The proprietor finally spoke over youthful screaming. "Okay, so I'll pay. Pago, pago... you little son of a bitch." He pulled a handful of gAu notes out of his cash box and shoved them at the boy. "Now get out."
The black kid was out the door before anyone else. Rosas eyed his departure thoughtfully. Tellman went on, plaintive-ly, talking as much to himself as anyone else. "I don't know. I just don't know. The little bastard has been in here all morn-ing. I swear he had never seen a game board before. But he watched and watched. Diego Martinez had to explain it to him. He started playing. Had barely enough money. And he just got better and better. I never seen anything like it.... In fact" - he brightened and looked at Mike - "in fact, I think I been set up. I betcha the kid is carrying a processor and just pretending to be young and dumb. Hey, Rosas, how about that? I should be protected. There's some sorta con here, especially on that last game. He-
" - really did have a snowball's chance, eh, Telly?" Rosas finished where the proprietor had broken off. "Yeah, I know. You had a sure win. The odds should have been a thousand to one-not the even money you gave him. But I know sym-biotic processing, and there's no way he could do it without some really expensive equipment." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Naismith nod agreement. "Still"-he rubbed his jaw and looked out into the brightness beyond the entrance - "I'd like to know more about him."
Naismith followed him out of the tent, while behind them Tellman sputtered. Most of the children were still visible, standing in clumps along the Tinkers' mall.
The mysterious winner was nowhere to be seen.