You got that right, Dave. Flying with a young son and forced down by bad weather, we finally found a room in a a small hotel in a disreputable part of town. The next morning my wallet was on the floor stripped clean. The lock wasn't much and probably half the town had a key.
At office the next day I said I wished I had caught the guy to teach him a lesson. A reporter who had been a hard-rock miner asked how much I had in the wallet. A hundred bucks, I said, (a lot of money at the time). "You're lucky you didn't wake up. A stab in the liver could have ruined your life."
Last edited by King Brown; 02/15/10 05:39 PM.