It was the first Saturday of April 1955, in Bismarck, North Dakota. Long-time readers of our column may recall that in Bismarck, the first Saturday of April was the day residents raked up their yards in preparation for spring. It was something that approached a religious requirement. Yards must be raked on that day, and whomever raked up the biggest piles of dead thatch and other debris was considered the most meritorious.

On the other hand, failure to rake your yard, on-time and properly, was simply unthinkable to nearly all Bismarckers, and anyone who didn't--- well, they became instant social pariahs, incurring the disdain, scorn, and often wrath of not just their neighbors but of anyone who even walked or drove by their properties.

Raking the yard yourself was of course the expected method, but there were allowances made for the sick or elderly. Sal Westerman, whom we know as the unofficial leader of the Coffee and Cake Checker Club, was in his seventies and just barely qualified for the elderly exception. Sal generally hired an enterprising young lad to do the raking for him. This was acceptable, but didn't garner any sort of status no matter how many bags of debris the young fellow raked up.

The Club normally met at 1 PM at the Beacon Cafe; they would meet on Saturdays from just after Labor Day to just before Memorial Day. On Raking Day, a smaller than usual turnout was expected, with a couple of latecomers, as not everyone completed their raking by one o'clock, and it simply had to be done before they could think of checkers.

So it was that just after one, Sal was in the big booth at the back of the Cafe with regulars Larry, Wayne, Louie the Flash, and Delmer. Dan had a big yard and might not make it; Mike would likely be there in a half hour or so. Young Blaine hired out his services so he wouldn't be there today as he had several yards to rake.

They were all, of course, drinking coffee and talking about the day's raking. But then in came a stranger. He was about 40 years old (much younger than all the Club members except for Young Blaine).

The newcomer walked back to the big booth and asked in a somewhat brash manner, "This the checker club?"

Sal replied, "Indeed it is. And to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?"

"My name is Dexter," the newcomer said, "Dexter Werner. I'm new to town but I'm a fan of checkers and some folks told me about there being a small-town club."

"Well, have a seat, and welcome, Dexter," Sal said, "we're always happy to have new members." Sal did introductions and then Dan asked, "So where are you from, Dexter?"

"New York City," he said. "I got a job here as a technician with the phone company. My wife and I had lived all our lives in the city and we were tired of the rat race. So I got this job, we bought a house, and we've been here now for a few months. We finally got settled and it seemed like a good time to look up your club."

"Sounds great," said Wayne, and then asked the question of the day. "So how did your raking go today?"

"My what?" Dexter said. "Did you say raking? What do you mean?"

"Well, Dexter, it's well known that you rake up your yard on the first Saturday of April, you know, to get it ready for spring."

"You're kidding," Dexter said with a sort of half smile. "Why would anyone do that?"

"Because that's what you do," Wayne answered. "You want a nice yard, don't you?"

"Never thought about it. But it really doesn't sound very important. Yard, shmard, who cares?"

"Uh, Dexter, your neighbors will care," said Delmer. "They'll care a lot if they have nice yards and yours ... well, frankly ... if yours spoils the neighborhood."

"Never heard anything so silly as that!" Dexter said. "Why, back in the City ... "

"This isn't the City," Delmer went on. "You said you wanted out of the rat race, well, you got that, but things are done a certain way here."

"Oh, give me a break, willya," Dexter said. "Can we just play some checkers and not fuss about raking the yard, for heaven's sake?"

At this Sal interjected, "Yes, Dexter, we'll do some checkers. But a word of advice from a long time resident such as myself ... it will go much better for you if you try to fit in."

"I don't give a hoot about fitting in," Dexter said. "Now, please, checkers."

Dexter was getting glares from all of the boys. He was even getting a dark look from Deana, the Cafe's proprietess.

"All right then," Sal said with a sigh, "here's today's problem. Nothing to do with leaves but a nice little situation. Deana, what's on offer today?"

The tradition was for the boys to pay for treats if they couldn't solve the problem, and for Sal to pay if they could.

"Old fashioned apple pie," Deana said, "and if you're nice to me, I'll put a dollop of whipped cream on top."

The boys expressed their appreciation although Dexter didn't seem to join in.

Sal laid out the following position.

"Half an hour," Sal said, "starting now."

---

We don't know if you're from New York City, Bismarck, points between, or anywhere else. It doesn't matter; you can try Sal's problem and win a piece of apple pie (which unfortunately you'll have to provide on your own). See how you do and then click on Read More for the solution and the rest of our little story.

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The National Checker League season continued on, and it wasn't quite like other seasons. The newspapers remarked on it:

"What's going on this year in the NCL? There have been some strange and unexplained losses. Normally good players are making mistakes that even lesser players wouldn't make. Lower ranked teams are pulling upsets over higher ranked teams. We're wondering; is there something being released into the air at Checkerdromes around the country? Is there some sort of ailment that is striking only professional checker players? Checker fans want to know."

It was puzzling as well to Marvin J. Mavin, the superstar Captain of the highly rated Detroit Doublejumpers. He continued to read:

"We've contacted NCL Comissioner Axel Homeboy, and his comments were suprisingly laconic. 'What makes checkers exciting,' he said, 'is that anything can and does happen.' We didn't find that to be much in the way of an explanation but Mr. Homeboy had nothing further to say."

"Yeah," Marvin muttered, "stuff happens that ain't supposed to happen." He was in his study in his wife's enormous condo in suburban Detroit; she (Priscilla) was at work downtown. The Doublejumpers had an off-day during a home stand and Coach Baba Dudut had given the team the day off with no practices called. He turned back to the newspaper:

"Checker Weekly spoke with a number of Coaches, although a few would not even answer our questions. Those that did said things like, "I don't get it" or "It's rather disconcerting" or "What are you getting at?" as if they were being accused of something. In short, we weren't able to gain any insights. Checker Weekly will inform its readers further when additional information becomes available."

The newspaper story went on to describe various situations which had occurred over the board, such as this one, in a game between Roddy Ruddy of the Portland Paisleys and Suzie Sheeshee of the Denver Dennys:

Ruddy had played 16-12 here and blew away the win. Then after 1-5 he blundered again with 22-18 and eventually lost. The newspaper berated him for amateur play and tried to interview Ruddy but his coach wouldn't allow Ruddy to speak to the press.

Of course some funny things had happened right within the Doublejumper organzation (see our previous episode), and even though Marvin was Captain, Coach refused to discuss it with him, reminding Marvin that he wasn't in charge of the team and instructing him to just worry about his own quality of play.

