ong spots. Redman had the dice. He rolled. Eight--a
five and a three. "Let it ride," he said,--and I jumped nervously. He
should have said, "Leave it." But the diceman was no purist. Another
roll--seven. The diceman looked inquiringly at Redman. The big man
shook his head, and rolled again--four. Three rolls later he made his
point. Then he rolled another seven, another seven, and an eleven. And
the pile of munits in front of him had become a respectable heap.

"One moment, sir," the diceman said as he raked in the dice. He rolled
them in his hands, tossed them in the air, and handed them back.

"That's enough," Redman said. "Cash me in."

"But--"

"I said I had enough."

"Your privilege, sir."

"One more then," Redman said, taking the dice and stuffing munits into
his jacket. He left a hundred on the board, rolled, and came up with a
three. He grinned. "Thought I'd pushed my luck as far as it would go,"
he said, as he stuffed large denomination bills into his pockets.

* * * * *

I sidled up to him. "Get out of here, buster," I said. "That diceman
switched dice on you. You're marked now."

"I saw him," Redman replied in a low voice, not looking at me. "He's
not too clever, but I'll stick around, maybe try some more roulette."

"It's your funeral," I whispered through motionless lips.

He turned away and I left. There was no reason to stay, and our little
talk just might have drawn attention. They could have a probe tuned on
us now. I went down the strip to Otto's and waited. It couldn't have
been more than a half hour later that Redman came by. He was looking
over his shoulder and walking fast. His pockets, I noted, were
bulging. So I went out the back door, cut down the serviceway to the
next radius street, and flagged a cab.

"Where to, mister?" the jockey said.

"The strip--and hurry."

The jockey fed propane to the turbine and we took off like a scorched
zarth. "Left or right?" he asked as the strip leaped at us. I crossed
my fingers, estimated the speed of Redman's walk, and said, "Right."

We took the corner on two of our three wheels and there was Redman,
walking fast toward the south airlock, and behind him, half-running,
came two of Abie's goons.

"Slow down--_fast_!" I yapped, and was crushed against the back of the
front seat as the jock slammed his foot on the brakes. "In here!" I
yelled at Redman as I swung the rear door open.

His reflexes were good. He