He only talked to people if it was about money. Once a month he conversed with the Bouvier girl that collected his rent and that was it. He liked that...girl, and he almost regretted the stunt he had just pulled on his tenants. He sat on the train thinking about the events that led to this trip to Vegas. At sixty-nine years old, he’d lost everything that he had worked for his entire life. It’s this damn economy.he mused. I worked for Baxter’s Industry for the last thirty-eight years of my life. I asked again, "Do you want me to rip it off?" No, no leave me alone." What's your name?"Just a little twisting got, "Mark Fenton." Who sent you, Mark Fenton?"This time it took more twisting until I got, "Helen." Who's Helen?"This took even more twisting until I got, "Helen Stevens." Marcy's sister?"With no twisting I got, "Cousin," and it seemed that he gave up now by the way he slumped."Get up." Mark needed some help to do so. When he was on his feet I saw that he was much larger than I was.. More

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