"Pure chance," said Pettigrew. "Pure chance, Your Honor. I'm sure that everyone in this courtroom has seen runs of luck on a roulette wheel. According to the laws of probability, such runs must inevitably happen. Frankly, I believe that just such a run has occurred here. I do not think for a minute that Mr. Thursby or anyone else rigged that wheel." "I see; thank you, Dr. Pettigrew," said the judge. "Any further questions, Mr. District Attorney?" "No further questions," Thursby said, trying to hide his anger. * * * * * "Call your next witness," said the judge, looking at me. "I call Mr. Jason Howley to the stand." Howley sat down and was sworn in. I went through the preliminaries, then asked: "Mr. Howley, you have seen People's Exhibit A?" "I have." "To whom does it belong?" "It is mine. It was taken from me by--" "Just answer the question, please," I admonished him. He knew his script, but he was jumping the gun. "The device is yours, then?" "That's right." "Under what circumstances did this device come into the hands of the police?" He told what had happened on the night of the big take at the Golden Casino. "Would you explain to us just what this device is?" I asked when he had finished. "Certainly," he said. "It's a good luck charm." I could hear the muffled reaction in the courtroom. "A good luck charm. I see. Then it has no effect on the wheel at all?" "Oh, I wouldn't say that," Howley said disarmingly. He smiled and looked at the jury. "It certainly has _some_ effect. It's the only good luck charm I ever had that worked." The jury was grinning right back at him. They were all gamblers at heart, and I never knew a gambler yet who didn't have some sort of good luck charm or superstition when it came to gambling. We had them all in the palms of our hands. "What I mean is, does it have any _physical_ effect on the wheel?" Howley looked puzzled. "Well, I don't know about that. That's not my field. You better ask Dr. Pettigrew." There was a smothered laugh somewhere in the courtroom. "Just how do you operate this good luck charm, Mr. Howley?" I asked. "Why, you just hold it so that your thumb touches one strip of silver and your fingers touch the other, then you set the dial to whatever number you want to come up and wish." "_Wish?_ Just _wish_, Mr. Howley?" "Just wish. That's all. What else can you do with a good luck charm?" This time, the judge had to pound for order to stop the laughing. I turned Howley over to Thursby. The D.A. hammered at him for half an hour trying to get something out of Howley, but he didn't get anywhere useful. Howley admitted that he'd come to Nevada to play the wheels; what was wrong with that? He admitted that he'd come just to try out his good luck charm--and what was wrong with that? He even admitted that it worked for him every time-- And what was wrong, pray, with _that_?