...Or Your Money Back | Page 2

the plate on the other side. Then you set this dial for whatever

number you want to come up and concentrate on it while the ball is
spinning. For dice, of course, you only need to use the first six or
twelve numbers on the dial, depending on the game."
* * * * *
I looked at him for a long moment, trying to figure his angle. He looked
back steadily, his eyes looking like small beads peering through the
bottoms of a couple of shot glasses.
"You look skeptical, counselor," he said at last.
"I am. A man who hasn't got the ability to be healthily skeptical has no
right to practice law--especially criminal law. On the other hand, no
lawyer has any right to judge anything one way or the other without
evidence.
"But that's neither here nor there at the moment. What I'm interested in
is, what do you want me to do? People rarely come to a criminal lawyer
unless they're in a jam. What sort of jam are you in at the moment?"
"None," said Howley. "But I will be very soon. I hope."
Well, I've heard odder statements than that from my clients. I let it ride
for the moment and looked down at the notes I'd taken while he'd told
me his story.
"You're a native of New York City?" I asked.
"That's right. That's what I said."
"And you came out here for what? To use that thing on our Nevada
tables?"
"That's right, counselor."
"Can't you find any games to cheat on back home?"
"Oh, certainly. Plenty of them. But they aren't legal. I wouldn't care to

get mixed up in anything illegal. Besides, it wouldn't suit my purpose."
That stopped me for a moment. "You don't consider cheating illegal? It
certainly is in Nevada. In New York, if you were caught at it, you'd
have the big gambling interests on your neck; here, you'll have both
them and the police after you. And the district attorney's office."
He smiled. "Yes, I know. That's what I'm expecting. That's why I need
a good lawyer to defend me. I understand you're the top man in this
city."
"Mr. Howley," I said carefully, "as a member of the Bar Association
and a practicing attorney in the State of Nevada, I am an Officer of the
Court. If you had been caught cheating and had come to me, I'd be able
to help you. But I can't enter into a conspiracy with you to defraud
legitimate businessmen, which is exactly what this would be."
He blinked at me through those shot-glass spectacles. "Counselor,
would you refuse to defend a man if you thought he was guilty?"
I shook my head. "No. Legally, a man is not guilty until proven so by a
court of law. He has a right to trial by jury. For me to refuse to give a
man the defense he is legally entitled to, just because I happened to
think he was guilty, would be trial by attorney. I'll do the best I can for
any client; I'll work for his interests, no matter what my private opinion
may be."
He looked impressed, so I guess there must have been a note of
conviction in my voice. There should have been, because it was exactly
what I've always believed and practiced.
"That's good, counselor," said Howley. "If I can convince you that I
have no criminal intent, that I have no intention of defrauding anyone
or conspiring with you to do anything illegal, will you help me?"
I didn't have to think that one over. I simply said, "Yes." After all, it
was still up to me to decide whether he convinced me or not. If he
didn't, I could still refuse the case on those grounds.

"That's fair enough, counselor," he said. Then he started talking.
* * * * *
Instead of telling you what Jason Howley said he was going to do, I'll
tell you what he did do. They are substantially the same, anyway, and
the old bromide about actions speaking louder than words certainly
applied in this case.
Mind you, I didn't see or hear any of this, but there were plenty of
witnesses to testify as to what went on. Their statements are a matter of
court record, and Jason Howley's story is substantiated in every respect.
He left my office smiling. He'd convinced me that the case was not
only going to be worthwhile, but fun. I took it, plus a fat retainer.
Howley went up to his hotel room, changed into his expensive evening
clothes, and headed out to do the town. I'd suggested several places, but
he wanted the biggest and best--the Golden Casino, a big, plush,
expensive place that was just inside