Marvin briefly wondered if he should go over Coach's head and talk to the Doublejumper team owner, Nelson Chester Abernathy the 3rd. But that could go wrong and get Marvin fired, and after talking it over with Priscilla he decided "it is nought good a slepying hound to wake" a phrase Priscilla liked to quote from Chaucer.

But just then Marvin's cell phone rang.

"Hullo?" Marvin said. "Oh, wait, I gotta press the button first, like, okay ... there ... yeah, hullo?"

"Mr. Mavin?" a voice on the other end asked.

"Uh, yup, but like hey, nobody don't hardly call me 'Mr. Mavin' and them that do, they ain't got this phone number ... "

"Well, I have your number. I'm an investigative reporter and I'm very good at finding things out. My name is Carol Catchem from the New York Herald Star, and I'm working with sportswriter Willie Bill Williamson on a story about the NCL."

"Uh, yeah, so ... like ... ain't you supposed to call our whatchacallit --- media department or something? 'Cause we gotta get permission and stuff to talk with the press ... "

"Oh, this won't amount to anything much. You don't need permission, I cleared it with my people. So it's just a question or two, starting with, do you follow the checker news?"

"'Course I do, I play pro checkers. Hey I thought you said you knew how to find stuff out. Ain't it like obvious?"

"Just doing fact checking," Carol replied. "So for instance have you seen the latest in Checker Weekly? The article asking what's going on this year in the NCL?"

"Yeah, I seen it," Marvin said. 'I just got done reading it in fact. How'd you know that?"

There was a chuckle on Carol's end. "Like I said ... but what I want to know is what you think about the article."

"They wrote it real good," Marvin said.

Now there was a groan on Carol's end. "Sure, sure Marvin, but what about the content?"

"Well, they asked lots a questions and they didn't answer none of 'em because nobody around the league wouldn't tell them nothing."

"So, Marvin, how would you answer their questions? What is going on around the league?"

"Well, now, I ain't sure I oughta ... "

"Oh come on, just a word or two. It won't hurt anything and it's just for information."

"Uh ... um ... okay. It's like, there's all this weird stuff with players making dumb moves and losing games and players who ain't all that good winning games and stuff that shouldn't be happening. I don't get it either but it ain't right. We even had a game or two on our team ... but I better keep quiet about that."

"So why do think this is happening? You say it's even on your own team. What does your Coach think? What do you think?"

"Coach don't say nothing to me cause he says it ain't my business. I dunno. It's just all weird and I don't know nothing more."

Was that a chuckle? Marvin could almost picture Carol smiling. "Thank you Marvin," she said, "you've been very helpful."

The connection ended. Carol must have hung up. Marvin sat a moment, staring at his phone before setting it down and then turning to the latest issue of All Checkers Digest.

Marvin arrived at the Detroit Checkerdrome a few minutes ahead of 1 PM practice the next day; the Doublejumpers would be facing the Los Angeles Leapers in the evening.

"Coach wants to see you in his office right away," one of the attendants said.

Marvin went down the hall and out in the office area. He knocked on the door marked Head Coach.

"Enter," came the voice of Coach Baba Dudut. Marvin opened the door and walked in.

"Close the door and remain standing," Coach ordered gruffly.

"What ... "

"And keep silent. Here, pick this up." It was a copy of the morning edition of the New York Herald-Times. "Read the lead story."

Marvin reached down to Coach's desk and picked up the newspaper. To his surprise and dismay he saw a big headline:

Checker Star Can't Explain NCL Happenings

The byline was "Carol Catchem" and the story began:

"Your reporter spoke with Marvin J. Mavin, noted checker luminary and Captain of the Detroit Doublejumpers. We asked him about the strange happenings around the NCL. Mr. Mavin said he had noticed these things too and that there had even been odd events taking place on his own team. He had tried to speak to his coach about it but was turned away and threatened with disciplinary action ... "

The story went on for a few more paragraphs.

Coach stood up and leaned his fists on his desk. "First, what were you doing talking to this famous muckraker without permission?"

Marvin, now completely taken aback, replied in a stammer, "Uh, she like told me she cleared it with her people and stuff."

"She may have cleared it with her people but she sure didn't clear it with ours!" Coach shouted. "That's number one! Number two is where do you think you get the right to talk about what goes on with our team?"

"Well, gee, I just ... "

"You just what? What you just did was start a big scandal with us in the middle of it! Mr. Abernathy is very upset and chewed me out big time. I ought to kick you right off the team and out of professional checkers, but then I'd have to mess with the union and do a lot of paperwork. So I won't. But you're benched for this series! Maxie Minima will go on 5th board and everyone else will move up a slot. You'll be on the bench, and if anything like this ever happens again, union or no union, you'll never play checkers again! I'll break all your fingers and then kick you out of the league! Do you understand me!"

Marvin could barely speak. "Yeah, I mean, yes, Coach, I get it."

"You better get it! Now go on home, I don't even want to see you in the Checkerdrome, or anywhere, until after this series is over!"

Marvin figured he had better do as he was told. He drove on home. He'd discuss the situation with Priscilla when she got home from work. Maybe she would have some insights.

But Marvin really wondered. Maxie Minima wouldn't have been the top choice to fill in while Marvin was benched. Once again he didn't know what Coach was thinking.

# # #

The New York Herald-Times Overseas Edition was printed in Berlin and didn't arrive in Sofia until a bit later in the evening in the Sofia time zone. She always picked up a copy at the local newsstand as soon as it was available.

But this evening she was not pleased. The lead story would create problems for her. It could even derail the plan if things were left to go on their own. And although more money was starting to come in, that flow could easily be interrupted if things went awry. Action would have to be taken, and it would have to be swift and sure.

She would need to meet with her Bulgarian "associates" and get them to act through their network in the United States.

She angrily tossed the newspaper into a trash bin. It was time to go to their usual meeting place. The boys would be there, drinking their vodka, as they did just about every night. Things would be arranged. A price would be paid. She would not allow her plans to be thwarted or even delayed.

Nothing would stop her.

To be continued.

---

Ruddy should have won and even with his first blunder should have drawn. Can you find the win that Ruddy missed? Click on Read More when you're ready to check your solution.

[Read More]

"I wouldn't mind being a millionaire," said Louie the Flash, "and I'm sure my girlfriend wouldn't mind if I was either."

"Sure," said Mike, "if you were a millionaire you might keep a girlfriend longer than a month!"

"Hey," Louie replied, "I've been with Hortense now for ... uh, well ... I guess it's only three weeks but it's looking really good."

