinking about all that cash money I was carrying around. It was nearly a million in hundreds now and it was getting to be a pain to find a place to store the bulky stuff. I found another camper place to stash my trailer for a few hours and put the cash in my truck.

It wasn't hard to find a few pawnshops and I bought some bargains while I asked around. I was looking to turn most of my bills into gold. A few bucks for information and I got the word about where I could find the best deal.

I also found a really nice old Colt Single Action Army while I was poking around. I asked to see it because something looked a little funny about it. When I had it in my hands I realized that it wasn't original at all. The handgrips looked right but the barrel and the cylinder didn't.

"What's the story on this one?" I asked the proprietor.

"The story is that some jackass tried to make a modern pistol out of a priceless antique. He had more money than sense and he paid a lot to have his two nearly perfect Single Action Armies upgraded with modern steel barrels and cylinders.

"The idiot could have sold the two Colts and bought a couple of Rugers that look almost the same and still had a few thousand dollars left over."

"Were the Colts in that kind of shape before he had them dicked with?" I asked.

"They were the best two I'd ever seen, and had sequential serial numbers too."

"Do you have both of them?" I asked.

"Yeh," he said, and pulled the mate from under the counter for me to fondle.

"How do they shoot now?" I asked.

"Oh they're fine, they'll never be as good as a Ruger but they're a hell of a lot more gun than they started out life as, still it was a big fucking waste of money. I laughed like hell when the fool lost his ass thinking he was a big time poker player.

I didn't even give him enough for 'em to get back the money it cost to convert the things," he said, laughing a little as he remembered it.

Nothing beats a gun with a history, unless it's two with the same history. I dickered with the guy and got them both for twenty-five hundred bucks. When I bought a couple of Rugers in the same caliber to see how they compared, he threw in the old time two gun holster rig that he had for the Colts and he gave me a hell of a deal on primers, dies, bullets and powder. I even picked up some bullet molds, gas checks and a hundred pounds of Linotype for casting bullets. I already had all the rest of the stuff for casting, since I had a couple of black powder rifles.

After buying the gold ingots I only had thirty thousand in cash to worry about. I put the gold in the box with my guns and headed back to Texas. I wouldn't go back to East Texas but there were plenty of places out West that I liked. I might even drift down into Mexico and check out the senoritas for a while.

But not right now. Fucking around to buy the gold and then getting side tracked on the Colts had it late in the afternoon. I pulled into the next motel I found and got a room for the night. It wasn't the nicest place I'd ever stayed, but it was good enough for a night and the food in the restaurant was first rate.