been searching for a way to repay him. As we left the police
station, I thought I had the answer.
“Say, J.R.,” I said, turning to him on the steps, “about
that business you want to start . . . how much capital would
you need to get started?”
I could see his neck stiffening as I spoke.
“I told you before, Mr. Skeeve, I won’t take a reward
for saving your life.”
“Who said anything about a reward? I’m talking about
investing in your operation and taking a share of the profits.”
That one stopped him in his tracks.
“You’d do that?”
“Why not? I’m a businessman and always try to keep an
eye open for new ventures to back. The trickiest thing is
131
Robert Asprin
132
finding trustworthy principals to manage the investments.
In your case, you’ve already proved to me that you’re
trustworthy. So how much would you need for this plan of
yours?”
The street vendor thought for a few moments.
“Even with backing I’d want to start small and build.
Figuring that. . . yeah. I think about five thousand in gold
would start things off right.”
“Oh,” I said, intelligently. I wasn’t about to question
his figures, but the start-up cost was higher than I had
expected. I only had a couple thousand with me, and most
of that was going to cover Edvick’s services and the hotel
bill. So much for a grand gesture!
“I’ll … uh … have to think about it.”
J.R.’s face fell.
“Yeah. Sure. Well, you know where to find me when you
make up your mind.”
He turned and strode off down the street without looking
back. It was silly to feel bad about not fulfilling an offer I