“I know. Let’s write that one off.”
“How much luck are we entitled to?” Carmen was not looking for an argument, but it was plain that he was being nagged.
“As much as comes,” Dave said.
“I guess so. Around the crap table it’s always a new roll. The dice aren’t supposed to average out. Say you make the hard four, that doesn’t hurt your price on the hard eight next time. Always a new roll. I can’t believe it. Assuming honest dice, I mean.”
“You’re superstitious, Carmen, aren’t you?”
Carmen lifted himself on an elbow. In the glow of the fire his expression was eager and very shrewd. “You mean religious, don’t you, Dave?”
“No, I don’t.” It began almost as a cry of alarm, but Dave brought it short. “Well, have it your way.”
“Feel this.” Carmen fumbled under his shirt and held out a piece