"I watched that new TV show, too," Dan said, "about that guy that gives a million dollars to someone and then we see how everything goes wrong. Like the one the other night about that school teacher ..."

"Too much money all at once can be a problem; people don't handle it well," said Wayne, "but I wouldn't mind trying it myself. Too bad that's just a TV show."

The Coffee and Cake Checker Club had just begun their regular Saturday afternoon meeting at the Beacon Cafe. A number of the "boys" were on hand (all but one of them 50 years old at a minimum). The club met from just after Labor Day until just before Memorial Day to solve checker problems, talk checkers, and play skittles games. However today the talk had drifted off to the topic of that new TV show "The Millionaire" which had just come on the air in the last couple of weeks.

But Sal Westerman, the club's unoffical leader, spoke up and said, "This is all very interesting, boys, but I've got a checker problem that's at lot more interesting. How about you take it on now?"

The tradition was that if the boys could solve the weekly problem, Sal would buy everyone the fabulous baked treats that Deana, the Beacon's proprietess, had on offer. If they couldn't solve it the boys would buy for Sal and his wife.

"I've got fresh fudge brownies," Deana called out from behind her counter, and then added with a laugh, "baked from my million dollar recipe!"

The boys laughed too, and Sal set up the following position on one of the boards in the big booth at the back of the cafe.

"Now," Sal said, "you don't get a million minutes to solve it. But seeing as how this problem is from my friend Ed in Pennsylvania, I'll give you a full hour. He calls it 'Land's End'."

Ed was one of Sal's checker pen pals and was known for his clever, if often difficult, problem compositions.

Deana refilled everyone's coffee mugs and the boys dug into the problem.

---

We can't offer you a million dollars, and neither can we offer you fudge brownies. But do try to solve the problem, and then click on Read More to see the solution.

[Read More]

The Detroit Doublejumpers were in Tampa, Florida, for a match with the Tampa Tinsleys, a very strong team in the American Conference Eastern Division of the National Checker League. Led by superstar captain Marvin J. Mavin, the Doublejumpers were favored to win, but the odds line was close at 5-4 in favor of the Doublejumpers.

As regular readers know, National Checker League matches are five boards to a side, with the highest rated player on the first board and so on down to the fifth board. Of course, in professional checkers at the Major League level, a fifth board starter was ranked at least as a master and was a very skilled checkerist.

In our previous episode, Marvin had remarked on the unexpected loss of a strong player to a lower ranked player in a match played in Dallas. He had since noted a couple of other similar anomalies, but didn't pursue the matter any further.

But now, with the Doublejumpers on a lengthy road trip, it was time to focus on the match with Tampa. The Doublejumpers would play a three match series here, then move on to Miami for another three matches prior to going to Dallas, and then on to St. Louis before finally returning to Detroit. It would be two weeks before Marvin would get to see his wife, Priscilla, back in the suburbs of the city.

Pre-game practice went along as usual and Coach Baba Dudut then prepared the starting lineup. He announced it to the team.

"Marvin, first board. I better see a good showing with no attitude."

"Yes, coach," Marvin said meekly. "You got it."

Coach glared a little and continued. "Panko Ryder, second board. Jimmy Jack Johnson, third board. Suzie Brankovich, fourth board."

Coach then hesitated a moment before continuing. "And Steve Moscovitch, fifth board."

The team murmured a little. The usual fifth board player this season was Sarah Hotchkiss, and she had played well so far, winning most of her games. Steve Moscovitch was the lowest rated player on the Doublejumper team and had only seen action as a very occasional substitute. He had not played all that well and rumor was he might soon be sent down to the Doublejumpers AAA farm team.

"You people have a problem?" demanded Coach upon hearing the muttering. "I make the decisions around here and I make them in the best interests of the team. You don't like it, go play for some other team."

The muttering died down but the look on the faces of the players told a different story.

It was soon time for the match to begin. The Tampa Checkerdrome was sold out and 50,000 avid checker fans were awaiting what would likely be a close contest. While most of the fans were from the local area and would cheer for the Tinsleys, there was a sizeable group who had come down from Detroit to see their team and take a bit of a vacation near the waters of Tampa Bay.

The starting lineups were announced over the stadium's PA system. When Detroit's fifth board was announced, there was more audible muttering, this time from the Detroit audience. Sarah Hotchkiss was a favorite of the fans and won hearts everywhere she went with her fine play, pleasant personality, and decided strength of character. Steve Moscovitch, on the other hand, was viewed as someone on his way out.

After the National Anthem, the players took their places at their checkerboards and the referee blew his whistle. His cry of "Play Checkers!" resounded throughout the stadium and the match began.

Indeed, it was close. The Doublejumpers drew on first and second board, with both Marvin and Panko unable to get a win against the strong Tampa players. The Doublejumpers lost on the third board and won on the fourth in games that were hard fought and close.

It was now all down to fifth board. Steve had been playing very slowly. By the rules, he needed a win to carry the day for the Doublejumpers. A draw, on the other hand, would leave the score tied at 5-5 but tiebreak rules gave precedence to wins on the higher boards, so the Tinsleys would win the match if Steve only drew.

The fifth board for the Tinsleys, Agatha Agarawal, was a pretty good player. But she tended to play a little too fast. The result was a position in which Steve was to play, and he had a possible win. However he only had a minute left on his clock while Agatha had twelve minutes.

Steve's clock was running and he seemed ready to make his move. He reached out, and then suddenly drew his hand back. He stood up from the board, stretched his arms over his head, moved his legs up and down, and then did a pirouette. The big crowd in the stands again was muttering. What was Steve up to? His clock was now down to ten seconds. Steve grabbed the top of his chair as if to begin to sit down, but he knocked it over, and, rather than just make his move, he slowly picked it up.

"Time!" Agatha called out, pointing to the clock. Indeed, Steve had run out of time and thereby lost the game. The Tinsleys had won by a score of 6-4.

Coach Baba Dudut ran out onto the field and started yelling at Steve. But Marvin noticed that Steve didn't have the scared look that most players have when yelled at by Coach. Neither did he have a defiant look. In fact, Coach's angry look wasn't the same as the one Marvin was used to.

A disappointed team walked off the field that evening. The hometown fans were happy, of course. But the Detroit contingent was left to wonder just what happened.

The next day it was announced that Steve Moscovitch, rather than get sent down to a farm club, had quit the Doublejumpers and made his exit from professional checkers. It was something quite unusual. Players often would be moved back and forth between the major and minor leagues, but few of them abandoned their careers altogether.

