SamAdams arrives at home after spending the lunch hour in a bar to find a letter slipped under his door. The letter has no return address and no stamp. Sam carefully opens it, in case there's poison inside. He takes out a letter, written on a type-writer. It reads:

Sir:

I am in need of the services of someone in your 

line of work. If it is convenient, please meet me 

tonight at the bar near the main Post Office. I will

be in the right-hand corner booth with a hat

with a red band.

~~~

That night, Sam arrives at the bar. He keeps a hand on his handgun in case this is a set-up. He sees the man and goes over to the table. The man is well-dressed, but doesn't look like a Mobster.

"Hello," Sam says. "I received your correspondence." "Thank you for coming." says the man. "Here's the deal. I own a taxi company here in Vegas. I used to be quite wealthy. But a couple years ago, a new guy from New York set up his own company here, and I've been getting steadily poorer. Now, I may have to sell my company. But I have a solution. Do you think you could, let us say, pay a visit to my rival for me and take care of him?" Sam immediately agrees. This should be rather easy, especially as there will be no danger of inciting a war. "Great." the man says with a relieved smile. "I will, of course, compensate you."

"The man's name is Redford. You can find his address in the phone books. He has a big house, and a single guard that you'll need to get past."

"Don't worry, leave him to me," Sam says.

The next day, Sam shows up at the big house owned by Mr. Donald Redford, owner of Vegas Cabs Inc. Sneaking up to the tall fence surrounding the backyard, Sam sees a single light on in the house. Reaching into the case slung across himself, Sam grasps his binoculars and raises them to his eyes. He peers into the twin windows that are lit. He sees a bookcase-lined room with a desk in the middle. A well-dressed man is sitting behind the desk, his face turned toward the windows. "He's the one," Sam thinks.

Sam mounts the fence and climbs over. As he sneaks toward the side of the house, a back door opens and a large, muscular man runs out. "Alright, where are you?" he shouts. "I saw you climb that fence. Show yourself!" Sam fades back into the bushes along the side yard. As the man comes in his direction, Sam trips over a branch. With a shout, the man runs up to Sam. "Ha! Now I got you! Get the hell out of here and sleep somewhere else!" growls the man, mistaking Sam for a hobo.

Sam steps out into the moonlight, and the man gasps. A tall, well-dressed young mobster is NOT what he had expected to see. "Well, you shoulda stayed away from me, sucker," Sam says with a smirk. The man leaps for Sam, narrowly missing Sam's head with his huge fists. Sam leaps behind the man, giving him a sharp kick in the back. The man turns, and then freezes as he sees the glint of a knife. Sam slowly advances, saying, "Nothing personal, Sir. Just business." 

Sam rolls the hulking, lifeless body into the bushes, blood still oozing from its' stomach. With the guard dispatched, Sam sprints to the backyard. He is dismayed to see the study windows dark, drapes drawn. This was a small but manageable complication. Sam walks across the yard, looking for another lighted window. Suddenly, the backdoor opens, and Mr. Redford walks out. He begins to shout, "Where did you get to, Mortis?" before seeing Sam dive into a bush. Sam pulls out his revolver and fires, but just a moment late. The man slams the door closed. 

Sam runs to the side of the house, and raises his revolver again, this time aiming for the telephone wire going into the building. BANG! The wire sparks for a moment before snapping. "At least he can't call the cops," Sam growls to himself. With that, Sam runs to the backdoor and, after listening for a minute or two, kicks it in. He hears an angry, 'What the hell is wrong with this phone?!" come from the front of the house before a yell of fright. Sam hears feet pounding up the stairs.

Sam sees the kitchen and quickly finds the old servant's stairs. He runs up them, and flings open the door. He sees a bedroom. A door slams just outside, in the hallway. Sam jumps out and barges into another room. He sees the man at the window, lowering a fire escape ladder. The man turns just in time to see the revolver fire. Seconds later, the man is lying dead on the ground, two stories below the window, his face's features all but destroyed by the powerful .44 bullet.

The next evening, Sam walks into the bar once again. He sees the man sitting at the same table, a smile on his face and a newspaper with the headline, WEALTHY BUSINESSMAN MURDERED IN HIS HOME; NO SUSPECTS. "Thank you," the man says to Sam. "You've saved my business." Sam smiles as the man hands him a fat envelope.