The acreage once used for grazing and corrals had been sold off piece by piece until the original homestead stood alone in the center of a patch of dry land, surrounded by developments of new Colonials and Tudors with green lawns and blacktopped driveways. The cab made a right turn under the wooden arch that spanned the dirt road leading to the casino and restaurant, and passed rows of parked cars to let me off at the front door. I handed the driver the fare and looked at my watch. “Give me an hour,” I said, “and I’ll meet you right here. If I’m a little late, please wait for me.” “I’ll be right here,” the driver said. “Maybe get a Coke at the bar and play a little video poker while I’m waiting.” I climbed the steps to the porch and pulled open the front door, which was scuffed and scarred from years of service. A naturally distressed finish, I thought, one that modem decorators tried hard to duplicate. The front of the building was given over to a small casino, stocked solely with gambling machines that accepted nickels, dimes, and quarters.
