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Playing To Win Playing The Game IIChapter 22 The Fifty Cent Bet
"Okay, I'll bite," I replied. "What can you do for me, Mr. Cropper?" The gruff voice on the other end of the telephone line said, "Do you know a young man by the name of Jesse Wilhoit, son?" "Yes, sir, I do. Is he okay?" I didn't think I could take any more bad news than I'd gotten over the past year or so. "Oh, yeah, Jesse's just fine," said Cropper. "In fact, he's the one suggested I give you a holler." "Um, okay," I said. I was still confused. "And how do you know...