Sarah Hotchkiss resumed her usual place on fifth board and the Doublejumper road trip continued. The Doublejumpers split the next two matches with the Tinsleys, but that left Tampa with a 2-1 edge in the three match series, and it was enough to put them into first place in the American League East division of the National Checker League.

It was just a small one bedroom apartment in an old run down building in the Lyulin area of Sofia, but she knew she'd be moving to better quarters before too long. Things were starting to work out and the money, now mostly a trickle, would eventually turn into a flood.

It had taken her a while to settle in Sofia, after some time in other Eastern European cities like Warsaw, Prague, and a couple of others. It had taken her even longer to learn enough Bulgarian to start to make the contacts she needed. But she was good at that kind of thing.

Eventually she found a group with which she could work. The Bulgarian underworld wasn't trusting of foreigners, but she was very convincing and could be very charming or very tough as the occasion demanded. Building out her network took time, but she had enough side hustles to keep her going until things were at a point where she had enough control to start making some moves.

Oh, would they ever be surprised back home. But they wouldn't suspect anything until it was too late, and they would never suspect her involvement.

She went into the apartment's tiny kitchen to make herself some tea. A few roaches scuttled along the kitchen floor and the stove just consisted of an ancient hot plate. Never mind, better days were coming. For her, at least. Not for her victims back home.

She almost laughed aloud. Revenge would be sweet, and the money wouldn't hurt anything either.

It had been quite a long road trip, and except for that one unexpected loss in Tampa, the Doublejumpers had done very well. Marvin himself had played good checkers and was satisified with his performance. Of course Coach Baba Dudut wasn't one to give out much praise, especially to Marvin.

And Marvin still felt somewhat uneasy. He couldn't especially put his finger on just why, but it was a really odd kind of feeling. Something was a bit off with Coach, and there were just other nagging little things.

When he finally returned home, at a late evening hour, his wife, Priscilla, noticed his mood.

"What you need is a nice glass of wine, dear, to help you relax. I'm sure it's all just stress from the long road trip."

"Yeah, honey, maybe I'll grab a can of beer," Marvin replied, "and then hit the hay."

Priscilla scowled, but only a little, as she hadn't seen Marvin for a couple of weeks. Ordinarily she didn't like to see Marvin drinking beer out of a can; she said it was uncouth and low-class.

"Whatever you like," she said.

Marvin had his beer and slept uneasily, dreaming of wrong moves and game clocks that ran out.

To be continued.

---

What move should Steve have played to secure the win, had he not done strange antics? His antics are not the only strange thing going on, it seems. We hope nothing particularly strange is going on where you are and you'll have a chance to solve the position. Give it a try and then click on Read More to see the solution.

[Read More]

It was Saturday, February 12, 1955, and Valentine's Day was just two days away.

But in Bismarck, North Dakota, on Saturday afternoons between Labor Day and Memorial Day, the Coffee and Cake Checker Club met at the Beacon Cafe in the Provident Life Building. Led informally by elderly Sal Westerman, the club solved problems, talked and played checkers, and enjoyed fabulous baked treats made by the proprietess, Deana Nagel.

All of the "boys" in the club, save one, were over 50 years of age. Most had been married for many years, except for Young Blaine, a relative newlywed, and Louie the Flash, who despite being about 55 years old went from girlfriend to girlfriend over and over again.

The weather was overcast with the temperature in the 40s, which was rather mild for a Bismarck winter, and there was a goodly sized gathering at the Cafe. In addition to Sal, there was Dan, Wayne, Louie, Young Blaine, Delmer, Larry, Ron, Spooler, and even Old Frank, who didn't attend all that often.

Over their first cup of coffee the boys talked about Valentine's Day. For once, Sal had laid in a gift for his wife Sylvia in advance of the holiday. Most of the boys had done the same, and while the group liked to tease Young Blaine, he too was on top of things.

Surprisingly, it was Old Frank who still hadn't shopped or made plans. Now Frank, who was indeed the eldest, being older than Sal by a few years, had been married for something like 60 years.

"I've run out of ideas," he said simply. "So many Valentine's Days, so many gifts, I just can't think of anything new. And with tomorrow being Sunday, I don't really have much time. But I'm sure Mabelle will understand."

"You think so?" asked Wayne. "Tell me, have you ever missed a Valentine's Day?"

"Well, I did once or twice, I suppose ... "

"And how did that work out for you?" Wayne continued.

Old Frank hesitated and then stammered, "Uh, um, uh ... "

"Not so well?" Dan chimed in.

"Okay, all right, the one time Mabelle was kind of upset. And the second time she was really angry and made me cook my own meals for a week."

"So you suppose the third time's the charm?" Delmer asked. "Or will it be strike three, you're out? Do you really want to risk it?"

"Um, I guess not ... " Old Frank said.

Sal then said, "Okay then, here's what we'll do. I have a nice little problem for all of you today. Let's get into it, and when we're done, Old Frank will still have a couple of hours before A.W. Lucas closes. I have a feeling that any gift will be far better than no gift, even if it's something you've given many times before."

"She does like bath oil," Old Frank mused, "although I've given her that a good dozen or more times."

"Then get some bath oil," Sal said. "It won't take long and you can still come back in time for some of Deana's treats."

"Valentine heart cookies today," Deana called out from behind her counter. "Baked fresh today!"

Sal then laid out the problem shown below on a couple of the checkerboards in the big booth occupied by the boys at the back of the Cafe. The tradition was for Sal to buy the treats if the boys could solve the problem, and for the boys to buy for Sal and his wife Sylvia if they couldn't solve it.

"You have until 2 PM," Sal said, "as we want Old Frank to have some time to do his shopping."

The boys, including Old Frank, had for the moment set aside thoughts of Valentine's Day and were busily engaged with the checker problem.

---

This column will appear on Valentine's Day, 2026, and we don't know if you've "taken care of business" so to speak, should that apply to your personal situation. But no matter what, you can still solve the problem and then click on Read More to see the solution and the rest of our story.

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It was a sunny Sunday morning in the fall and in the very swank Detroit suburb where Priscilla Snelson had her very swank condo, she and her husband, Marvin J. Mavin, were at breakfast.

As regular readers know, Priscilla was the CEO of the large multinational conglomerate Rust Belt Holdings. Marvin, her somewhat unlikely husband, was the Captain of the Detroit Doublejumpers in the National Checker League. He was nothing short of a superstar but even his superstar salary didn't come close to Priscilla's CEO compensation.

