"Ah, Corporal Poulson," the captain said, rolling up little balls of paper and tossing them in a cup at the end of his desk. "Come in, make yourself comfortable."

"Yes, sir," Poulson said and apprehensively walked towards the center of the office.

"There was something important I needed you to do," the captain said uncertainly, tearing the corner off a piece of parchment and rolling it into a ball. "Do you remember why I called Poulson in here?"

"The money from the thief, sir," Key offered, pretending to be engrossed in a letter.

"Ah, yes," Castor said, stretching lazily on his chair. "We caught a thief today, and we need someone to take the stolen items to the treasury. Now, where did I put that bag?" Castor said, shuffling around his already messy desk. "Did I give it to you?"

Key looked up at the captain, thinking about how best to keep up with his unplanned dialogue. This was the third time they had run through the scenario. With each performance came more and more theatrics. He opened some wrong drawers before finally opening the one holding the coin purse with fifteen silver talents and one gold royal.

"It's right here, sir," he said, hefting the bag on top of his desk. "Do you want me to count it first?"

"You haven't counted the money yet?!" the captain nearly yelled, desperately trying to fight back a smile.

"I apologize, sir, I see so many of these that I almost forgot about it," Key responded. "I haven't even looked inside. Do you want me to count it now?"

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"No, no, the treasury can handle it. It's their job to count coins anyway." The captain straightened in his chair. "You haven't taken any of them out, have you?"

"No, sir," Key replied.

"Well, you lost your chance," Castor pointed at the bag. "Poulson, will you take that money to the treasury before Corporal Key gets any wild ideas?"

"Begging your pardon, sir, but I have more honor than to pinch a few Marks from a street rat's coin purse," Key said, improvising as Poulsen took the bag off his desk.

"You should take one of these," Castor said, proffering a wax-sealed letter, "They aren't expecting it, so this letter will explain where we got it from and remind them to pay their taxes and such."

Poulsen took the letter from Castor, saluted the best he could with his hands full, and left the office.

"If I had known having a company of thugs would be this much fun, I would have done it significantly earlier," Castor said, not waiting to hear fading footsteps. "Any bets on whether or not he's our third in a row?"

"I think he's going to take the bait," Key guessed, buttoning his shirt. "Unless he's outside listening to us now. You didn't even wait to see if he left or not."

Castor stood up, moved to the door, and swung it open, revealing an empty doorway. "I would take that bet if he didn't look so eager to take a peek at the coins."

"Too bad, I was about to bet a full talent," Key said carelessly.

"That's a big increase from your last bet," Castor said, noticing the sky through the doorway. "I would be willing to make that bet with you just to see you bet some real coins for once. In fact, you have yourself a deal."

"It's okay," Key said, holding up his hands in defense. "I might have been bluffing when I said that."

"There are no takebacks," Castor informed him, pulling out a silver talent and setting it on his desk. "The rule with betting is if one person makes a wager and the other accepts, the bet stands. Besides, the odds are in your favor, and I fully intend to lose.

"I have to be somewhere at sundown. Stay here, and don't leave until one of us wins the bet." He took out a key from his inner pocket and placed it next to the silver coin. "If you lose, just leave your coin on the desk before you lock up. I will be very disappointed if I find two coins here in the morning, but don't let that deter you from losing nobly."