[ WP ] Time and time again , you failed . Today , you succeeded .

George belonged to a syndicate. Of the fifty or so men in the syndicate, George was the tallest and the most unlucky. Sheriffs caught George on all five of his first bank robberies. George never served time nor did he ever find himself with a price on his head. The syndicate paid off certain towns ’ bank owners to not press charges when syndicate members were caught. 
 
 George took five banks out of commission for the next year and produced nothing for the syndicate. Once a member robs a bank, the bank needs time to cool down. George found himself without enough to pay in his monthly dues to the syndicate. Also, the syndicate was growing impatient as it received zero from George in the form of percentage cuts from his jobs. 
 
 “ We can ’ t continue to support your failure, ” a small man wearing small glasses said to George from behind a desk covered in papers in a small dusty room in the back of a small dusty bar. 
 
 “ I understand, but I want to do just one more job- ” 
 
 “ George- ” the man sitting behind the desk looked at him over the top of his wiry glasses. 
 
 George became slightly frantic, “ It ’ s numbers, you know this. It ’ s the basis of the whole operation. Two in three robberies are successful, and the profits from the two are enough to cover the costs of the one. I ’ m bound to make it. ” 
 
 “ I ’ m well aware of how the numbers work, ” the little man said dully. “ There ’ s a great deal of unrest among the members. They want you out. I can ’ t take any risks, I ’ m just trying to keep things running smoothly. ” 
 
 “ One more, ” George insisted. 
 
 “ You ’ re free to do whatever you want, but the syndicate can ’ t help you out. ” 
 
 “ Please, ” 
 
 “ You said it yourself, it ’ s numbers. If you think you can do it, do it yourself. ” The man behind the desk grew impatient. 
 
 “ I suppose so. ” George stood up, looking down to the little man, “ Thank you. ” 
 
 “ Don ’ t thank me. I haven ’ t done you any favors. ” 
 
 George turned and stepped through the door not far behind the seat he previously sat in. The bar outside the office dinned with the small talk of ruffians belonging to the syndicate. He searched for some eye contact to find someone to have a beer with but found none. The members did not acknowledge his presence. George figured they were well aware of his situation, * ‘ unrest ’ * George thought to himself. 
 
 A new face walked in the entrance as George made his way to exit. 
 
 “ Hi, ” the young man addressed George, “ I ’ d like to talk with Vincent. He ’ s in back, right? ” 
 
 George could feel the innocence in the young man ’ s pale, smooth face. “ That would be me. ” 
 
 “ Hi, I arranged to speak with you. I ’ m John. ” The young man shot out his hand to shake and George shook it. 
 
 George could see the surprise in the young man ’ s eyes as they scanned each other. George hoped whatever description the young man had been given of Vincent wasn ’ t too thorough. “ You can call me Vin. Let ’ s step out for a bit. ” 
 
 The two made their way to another bar down the road. George thought hard while they made small talk on the way. John noticed Vincent ’ s distance and interpreted it as disinterest. When they arrived at the cleaner, less rowdy bar, they took a table in the back and both lit cigarettes and ordered beers. 
 
 George laid out the plan in great detail. The two ride in on one horse Monday morning. John enters alone and George sneaks in back and holds up the bank owner from the window. 
 
 “ Is that really necessary? Doesn ’ t the syndicate pay off the bank owner? ” John questioned 
 
 “ I don ’ t want him getting any ideas. I know what I ’ m doing, son. ” 
 
 From there, it ’ s basic procedure as George explained. In short, gun point the teller, throw the bag on the counter, and the teller follows as expected. 
 
 The two finished their beers and John went home for the night and George took off for Lenaway, the small town home to the bank the two planned to rob. The next morning, George spoke with the bank owner. 
 
 “ A triple payment? ” the wrinkly owner questioned. 
 
 “ Yes, the syndicate will pay you triple, ” George confirmed. 
 
 “ I have to shoot the fellow? ” 
 
 “ Yes, and hand the money out the back window to me, who will be patiently waiting. ” 
 
 “ Why do I have to go and shoot the guy? ” 
 
 “ He ’ s been causing unrest within the syndicate. ” 
 
 “ I see, ” the owner said and sat back in the chair behind his desk and contemplated the operation. 
 
 Monday morning came and George waited patiently outside the window to the owner ’ s office in the back of the bank. George heard two shots and was concerned about the second. Soon, the owner handed him the money out the back window and he was on his way. *Success* he thought to himself as he rode off. 