Indeed, Priscilla liked the finer things, such as her 5,000 square foot condo, her fleet of cars including a Rolls-Royce limo, a Jaguar and many others right on down to her "everyday" Lexis. Marvin, on the other hand, had simpler tastes. Prior to marriage, he drove a dilapidated old Volkswagen Beetle and lived in a small one-bedroom apartment in a quite undesirable part of Detroit. Of course, once they married, Priscilla insisted on quite a few changes to Marvin's lifestyle.

But right now, at about nine in the morning, the couple was breakfasting on poached eggs with caviar, smoked salmon, avocado toast, freshly squeezed orange juice, and 100% Kona coffee, all prepared by one of Priscilla's private chefs (she had just recently added a second chef for Sundays, which was the day off of her regular chef).

Priscilla was glancing through a business book, The Gentle Art of Hostile Takeovers, while Marvin was reading the Sunday paper, The Detroit Free Herald. With both spouses immersed in their reading, breakfast was quiet. Marvin had a match in the evening but didn't have to report to the clubhouse for warmups until two o'clock, and Priscilla was enjoying a rare half day off from her busy job.

But suddenly, Marvin spoke up. "That can't be!" he said loudly, looking up from his newspaper.

Priscilla, a bit annoyed by the loud interruption--- she was just reading a fascinating chapter that talked about what percentage of the staff to fire after a hostile takeover--- also looked up. "What can't be, dear? What is so impossible that you felt the need to remark rather loudly about it?"

"Well, just look!" he said, turning his newspaper toward Priscilla and indicating an article in the checker section.

Priscilla took a cursory glance. "So?" she said, "what is it that stands out?"

Marvin shook the newspaper and pointed. "Well, right here!" he said. "See, the Dallas Dundees are a good team and they kind of stand out on the lower boards." (In the National Checker League, matches were played five boards to a side; the strongest player played first board and so on down to fifth board.) "Well, they played the Minnesota Moves, who are stronger on the top boards and weaker on the bottom. So, the top four boards split 2-2. But on the 5th board, where Dallas played Herb Woodman, well ... I can't believe it!"

"Can you get to the point, dear?" said Priscilla.

"Yeah, yeah, well see Minnesota played Sammy Sammerson on 5th, and he won! Woodman is so much stronger than Sammerson that it's ... well ... it can't be!"

"But it was, wasn't it? Even good players lose games. Now, if you'll let me get back to my book ... "

"Okay, right, sorry, but I gotta know more about this. It just don't make no sense."

"Yes, dear, if 'it don't make no sense' you can surely look into it if you wish." At that, Priscilla turned back to her book and didn't say any more.

Breakfast was leisurely and it wasn't until nearly 11 o'clock that the couple got up from the table. Priscilla decided to take a short rest before heading off to the office while Marvin opted for an hour or so of The Checker Television Network. But he got restless and decided to go to the clubhouse about half an hour ahead of practice.

He changed into his regular clothes, said good-bye to Priscilla, and then drove the "everyday" Lexus to the clubhouse. (Priscilla wouldn't let him drive any of the other cars, or at least not very often.)

Traffic on the Interstate wasn't bad and Marvin actually arrived at the clubhouse 45 minutes before practice was scheduled. He gave a brief thought to stopping for a quick beer but quickly dropped the idea; if Coach Baba Dudut were to find out, Marvin would (quite rightly) be suspended for a while.

Marvin quickly changed into his team uniform, so as to be ready for practice, but then logged on to one of the team's NCL computer terminals. A lot of information was available to the players and coaches, including records of all the games in all the league matches.

"I just gotta see this," he said, and with a quick search pulled up the game played yesterday between Sammy Sammerson and Herb Woodman. Woodman's player rating was 2100 while Sammerson's was 1900, a full 200 points lower. "No way Sammerson coulda won," Marvin said. "No way at all!"

Marvin brought up the CheckahBoard computer program in another window on the computer screen and started playing through the moves in the game. Everything looked pretty normal. There were some small mistakes on each side but nothing out of line with the players' ratings and major league status.

1.	10-14	24-19
2.	7-10	22-17
3.	9-13	28-24
4.	13x22	25x9
5.	5x14	29-25
6.	11-15	25-22
7.	6-9	23-18
8.	14x23	27x11
9.	8x15	26-23
10.	9-14	32-28
11.	4-8	24-20
12.	15x24	28x19
13.	8-11	22-18
14.	1-5	18x9
15.	5x14	30-26
16.	2-7	19-16
17.	12x19	23x16
18.	10-15	26-22?

Marvin stopped at his point. "No," Marvin said, almost in a whisper, "that just couldn't have been." Then he said it louder. "No way Woodman played 26-22!" But in fact he had.

"What are you talking about?" an angry voice said behind him.

---

What move should Herb Woodman have played? How is Black now going to win? And what do you think is going on here? Correcting the error should be easy although playing out the win is quite a bit more work. Give it some thought and effort and then click on Read More to find some of the answers.

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Bismarck, North Dakota, is a cold weather city to say the least, and January is the coldest of all the months of the year. So the members of the Coffee and Cake Checker Club, which met on Saturday afternoons from just after Labor Day until just before Memorial Day, were very surprised when a visitor walked into their venue, the Beacon Cafe, on a very cold Saturday in January 1955. (Regular readers know that it's always 1955 at the Beacon Cafe.)

It was a few minutes after 1 PM and the "boys" who made up the club (all but one of whom were at least 50 years old) had gathered as usual in the big booths in the back of the Cafe. On seeing the new entrant, Sal Westerman, the Club's unofficial leader, stood up.

"Newboy!" he exclaimed. "Is it really you?"

The young visitor smiled, "Indeed it is, Sal!"

"Newboy" was actually a skilled checkerist named Bob Bertollin, whom Sal had played against during a major summer checker tournament in Las Vegas. Sal and Bob had tied for third and fourth in that high level event.

"I had no idea you were coming to Bismarck," Sal said. "What brings you here?"

"Just passing through on my way to Minneapolis," he said, "and as I knew about your club, I thought I'd stay overnight before continuing on tomorrow morning."

Sal smiled. "You're more than welcome to be here," he said. "Let me introduce you around."

Today Delmer, Wayne, Larry, Dan, Mike, Ron, Young Blaine, and Louie the Flash were on hand and they all shook hands and greeted "Newboy." Then Sal continued, "Tell you what, Newboy. You're a young and upcoming checkerist, and so is Young Blaine here. How about the two of you play a game while the rest of us kibitz?"

Young Blaine, upon hearing this, had kind of a wary look. "I don't know, Sal, you've said what a good player Newboy is; I don't think I'd have a chance."

