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 Style, you either have it or you don't. And if you have it, you have it all the time.

The Rogue Makes A Comeback

by Tux Toledo

Page 4


Rodney beamed.

"Yes, I just bought it at an auction.  I outbid these two for it."
Sledgeton and the other man snarled.

"Oh, by the way, do you know these gentlemen?" Rodney asked, exaggerating his pronunciation of "gentlemen".

"Tom Sledgeton," Sledgeton said to me as if we had never met.

"I'm Edgar Littleton," the other said as he shook my hand.  He was a small man with Ivy League glasses and a bald head.

"Pleased to meet you," I said.

"All three of us went to Wharton Business School together," Rodney said.  "We've been friends ever since.  We have the same hobbies, the same interests, the same everything.  Why, we could be triplets!" he laughed.  "They're a bit sore at me now, though, because I outbid them for this shotgun.  She's a beauty, isn't she?"

Rodney raised the double barrel shotgun for all to see.  It had a gold pheasant intricately engraved above the trigger and the stock glowed like finely polished furniture.  It was the most beautiful shotgun I had ever seen - even more beautiful than the ones Ted Nance collected.

"It's a vintage A. J. Roberts," Rodney said.  "Cost me $125,000."

I whistled.

"But she's worth every penny," Rodney continued.  "Look at that detail work.  And the barrel has not been re-blued.  That shine is original."

"You've got yourself a masterpiece," I said.

"I know.  And they don't."  Rodney poked his nose at his two friends and grinned.  "Edgar went out of the bidding surprisingly early.  But Tom fought me all the way."

"Until you drastically overpaid for it," Tom said.  "Still, I should have continued bidding.  That A. J. Roberts would have been the crown jewel of my collection.  I wanted it badly, but Rodney always seems to know what my limit is."

Rodney laughed and patted Sledgeton on the shoulder.

"Go get a drink and drown your sorrow," he said.

Sledgeton nodded and slithered off.

"I've got a new company, too, Winston."

Edgar frowned and adjusted his frames.


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© 2008 David Biagini