Bertha smiled at him. “That’s nice. Perhaps we’ll be seeing you.”
“Staying long?” the man asked me as we settled ourselves in the automobile which would take us to town. “I don’t know.”
“Business?”
“Yes.”
Bertha Cool was up in the front seat beside the driver. The man leaned over so his lips were close to my ear.
“I take it then you aren’t acquainted here in Las Vegas?”
“No.”
We rode on for a while, then he said, “The Sal Sagev Hotel is a nice place to stay. Name’s hard to remember until you realize that it’s just Las Vegas spelled backwards. This certainly is a great town. Reno gets the advertising, but Las Vegas has just as much color as Reno. Sometimes I think more. It’s more distinctive, more individual.”
“I’ve been to both places.”
“Well, you know what it’s like then. I get a kick out of it.”