Sal chuckled. "Tell you what, Young Blaine, how about this. I'll back you up. If you can win or even draw against Newboy here, I'll buy all the treats today."

Newboy quickly spoke up. "No Sal, I'll buy no matter what as long as Young Blaine here plays a game with me. Seems only right to thank you for your hospitality."

"Very nice of you, Newboy," Sal said, "so how about it?"

The rest of the boys urged Young Blaine on and he soon agreed. "Why not?" he finally said, and everyone cheered.

Deana, the proprietess of the Cafe and an award winning baker, not to mention a great marketer, casually mentioned that today she had freshly made chocolate macadamia bars. "A friend of mine brought me back some mac nuts from Hawai`i," she noted, "and the treats are extra-special today."

Deana then poured more coffee for everyone although Newboy actually requested hot tea. Then the game began with all of the boys watching closely.

Black: Young Blaine
White: Bob "Newboy" Bertollin

1.	12-16	24-20
2.	8-12	28-24
3.	3-8	23-18
4.	16-19	24x15
5.	10x19	21-17
6.	11-15	...

Sal and a couple of the boys frowned just a bit but tried not to let Young Blaine see their reaction to this move.

6.	...	18x11
7.	8x15	...

Newboy knew he now had a win.

---

What should Young Blaine have played instead of 11-15? And how is Newboy going to win it? A word of warning; the solution is long and requires precise play.

Although as always you'll need to supply your own treats, give this a try and then click on Read More to see the solution and the brief conclusion of our little story.

[Read More]

No one knew much about her, not where she lived, if anywhere; not who her parents were, if she even had any; not even what her real name might be, if she herself even knew what it was. They all just called her "The Little Checker Girl" because she would be seen on various streets around the downtown area of this big northern city, sitting with her back up against a building, her checkerboard on the sidewalk in front of her, asking and sometimes even begging passers-by to play a game with her.

"Play checkers for a dollar?" she would call out. "Easy to play, easy to win!" Once in a while someone would take pity, or take interest, or just take a moment, and a dollar bill would go into the grimy pocket of the girl's tattered overcoat.

They would see her even on cold days and often well after darkness, inviting play under a street lamp. "Only a dollar! Play a game before you go home!" But in the chill darkness of the night, there was no crowd and the few stragglers just wanted to go to their trains or cars or buses, to get home and out of the cold, to have a hot meal, and to climb into a warm bed. But there was none of that for the Little Checker Girl.

If someone asked her name she would perhaps say Suzie, or maybe Carol or Betty or something else. A few people, the ones who passed by more often, would ask, "What's your name today, Little Checker Girl?"

Little Checker Girl was thin and wan. She looked a bit better in the summer but the winters took their toll. She had been playing on the streets for about three years, and those who cared to think about it believed her to be around ten years old. But not likely, they said, to be around much longer.

This winter had unfortunately been especially severe, and there were many days and nights of cold and snowy weather. It was late in December and tonight was in fact Christmas Eve. Most offices had let out early and by dark the streets were nearly empty. But the Little Checker Girl was still huddled up against a building, hoping to play a game for a dollar; maybe someone would even give her an extra dollar because it was almost Christmas.

She needed the money badly; what no one knew was that she lived in a room in a crumbling apartment building that had long been abandoned. She had found a spot on a high enough floor where the drunks and the vagrants didn't go because it was too much of a climb on steep stairs. She got water from a faucet in a nearby courtyard. She had scavenged an old bucket and a little tiny oil stove on which she warmed whatever food she could obtain, and then use it--- sparingly, as oil was costly--- to make a little heat on the coldest nights.

Unfortunately on this night, on Christmas Eve, she had neither money nor food and the oil canister was empty. Filling it up cost five dollars and food cost a couple of dollars more. So she stayed out in the bleak night in the hopes of getting just enough money to buy a little fuel and something to eat.

But then it started to snow and the street was now completely empty. In sadness the Little Checker Girl packed up her board and pieces and started on her way to her bleak and cheerless home. It would be a cold and hungry night, but at least she could get out of the snow and the biting wind that was now blowing stinging snowflakes into her face.

However, the snow soon became so heavy that she couldn't see a foot in front of her. She must have lost her way, for much time had passed and still she hadn't reached the old building in which she took refuge.

Finally she gave up and went into an alleyway to get a respite from the wind. She huddled up in a corner, pressing her back into the walls of a grimy brick building, hoping that perhaps a little heat would leak through from inside. It was so very cold.

The Little Checker Girl wrapped her arms around herself and before long her eyes closed. Her mind as well as her body was numb and she wanted to sleep, not realizing that she might never again awaken.

"Little Checker Girl, wake up! I want to play a game of checkers with you!"

Slowly Little Checker Girl's eyes opened. Vaguely she remembered falling asleep--- or was it something else?--- in an alley in the midst of a snowstorm. But now she saw neither snow nor grimy walls nor dingy buildings. She was in a soft bed, covered with warm quilts, in a small rustic cabin where a fire was blazing brightly on the hearth.

The voice she heard belonged to an elderly, grey-haired woman with kind eyes and a soft expression. "Come over to the table," she said, "and in a moment we can play a game or two of checkers."

Little Checker Girl folded back the bedclothes and saw that she was clothed in a fine wool nightdress, with woolen stockings on her feet and a woolen cap on her head. There was no sign of her tattered overcoat or her other well-worn clothing. In the center of the cabin there was a rough wooden table, and on it was a fragrant loaf of bread, plates of butter and jam, and a steaming pot of tea ... and her checkerboard and pieces.

Little Checker Girl realized how hungry she was and, murmuring thanks, went to the table and spread slices of bread thick with jam and butter. She ate gratefully and drank some of the delicious hot tea. And while she had her meal, the best meal she could remember in ages and ages, the kindly old woman spoke.

"You know, your name isn't really Little Checker Girl," she said, "or any of the other names you've been using. It's actually Maureen and I know all about you. I know how your parents and brothers and sisters all died in a fire one night, and how you escaped with only your checkerboard and the clothes on your back. You were afraid and ran away and no one ever found you, for they all thought you died in the fire too."

Maureen looked up, surprised. "But I don't remember ... " she started to say, but the kindly woman interrupted.

"No you don't," she said, "it was so horrible your mind blocked out your memories. And even though I tell you of it now, it will all still stay locked away. That's for the best, I think, and in any event you are safe now in a warm place with food to eat and someone to care for you. If you wish, you may stay here with me for as long as you like. There are other children in the neighborhood with whom you can play, there are schools where you can go to learn, and you need not worry about anything ever again."

