Earlier That Evening ....

UPDATE: If you haven't read Tuesday's post you should do before you read this one.

You know how this story ends. Here is the prelude to that ending ....



The Boss was a big man. Really big. Not tall - five foot nine or ten, maybe. But he was huge.

He sat behind his huge desk, in his huge chair in front of the huge picture window that looked out over Frontier Street, Las Vegas' downtown and home to the casinos.

The Kid sat in one of the two overstuffed armchairs that faced the Boss's desk. His leg was thrown over one arm of the chair, and he was cleaning his fingernails with the point of his stiletto.

"Take off your hat Kid. It's impolite to wear your hat indoors." The Boss's voice didn't seem to fit him. That breathless, high pitched whisper was totally unexpected in a man his size.

The Kid place his grey 'stingy brim' on the floor next to the chair. "Yeah, sure Boss. No problem."

"So, waddya want? Chico said you wanted to see me."

"Yes, I did send Chico. Normally I would have sent Sully, but that's part of the problem I want to talk to you about. There seems to be some dissension in the ranks. And Sully seems to be at the locus of that dissension. He seems to think your recent activities have alerted the Law to us. He seems to think you're out of control, and that you represent an extreme danger to this whole organization. You're not out of control, are you Kid?"

"Nah, you know better than that. Don't I always do what you want? Don't I always do what you tell me to do? Sully, he's just gettin' soft, that's all. He doesn't like gettin' pushed by the new guys - like me."

"Yes, but it's your methods, Kid. It's the WAY you do what I want you to do that he's bothered with. And now, I fear, he may take a course of action that may expose us to danger. I believe Sully has talked to some of our 'official' contacts and made arrangements to turn you in. I don't want that to happen. You are far too important to this organization."

The Kid cut through the air with his knife.

"You want me to stick 'im, Boss? I can send him back to Chicago in little pieces for ya, if that's whatcha want."

"No, Kid, I've a different idea in mind."

He reached under his desk and pulled out a beautiful red lacquered box, which he carefully place on his desk. He flipped the two brass latches on the box and opened it.

"Come around to this side of the desk, Kid. I've something for you."

As The Kid walked around the desk, he could see the shiny new gun in the case. As he moved up close to the Boss's chair, the Boss suddenly, with cat-like grace and speed, whipped the gun out of it's case and stuck the muzzle in The Kid's ribs.

"Hah, GOTCHA!!"

The Kid flinched and jumped away.

"Don't worry, Kid, I'm not going to kill you. Just playing a bit. How do you like this?"

He flipped the gun around and handed it to The Kid, butt first.

"Gee, Boss, this is a nice piece. I never had a piece this nice before."

"Yes, Kid, it is a very nice piece. It's all loaded and ready to go. Now I'll tell you what I want."

The Kid sat down in his chair, twirling the gun.

"I'm sending Sully over to the Cheese Warehouse tonight about 10 o'clock. I would suggest to you, that if you were to be in that alley with your nice new gun, perhaps we could see an end to the divisiveness which is beginning to permeate our ranks."

"Okay, Boss. I getcha."

The Kid got up and began to walk toward the door.

"Oh, and Kid, watch out for the rats in that alley. They'll eat you alive."