The Silver Tombstone

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Once you cross El Cajon Pass you can coast for a number of miles, but eventually you hit a flat stretch of road and then your car stops. From this point you can see the lights of San Bernardino, but you are still quite a few miles away — on a dark, lonely road.

“Well,” said Johnny Fletcher, applying the emergency brake, “so much for your stars.”

Big Sam Cragg winced. “What’ve the stars got to do with us running out of gas?”

“You tell me. The stars told you to come out to California. And here we are, right in the middle of it — in the middle of the night.”

“That isn’t fair, Johnny,” Sam Cragg protested. “My horoscope said that conditions were favorable for making a long journey...”

“And we made it — all the way across the country.”

“Last winter we went to Florida,” Sam retorted. “Because you wanted to play the horses. And what happened to us in Florida? It can’t be any worse here, unless...”

“Unless what?”

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