Maureen stood and walked around the cabin. Outside she could see a mist imbued with warm, ethereal light. "Oh! It is such a generous offer! I will of course stay here and live with you," she said. 'But what shall I call you?"

"My name is Seraphina, and I am your Guardian Angel."

Maureen smiled and went to Seraphina and gave her an affectionate hug. "Thank you again," Maureen said, "and we can play that game of checkers now if you wish."

---

Our story is of course inspired by the Hans Christian Andersen classic The Little Match Girl. We hope you found it appropriate to the season.

---

Maureen and Seraphina played checkers often and their games were always friendly, spirited, and a great source of enjoyment for them both. Here's one game that led to an interesting position.

1.	11-15	23-19
2.	7-11	22-17
3.	11-16	26-23
4.	16-20	30-26
5.	2-7	25-22
6.	8-11	19-16

22-18 was best here. Black now will get a solid advantage.

7.	12-19	23-16
8.	4-8	16-12
9.	11-16	17-13

How would you win this one? What move do you think Maureen played? Can you match wits with her? See what you can do and then click on Read More to see the solution.

[Read More]

"Please don't tell me you're thinking of another cruise," Marvin said.

"Oh, no, dear," Priscilla replied, "not in the least. After all, how could we top that cruise to Panama we took over Thanksgiving? That was marvelous, wasn't it?"

Priscilla, as our regular readers know, is Priscilla Snelson, the wife of Marvin J. Mavin, and the CEO of the giant international conglomerate Rust Belt Holdings. Marvin is the superstar Captain of the Detroit Doublejumpers, a team in the National Checker League, and one which has been a many time winner of the World Series of Checkers.

In our previous story, Marvin and Priscilla cruised on Luxury Lines from Miami to Panama, a voyage in which Marvin was coerced into giving checker lessons and directing a checker tournament. The cruise experience was much more to Priscilla's liking than to Marvin's.

"No, dear husband, we have a special invitation for Christmas dinner, and it's interesting that you should mention our cruise, as the invitation stemmed directly from someone we both met on-board."

Marvin was instantly wary. "Whaddya mean, Prissy?"

"Don't call me Prissy! How many times must I tell you that! But ... anyhow ... you remember that nice gentleman who sat next to you at Thanksgiving dinner at the Captain's table?"

Marvin in fact did remember all too well.

"Well," Priscilla continued, "wouldn't you know it, but he has a home nearby! Normally, of course, he works on Wall Street in New York, but he has a getaway mansion in Grosse Pointe and goes there for the holidays. Isn't that grand! You surely remember Nicolas N. Nickelson, the hedge fund manager?"

"Um ... uh ... like, are you sayin' that this stuck-up rich dude invited us and stuff?"

"Yes, he did! He and I got to be friends over drinks while you were doing your checker duties, and we'll be going to his vacation mansion for Christmas dinner!"

"I think even a cruise would be better than that," Marvin muttered under his breath. Then, aloud, he said, "Please tell me he didn't invite us for New Year's Eve, too?"

"Oh no, dear, that would have been nice, but he has to be back in New York to entertain clients from Qatar and Monte Carlo. In any case, we'll be joining my business friends for New Year's Eve at a private party one of them is putting on in Aspen."

Marvin was speechless, and perhaps that was just as well.

It was Christmas Day. Priscilla and Marvin had slept in and, just after breakfasting on a Christmas special of caviar served on poached eggs, they had exchanged gifts. Priscilla gave Marvin a diamond encrusted Swiss watch, even though she knew Marvin rarely wore a watch. "It's the thought that counts," she told him. In turn, Marvin gave Priscilla the keys to a brand new Mercedes, as her current Mercedes was already a good 18 months old, and by Priscilla's standards was due for replacement.

A cozy afternoon passed but at around 4 o'clock Priscilla reminded Marvin that it was time to change into dinner clothes. "Cocktails at 6, dinner at 8," she announced, "and I doubt that Mr. Nickelson would care to be kept waiting."

"Dinner clothes?" Marvin said. "I ain't got no ... "

"No, no," Priscilla interrupted. "Not a tux, just a dinner jacket, a white shirt, and a black bow tie. You've got several dinner jackets from other occasions. Just look in the back of your closet; I had one freshly dry-cleaned and pressed for you. Wasn't that considerate of me?"

Priscilla's limo proceeded at a stately pace down the quarter-mile long driveway of Nicholas Nickelson's vacation mansion, smartly turned into the loop at the top of the drive, and came to a gentle halt. Immediately liveried footmen opened the doors of the limo and showed Priscilla and Marvin to the enormous entryway.

Mr. Nickelson himself greeted the arriving couple just inside the door. "Dear sweet Priscilla," he exclaimed with a smile, kissing her once on each cheek. Then he turned to Marvin and, with seeming reluctance, offered a hand. "And you must be, of course, yes, that checker playing husband." His handshake was perfunctory at best. "I remember you from the cruise. You were a hired hand, weren't you, what with ... what did you do ... give lessons or something? Some sort of minimum wage job? Or did you just work for food?" Nickelson laughed. "Imagine that!" he said. "I can see the sign! 'Will teach checkers for food!' How marvelous a sight that would be!"

Marvin glanced over at Priscilla, who merely warned Marvin with a look not to say anything in return. But Nickelson wasn't quite done. "Maybe I can introduce you to some of my hedge fund friends! Perhaps they'd give you a hot dog in return for a lesson! But I'm in the business of making money for myself and my clients. Scads of money. So we have to play chess, not checkers."

"That old line again?" Marvin said, unable to hold back. "I heard that at from all those CEOs this past summer and I had to straighten them out!" (Please see our previous Checker Maven story.)

"Oh," Nickelson said, "did you teach some CEOs? Did they feed you well? Hamburgers, even? Or are you happy with instant ramen!" He laughed again.

"Dude, do you play checkers?" Marvin said it almost in a growl. Priscilla grabbed his upper arm and squeezed hard in further warning. But it was too late.

""Course I do," said Nickelson with a laugh. "Who doesn't? It's a kid's game, right, we all learned it as kids, except apparently----" Nickelson paused to look Marvin in the eyes--- "some of the kids never grew up! Ha ha ha!" He paused a moment. "But anyhow, did I invite you to this party? Why are you here?"

Priscilla finally spoke up. "Marvin is my husband, don't you remember? You invited us as I recall."

