Style, you
either have it or you
don't. And if you have it, you have it
all the time.The Rogue's Gambit
by Tux Toledo
Page 12
The post-tournament dinner was excellent. Real game birds,
not clay ones, were served in a light butter sauce with plenty of Napa
Valley's finest grape juice to go around. Tasty.
All in all, a first class meal. Too bad Rigger didn't have an
appetite. He picked at his meal with disinterest.
Something was eating him. He finally pushed his plate away
and left the table.
"Where's Richard going?" Ted asked. "I hope he doesn't wander
too far away and miss the awards ceremony."
"Why?" Nancy asked. "Are they going to give him an award for
the worst shooter?"
"Nance, that's not a nice thing to say," Ted said.
Nancy tossed her napkin on the table and rose. Then someone
struck up the band and diners quickly became dancers. We were
all separated from each other in the ensuing mayhem. I
eventually found Ted extricating himself from a human sandwich.
"Where's Nance?" Ted asked.
"I don't know," I said. "Someone said they saw her going back
out on the shooting course."
"What's she doing there?" Ted asked.
"She is following Mr. Rigger, sir," James said, appearing next to Ted.
"What? Why is she doing that? And what's Richard
doing?"
"He is looking for something, sir."
"What on earth for?" Ted asked.
"A pot of gold," I said.
Ted looked at me funny.
© 2008 David Biagini