HE PLAYED IT SMART

As he watched her walking slowly past him, Harry Webster smiled to himself.  This was the one he had been waiting for.  There was no mistaking the type: middle thirties, stiletto heels, sheath dress, too much lip rouge.  It was a rare evening he didn't find at least one of them, and this one seemed too good to be true: clearly looking for a man.  But there was something he had to find out first.

   He followed her to the next stall and stood close behind her as she opened her handbag and extracted a coin for the attendant to change.  He pressed against her for the brief moment necessary to see the well-stuffed purse in her handbag and then said,

    "I'm so sorry.  Somebody pushed me."

    She smiled to let him know it was all right and then proceeded to roll the first coin onto the squared and numbered board.

    Harry Webster persisted.  "It's a mug's game, really, because you never stop when you're ahead."

    She turned round and smiled again.  "Oh, you're an expert on these things, are you, Mister . . . ?"

    "Call me Harry," he suggested.  "Yes, I've seen too much of this sort of thing.  The percentage always favours the house.  Of course the stakes are different in Monty."

    "Monty?"

    "Yes.  You know, on the Riviera."

    "Oh . . .  Oh yes, Monty."

    "Look here," said Harry, the light of inspiration shining from his eyes.  "I hope you won't think me too forward, but you seem to be alone.  How about sharing some of the other things with me?  They're far more fun than this lark, and it's more enjoyable when there are two of you."

    This was the part he liked most.  Knowing they were dying to say "Yes", and desperately hoping he wouldn't give up too easily.  Well, she needn't worry, he had no intention of giving up.

    "I don't really know."  She looked at her watch and pouted.  "I was supposed to meet a friend here, but it doesn't look as if she's going to show up now."

    "Well that settles it then," said Harry, taking her arm.  They usually liked that little touch - the masculine approach - but wasn't it marvellous the way they were always waiting for a friend.  Aloud he said: "Well now, you know my name, so what am I to call you."

    They went to the hoop-la stand first and left it with a china dog.  Then on to the dart boards and rifle range, by which time they had added two ashtrays and a plastic comb to their collection of trophies.  They were both a little breathless by the time they had ridden the dodgem cars, and rolled around the big dipper, and revolved in the airplanes, which made it, Harry decided, just about the right time to suggest the Tunnel of Love.

    "Ooh," she drew a deep breath at the suggestion.  "I don't think I ought to, really."

    But of course she did, as Harry knew all along she would.  Oh he was really a smart fellow!  He even knew the precise moment at which to put his arm around her shoulders in the tunnel, and exactly when to press his lips on hers.

    "No, you mustn't," she squealed, right on cue.

    "Go on," laughed Harry.  "The attendant would think he had to refund our money if I left here without lipstick on my face."

    And so she kissed him, and went on kissing him, right up to the moment when the boat drifted out into the evening air.  Then, as they left the boat she looked once more at her wristwatch and said,

    "Good heavens, look at the time."

    Harry looked at his own watch.

    "My goodness, yet," he exclaimed, "I've got to dash."

    Her face dropped.

    "Oh, must you?  I was hoping I could invite you back for a cup of coffee."

    It always gave his ego a boost when the invitation came, even though he knew it was inevitable.  This time, however, as he looked at her disappointed face, he felt he could almost detect, beneath her make-up, some little thing extra that the others had not had and, for a moment, he was almost tempted to accept her invitation.  But, of course, he couldn't.

    He said, "No, really, I'm sorry, but I've arranged to meet someone at ten o'clock, and it's almost that now."

    "Not a girl friend?"

    "No, silly, a man.  But I'll tell you what, give me your phone number and I'll ring you up.  We might make the flicks sometime later this week."

    She grabbed his wrist and giggled, then took a pen that was clipped to his top jacket pocket, and wrote a number on the back of his hand.

    "Now make sure you don't wash it off before you call me."  She giggled again.

    Still playing it smart, as always, Harry waited until he got home before examining the purse he had so cleverly lifted from under her nose, while kissing her in the Tunnel of Love.  My word, he thought, looking at its bulk, I've made a real haul here.  And then his face dropped as he withdrew sheet after sheet of toilet paper from inside the purse, coming finally to a small card on which was written: "Never forget there's always someone a little smarter than you.  But don't worry, there are enough suckers to go round."

    And that was when he discovered that his wallet was missing.  And not only his, but the two others he had lifted earlier that evening.