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"
But
what
if
mine
host
simply
hands
over
Barrington
’
s
card
and
tells
Abraham
that
he
’
s
come
into
some
good
fortune
?
"
asked
Shadow
.
"
Then
we
’
re
out
the
cost
of
two
dinners
,
"
said
Wednesday
.
He
wiped
the
remaining
gravy
and
leftovers
from
his
plate
with
a
slice
of
bread
,
which
he
ate
with
lip
-
smacking
relish
.
"
Let
me
see
if
I
’
ve
got
it
straight
,
"
said
Shadow
.
"
So
Abraham
leaves
,
nine
thousand
dollars
the
richer
,
and
in
the
parking
lot
by
the
train
station
he
and
Barrington
meet
up
.
They
split
the
money
,
get
into
Barrington
’
s
Model
A
Ford
and
head
for
the
next
town
.
I
guess
in
the
trunk
of
that
car
they
must
have
a
box
filled
with
hundred
-
dollar
violins
.
"
"
I
personally
made
it
a
point
of
honor
never
to
pay
more
than
five
dollars
for
any
of
them
,
"
said
Wednesday
.
Then
he
turned
to
the
hovering
waitress
.
"
Now
,
my
dear
,
regale
us
with
your
description
of
the
sumptuous
desserts
available
to
us
on
this
,
our
Lord
’
s
natal
day
.
"
He
stared
at
her
—
it
was
almost
a
leer
—
as
if
nothing
that
she
could
offer
him
would
be
as
toothsome
a
morsel
as
herself
.
Shadow
felt
deeply
uncomfortable
:
it
was
like
watching
an
old
wolf
stalking
a
fawn
too
young
to
know
that
if
it
did
not
run
,
and
run
now
,
it
would
wind
up
in
a
distant
glade
with
its
bones
picked
clean
by
the
ravens
.
The
girl
blushed
once
more
and
told
them
that
dessert
was
apple
pie
,
apple
pie
à
la
mode
—
"
That
’
s
with
a
scoop
of
vanilla
ice
cream
"
—
Christmas
Cake
,
Christmas
Cake
à
la
mode
,
or
a
red
and
green
whipped
pudding
.
Wednesday
stared
into
her
eyes
and
told
her
that
he
would
try
the
Christmas
Cake
à
la
mode
.
Shadow
passed
.
"
Now
,
as
grifts
go
,
"
said
Wednesday
,
"
the
Fiddle
Game
goes
back
three
hundred
years
or
more
.
And
if
you
pick
your
chicken
correctly
you
could
still
play
it
tomorrow
anywhere
in
America
.
"
"
I
thought
you
said
that
your
favorite
grift
was
no
longer
practical
,
"
said
Shadow
.
"
I
did
indeed
.
However
,
that
is
not
my
favorite
.
It
was
fine
and
enjoyable
,
but
not
my
favorite
.
No
,
my
favorite
was
one
they
called
the
Bishop
Game
.
It
had
everything
:
excitement
,
subterfuge
,
portability
,
surprise
.
Perhaps
,
I
think
from
time
to
time
,
perhaps
with
a
little
modification
,
it
might
…
"
He
thought
for
a
moment
,
then
shook
his
head
.
"
No
.
Its
time
has
passed
.
It
is
,
let
us
say
,
1920
,
in
a
city
of
medium
to
large
size
—
Chicago
,
perhaps
,
or
New
York
,
or
Philadelphia
.
We
are
in
a
jeweler
’
s
emporium
.
A
man
dressed
as
a
clergyman
—
and
not
just
any
clergyman
,
but
a
bishop
,
in
his
purple
—
enters
and
picks
out
a
necklace
,
a
gorgeous
and
glorious
confection
of
diamonds
and
pearls
,
and
pays
for
it
with
a
dozen
of
the
crispest
hundred
-
dollar
bills
.
"
There
’
s
a
smudge
of
green
ink
on
the
topmost
bill
and
the
store
owner
,
apologetically
but
firmly
,
sends
the
stack
of
bills
to
the
bank
on
the
corner
to
be
checked
.
Soon
enough
,
the
store
clerk
returns
with
the
bills
.
The
bank
says
they
are
none
of
them
counterfeit
.
