It was midnight. He sat there nervously, glaring at the thugs opposite him.  Leckman was irresponsible and reckless. Years of sailing and rundown ports had taught him to be clever. This was no different; Hobart was one of the worst places he’d visited.

Sweat ran down Leckman’s cheeks as he pulled the trick card from his pocket. He showed the thugs the card, “impossible” one of them whispered. Leckman held out his hand with a smug look on his face. The shorter thug placed a bag of silver coins in his palm. The larger man leaned closer to him. His breath smelt of musty beer. “Leave” he muttered.

Leckman stood and ran. He could hear the raspy voices of the two thugs getting into a fight as he reached the doorway. “I’m sure of it!” cried one of them. Leckman didn’t stay to listen. He flung himself outside and took a deep breath.

The air felt cool and moist. Leckman made his way to the docks. He climbed into the nearest boat just as the thugs he had ripped off came charging at him, they looked as mad as bulls!

“Get him” they screeched. Leckman fumbled with the ropes that held the boat in place. He untied the last knot and he floated away from the thugs. Their voices became fainter and fainter as he floated away into the night. What now? He thought.

Leckman untied the spring on the bag of silver coins. The money glinted in the moonlight and he smiled mysteriously.

After staring at his prize for a few minutes, Leckman made up his mind. His future fell into place. He would sail back home to England to find the house he had built three years ago, he would use the money to get a job. He turned to face the thugs that were now a speck in the distance. Leckman sighed and turned back to the wheel. Goodbye, he thought as he drifted away.