His partner owed his life to the fact that the arresting officer thought it suspicious that a man would have nine pairs of pants in his suitcase and only three shirts and two pairs of sox, and took them in for investigation. When l talked to my parole officer, l told him that l was not going to be working with Paul. l would encourage him to return to the Bay Area since my assayer job required a big part of my intellect and l already had additional endeavors
(designing the circular dream house and painting in oils). ln the few days that Paul was with us, he and l visited Felix's. Slot machines are not unknown to people in Chicago, especially those with connections. But Paul knew enough about how they work (in Lovelock as well as Chicago) that he was able to provoke machines to provoke machines to drop impressive amounts of coins.
l'm almost certain that he had some kind of tool that made it happen, but l never saw anything of that kind. l had been around slot machines since in my teens and before Paul at Felix's l had never even heard that such a thing was possible. l warned Paul to be careful; cheating any casino games was against State law and casino owners always file complaints against cheaters, to warn off others. He was very careful and put quite a bit of Felix's money in his pocket with Felix none the wiser. Paul was disappointed that we would not be working together, but he understood that, with so much on my plate then, it just wasn't
possible then. Once that was settled, he was anxious to get back to his work in
San Francisco. We would cross trails with him again, in the no-too-distant future.
When we were at the VW dealer in Reno, buying our first new car, we encountered Harley Latta, a good friend and fellow high-school student that l hadn't seen since then. He had a business, and his home in Shurz, Nevada, a tiny town near Hawthorne, Nevada. He owned a service station, cafe (with slot machines) and a motel, two rooms of which served as Shurz's Post Office. Harley's wife, Ruth was the Postmaster. (Postmistress?) Harley invited us to visit them in Shurz to see what they had built there. Walker Lake (about 1/10
the area of Lake Tahoe) was located about seven miles south of Shurz on U.S.
Hwy 95. After Harley and Ruth showed us around their little town, we all got in their station wagon and rode to Walker Lake and visited the bar/cafe located about a mile from the lake's west shore. The back bar was all window and afforded a stunning view of the lake and the sage and juniper covered hills beyond, from any bar stool in the house. The view from most tables in the cafe
was the same. They had brought us to the lake to show and tell us about their plan to put a casino on a boat on the lake. He had already done a lot of ground-work and was sure (from talking to Mineral County officials) that, if the casino/
boat was properly constructed,as well as the facilities for servicing, maintenance
and repairing it, the plan could be approved. Art's problem was that constructing a full-scale, paddle-wheel "river boat" would require a huge amount of money;
more than either or both of us could possibly raise. Art knew that l had lived in California in recent years and asked me to check with some boat dealers to learn where we might find something to fit his need. He was thinking of some degree of partnership between us.
That eventually led me to an old SanFrancisco Bay Ferry, the "Stockton", then resting in drydock in SanCarlos, Ca. l was told that the owners wanted to sell it,
though they had yet to advertise it's availability. l thought that a boat of it's size
and design might make it possible to appear much like a river steamer with side-mounted paddle-wheels and other identifying characteristics. Harley and l talked about it on the phone about it. He liked it, and thought it was worth a trip to San Carlos to check it out. The only person l knew who had a lot of boat knowledge was my friend and fellow locksmith at Soledad, Chuck C. l had been thinking about him since Harley first mentioned the boat on the lake. l decided
to attempt a call.Pasadena information had a number fo him. l hadn't forgotten
the fraternizing prohibition, but felt if the parole officer would allow Paul and l
in the same room, he was going to be OK with Chuck and l having a short meeting to survey the usefullness (if any) of the old ferry.Chuck had a couple
days to spare and agreed to meet me at the dry dock in San Carlos. Well. l liked
the Stockton and what l imagined what it would look like in it's planned identity.
Chuck liked it too,but thought it would be impossible (or impossibly costly) to
move to Walker Lake. He said that the Stockton, when delivered new, weighed
2,000 tons. He showed us (Dahlia and Reyann had accompanied me) places where concrete had been poured to provide more ballast. He estimated that at least a few hundred tons were added to the boat's weight by those pours. Chuck's advice was to forget the Stockton; build a big raft on the lake. then build a 3 or 4 story casino/hotel on the raft. Doll the whole thing up with nautical touches (don't forget the paddle-wheels, and rig them to actually propel
the boat). This project kept my attention for a few weeks but the more time l spent on it the less likely it's fruition seemed. Eventually,l had to see it as failing
and decided to stop.
The samples l received for assay were always in my in-box no later than 6PM. They were almost always brought to me by Willy Sherman, Mining Operations
Manager of A.R.D.'s Coal Canyon works. He loved running the mines, but, like most of us, he had good things to do after work, too. ln his case it was what he called "bustin' horses". Willy had never so much as heard the phrase "horse whisperer". He'd pretty much have to be called a "horse shouter". l accepted an invitation to see his operation, once. l would not say that his treatment of his horses even approached abuse, though it seemed that his horses would just as soon have lived somewhere else. But then any horses, captive as they were, would choose to roam the plains. Willy knew that too. Once he had broken a horse to carry saddle and rider, he kept in a locked stall or the fenced exercise
yard when it was not at work. l was impressed with Willy's ranch, especially in
the way it was laid out to operate with high efficiency and little difficulty. Far and
away, a much better ranch operation than l'd ever seen before. Some years later, l saw Willy and his wife with a few of their best horses on RFD TV. Probably
among the best horsin' around l've EVER seen. Those horses, by the way, appeared to be having a grear time.
We had been in Lovelock about six months when l learned that Dulce and her husband,Bob Wright lived in Lovelock. l called her and we had a pretty good
talk. She invited me to visit and to meet Bob. She answered the door, then
quickly returned to Bob and sat on his lap. l only stayed twenty minutes or so
but when l left she was still on his lap. l couldn't help but think she liked him more than she ever liked me, like l was probably supposed to. Our visit was good though. None of us displayed any bad feeling, nor had any reason to.
Especially since we did have families of our own. Bob and Dulce lived on the eastern outskirts of Lovelock. Dahlia,Reyann and l lived near central downtown.
Lovelock's 25-mile-an-hour speed limit extended from town central, three miles
to the west and three miles to the east. Six miles of 25-mile-per-hour limit, most of it outside the town limit. The chief of Police, GordonRichardson,stopped
me, but didn't ticket me. He just followed me at 25MPH as l led the parade back
to town central. After about a ten minute sermon he let me go with a warning.
Pretty serious Police Business? lt was for Gordon.
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