ers throwing the computers off and
croupiers making mistakes paying off and collecting--and always
mistakes against me, Malone. Always. It's like a curse. Even the hotel
bills--three of them this week were made out too small and the
customer paid up and went before I found out about it."

"It sounds like a curse," Malone said. "Either that or there are spies
in the organization."

"Spies?" Palveri said. "With the checking we do? With the way I've
known some of these guys from childhood? They were little kids with
me, Malone. They stuck with me all the way. And with Castelnuovo,
too," he added hurriedly.

"Sure," Malone said. "But they could still be spies."

Palveri nodded sadly. "I thought of that," he said. "I fired four of
them. Four of my childhood friends, Malone. It was like cutting off an
arm. And all it did was leave me with one arm less. The same mistakes
go on happening."

Malone stood up and heaved a sigh. "Well," he said, "I'll see what I
can do."

"I'd appreciate it, Malone," Palveri said. "And when Primo Palveri
appreciates something, he _appreciates_ it. Get what I mean?"

"Sure," Malone said. "I'll report back and let you know what happens."

Palveri looked just as anxious, but a little hopeful. "I need the
dough," he said. "I really need it."

"With dough," Malone said, "you could fix up what's been happening?"

Palveri shrugged. "Who knows?" he said. "But I could stay open long
enough to find out."

Malone went back to the gaming room feeling that he had learned
something, but not being quite sure what. Obviously whatever
organization was mixing everything up was paying just as much
attention to gangsters as to congressmen and businessmen. The simple
justice of this arrangement did not escape Malone, but he failed to
see where it led him.

[Illustration]

He considered the small chance that Palveri would actually call
Castelnuovo and check up on Kenneth J. Malone, but he didn't think it
was probable. Palveri was too desperate to take the chance of making
his boss mad in case Malone's story were true. And, even if the check
were made, Malone felt reasonably confident. It's hard to kill a man
who has a good, accurate sense of precognition and who can teleport
himself out of any danger he might get into. Not impossible, but hard.
Being taken for a ride in the desert, for instance, might be an
interesting experience, but could hardly prove inconvenient to anybody
except the driver of the