Lightening flashed over head; torrents of rain fell drenching everyone on the streets. Rivers ran in the gutters sweeping away the debris of daily life. In the back room of the town bakery gathered three of the more influential men of the town. They sat around a poker table. But it was not poker they were playing at. The room is lit only by candlelight with which one can see the dim shapes of the instruments of the bakery. The three men appear to be engaged in some sort of business.

One of the men is the proprietor of this shop, the baker. His name was Guntry Hall. He sits back very casually running a large amount of money through his hands. He licks his thumb and begins to count the bills he is holding. His hair is coal black and greased. It shines in the weak light. His eyes are dark and piercing. In his teeth he holds a lit cigar which he puffs slowly. It is lost in large beard and one can only make the light of the tip as he draws in a breath. He is a broad chested, tall, mountain of a man. As he rocks back and forth, the chair creaks, barely supporting his weight.

The second man is hunched over the table. His arms are wrapped around an object that is obscured from view. He is older than the first man; his hair is scraggly and grey. He also has a beard; it is dirty and wild. He has a small form and scrawny limbs. His small eyes are sunken in his head as he glances nervously back and forth between the other two men. His name is Langard Fulton; he is the one who provides the town with light though his demeanor is very dark. He is the candlestick maker.

The third man is short but rotund. His tremendous girth pools over the side of the chair, though his legs barely touch the floor. He leans back with an irate expression on his small pinched face. His head is completely bald except for a small triangle goatee on his chin. His gigantic arms are crossed across his bloody apron. He is the butcher and his name is Roberto Vazzini.   

“What do you mean, counting it, Guntry? I said it’s all there! I ain’t tryin’ to cheat ye. We is partners, it wouldn’t do me no good to cheat ye. Why would I do that? You trust me, don’t you? You trust me, too, don’t you, Vazz, old pal?” Langard babbles nervously while shifting in his seat, but he keeps a firm latch on the object in his arms. The other two men just smile wryly back at him. Guntry continues to count and Roberto continues to glare. After a while, the money is neatly stacked on the table, and Hall leans forward.

“You’re 30 rubles short, you lying traitor. You know what happens when you’re short, don’t you? Now, give us that box.” Guntry growls across the table at Fulton. Vazzini just cracks his knuckles and continues to lean back. Langard clutches the box tighter.

“I’ll get you the rubles Guntry, you know I’m good for it, I need this, and you can’t have it, it’s mine. Just let me run home, I got the 30 sittin’ in my safe, I can get ‘em to you.” Fulton pushes his chair back slowly, stands and edges toward the door. Roberto stands up quickly and blocks his exit.

“You ain’t leavin here unless you give us that box. Now hand it over. You’ll get it back if you get us another 50 rubles, 10 to make up for trying to short us, 10 as ransom for your precious box, and the 30 you that you came up wanting. And you better get it to us by sunrise, or the last thing you will have to worry about is your stupid box.”

            Langard reluctantly hands over the box to Roberto and slinks out the door.  Roberto brings the box over to Guntry and resumes his position in the chair. Roberto closes his eyes as though he has decided to go to sleep. Guntry handles the box carefully pondering in his mind, ‘I wonder what could be in this box that is of so much importance. I could probably hold it for ransom for more than a mere 50 rubles. I had better find out what it is, to better judge its worth.’

He examines the lock and quickly pulls out the two picks he will need to open it. A few seconds jimmying is all that is needed to produce the necessary click to unchain the box. When he looks inside his eyes widen, he quickly closes the lid and checks to be sure that Roberto’s eyes are still closed, then he opens it slowly again as if he is afraid it will have disappeared. He doesn’t believe his eyes, no wonder Fulton had been so reluctant to part with it over the loss of a mere 50 rubles. Who would have suspected any still existed, let alone in the possession of a scraggly old candle maker in a small village in the middle of nowhere.

Hall shuts the lid and locks the box up again. “Roberto, you slacker, guard the box while I go take a piss. Don’t try and open it, we should be honorable and respect the property of our friend,” he says as he walks out the back door. 

As soon as Guntry is out the door, Roberto goes quickly to the box. He is a master of lock picking and takes only seconds to get the box open. When he does, he throws open the lid and for the first time we see expression on this stony man’s face. His jaw drops open and his eyes open wide as he stares in wonder at the contents of the box. He is amazed that Fulton would even consider letting this out of his sight, if it had been him, he would have tried a lot harder to keep a hold on the box.

There is a rattling at the door and Roberto quickly closes the box and resumes his normal position. Fulton walks in holding a bag which contains all that he has of worth left in the world, which is not much because he has sold most everything to get the box and to hold off these two thugs he calls business partners. Just as he walks in, Guntry returns from the back.

Immediately the room turns cold as they all realize that they all know what is in the box. Fulton begins to sweat profusely and spout nonsense. “Calm down guys, I’m not gonna cheat ya, we can share it, there is enough for all of us, come on, its all I got, you can’t take it from me, I sold everything to get it, I don’t got no where to live, this is the only thing I got, what you gonna do to me, here is all I got left, the deed to my store, all my possessions, its more than what you asked for, just don’t take the box…” he drops to his knees and begins to weep.

Guntry has begun yelling, “Why did you try and cheat us, you rotten scoundrel, you should die for this, what made you think we wouldn’t find out, you think that the deed to a lousy shop is worth the return of this, this is priceless, and now its mine all mine, you ain’t getting this back for nothing, no I ain’t gonna share, are you mad, you bastard…” he has now gone over to Fulton and is hitting him while Fulton rolls on the floor and weeps.

Meanwhile Roberto has stood up unnoticed and walked toward the box. He picked it up; stepping over the writhing bodies on the floor he walks calmly towards the door. It is only when he opens the door that the others notice what has happened. They forget their anger with each other and turn on Roberto. He runs out the door and down the back allies. He heads to the river in hopes of finding some craft which will take him out of reach of his pursuers. When he reaches the bank all he finds is an old wash basin that someone has left here for when the do their washing. With Guntry and Fulton hot on his trail he has little choice.

He places the box in the bath, makes sure it is sealed, and picks the tub up with his massive arms. He pushes it out into the water and grabs an old washboard to use as a paddle. Just as he climbs in the other two reach the bank. They splash out toward the tub and grab on. Roberto tries to beat them off with the washboard but is too afraid of upsetting the vessel to be able to do much. Mean while the craft has been sucked out into the current and is being dragged down the river too the waterfall. Guntry and Fulton have managed to coordinate their efforts and are now in the tub with Roberto and the box. They still have not realized that they are rushing uncontrollable to their end; they are too busy fighting over the contents of the box.

Rub-a-dub-dub
Three men in a tub;
And who do you think they be?
The butcher, the baker,
The candlestick maker;
Turn ‘em out, knaves all three!