Nickelson reflected a moment. "Yes, 'spose so," he said, "but I didn't think you'd actually bring him. I thought we were going to, you know, have a nice little night of private time upstairs, just you and I. What do you think, Marvin, wouldn't that be nice ... for Priscilla and I to have a little alone time, upstairs?"

Marvin made a fist, pulled back his arm, and was about to connect with Nickelson's nose when Priscilla yanked him back. "No violence, honey," she said. "I think I mis-estimated Mr. Nickelson quite badly. You were quite insulting, sir, and I tried to get Marvin to remain polite with you, but you've pushed things too far and your suggestive talk insulted me as well. So here's what I propose. Instead of Marvin slugging you in the nose and knocking you on your fat tail, but probably getting arrested for doing so, how about the two of you play a nice little game of checkers? You say you're this superior chess person, so surely you'd win a simple game against someone whom you say isn't even a real grownup?"

Nickelson glared. "Sure," he said, "I'll take on your child husband, but let's make it worthwhile. What do you say we stake $100,000 on the game?"

"Oh, no," Priscilla said, "let's make it even more interesting. $500,000. And you get draw odds. You win the bet if Marvin loses or draws."

"Honey, gee," Marvin said, "draw odds? That's takin' a risk ... "

"You'll win," Priscilla said, "or I'll be the one breaking your nose."

"Let's do it," Nickelson said, and then announced the terms of the match to the partygoers. One of the event staff set up a checkerboard and the crowd gathered around to watch.

The game began. Nickelson played a reasonably decent game and the position came down to the one shown below with Marvin to move.

"A cool half million," Nickelson said, "for you can't possibly win this one. Half a million, why, that's a week's worth of my earnings! It will be nice to have!"

---

A lot is on the line; half a million dollars, and definitely ego and prestige. Marvin surely must be feeling the pressure. There's no pressure on you, though; solve the problem at leisure without (we hope) any risk of losing a lot of money and status, not to mention getting punched in the nose. When you're ready, click on Read More to see the solution and the conclusion of our story.

[Read More]

"We know you had a great time over Thanksgiving at your sister in law's place in Dickinson," Delmer said. "So tell us, are you going in for a repeat performance this Christmas? Maybe you can stay until New Year's Day!"

Everyone laughed, except the target of the remark, the elderly gentleman Sal Westerman.

The location was the Beacon Cafe in Bismarck, North Dakota. It was December 1955 and the holidays were just a week away. The occasion was the weekly meeting of the Coffee and Cake Checker Club, which met every Saturday afternoon from just after Labor Day to just before Memorial Day, with time out for the Thanksgiving and Christmas / New Year's holidays.

Sal was the club's informal leader, and the ones teasing him were the "boys" of whom all but one were at least 50 years old.

In our previous Beacon Cafe story, we recounted how Sal's wife, Sylvia, got him to go out to Dickinson for Thanksgiving at her sister in law Phoebe's home. Phoebe and Sal, as also recounted in previous stories, didn't exactly have a cordial relationship, what with Phoebe's constant criticism of Sal's checker hobby, among many other perceived shortcomings.

"No," Sal finally replied, slowly and deliberately, "we won't be going to Dickinson. Our daughter Joyce is able to get some time off from the law practice and will come over from Washington for a visit. We'll be staying home and spending our time with her."

Everyone commented as to how nice that would be. The boys individually commented on their own plans. Most of them would be home with family or going out to the family farm for several days. Louie the Flash, predictably, had a girlfriend lined up and would have Christmas at her place. He wasn't so sure about New Year's Eve, though, as he said "the relationship really isn't going all that well." That got another laugh from everyone, as Louie went through girlfriends as fast as a Cadillac went through gas.

Deana, the proprietess of the Cafe, would of course visit with family in Gackle and close the Cafe for about ten days. But when it came to Young Blaine, who had over the summer gotten married to his now-wife Moira, the teasing shifted away from Sal and onto Young Blaine.

"So then, Young Blaine," Wayne began, "are you taking Moira on a spectacular holiday vacation?"

Young Blaine turned a bit red. "Actually," he said, "that's something of a problem."

"What do you mean?" Dan asked. "You just buy a ticket to Paris or Rome and off you go! Problem solved."

"Uh, remember, I'm just an Assistant Engineer," Young Blaine replied, "and I can't afford that kind of thing."

"With you and Moira both working?" Dan added.

"Besides," Young Blaine continued, "neither of us have that much vacation time, especially after our honeymoon. But ... well ... that's kind of what Moira and I have been ... disagreeing about."

"Fighting, you mean?" Wayne said.

"Not exactly fighting ... well, okay, a little. Moira didn't think our honeymoon was long enough and she wants what she calls a 'continuation" and she wants it in Hawai`i."

"Oh, boy," Larry said, "get out your checkbook for that one."

"I know," Young Blaine went on, "and she says we have enough vacation to go for one week. But that hardly seems worth it, to spend so much money for just a week. I want her to wait for summer when we can go for two weeks, as we'll have more money and vacation time saved up. But she won't hear of it. 'Now or never' she says, and the 'never' part sounds kind of ... I don't know ... threatening?"

At this moment Sal chuckled. "Young Blaine," he said, "Moira is a new bride, and she wants to keep that special 'just married' feeling. You can't blame her for that. Certainly she's not threatenng you; she just wants to get your attention. Now, take it from me. You're only young once, and not even for all that long, and hopefully you're only newly married once. So go along with things. Make her extra happy. Take out a small loan if you must. Show her that she's at least as special after marriage as she was before. You'll never regret it."

There were nods around the table, and even Deana (who had never herself been married) chimed in.

"Uh ... okay ... " Blaine stammered, "but ... uh ... Sal ... shouldn't we be doing a checker problem or something?"

Sal chuckled once more. "Yes, Young Blaine, we should, and you've had enough teasing and free advice for one afternoon. Here you go, boys."

Sal laid out the following position on a couple of the checkerboards in the big booth in the back of the Cafe where the boys always sat. And of course Deana announced today's treat: apple strudel. The way it always worked was that the boy would attempt Sal's problem and if they solved it Sal bought the treats; if they couldn't, they bought treats for Sal and Sylvia.

Sal gave the boys an hour and soon they were in deep concentration.

---

A second honeymoon in Hawai`i over the holidays; that's quite a lot for Young Blaine to think about. While we don't know what you, our reader, will be doing over the holidays, we suspect it may not be a second honeymoon--- but who knows? Anything can and does happen in the world of checkers. Meanwhile, though, see how you do on today's problem, and then click on Read More for the solution and the brief, and possibly surprising, conclusion to our story.

[Read More]