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he said. “I just bought this goddamned thing, and I miss my old 182 bad.”
    “Have you had any instruction in it?” Teddy asked.
    “I had one day with a guy,” Strunk said, “then he got the flu, then I got the flu, and by the time I was out of bed, he was long gone. I reckoned I just needed some time in the left seat and I could do it alone. I’m starting to believe I was wrong. You got any jet fuel here?”
    “I’m afraid not,” Teddy said, “but from what I’ve read about that airplane, you can add enough 100 Low Lead aviation fuel to your tanks for a flight over to Gallup, where they’ve got Jet A.”
    “Have you got a cold drink around here?” Strunk asked.
    “Sure, come on inside, and we’ll find you a Coke.”
    Strunk stopped at Teddy’s 182 RG and walked around it. “Can I have a look inside?” he asked.
    “It’s unlocked.”
    Teddy waited while Strunk had a good look at the avionics, then he took the man inside and put a cold Coke in his hand. Strunk collapsed into the old leather armchair in the office. He downed the Coke in one long swig. “Gotta get my blood sugar back up,” he said. “Haven’t eaten all day.”
    Teddy got him some cheese and crackers from the vending machine and another Coke, and he gradually stopped looking so shaky.
    “Where you from?” Teddy asked.
    “Las Vegas, New Mexico, east of Santa Fe. I been flying around all day, trying to get a handle on that airplane, and I haven’t made it.”
    “There’s a motel over there, if you want to get a night’s rest,” Teddy said. “If you don’t want to add the 100LL to your tanks, I’ll drive over to Gallup and get you fifty gallons of Jet A in jerry cans.”
    Strunk thought about that. “Is that your 182 out back?”
    “Sure is. It’s a retractable.”
    “Nice one.”
    “Thanks. I do all my own maintenance, and I put a Garmin glass panel in it.”
    “I saw that.”
    An idea was forming in Teddy’s mind, and he thought that all he had to do to make it work was nothing.
    “Now, that is my kind of airplane,” he said, “and you’ve made it beautiful. How old is it?”
    “One of the last dozen manufactured, before they shut down, then started up again,” Teddy said.
    Strunk asked some questions about the avionics and seemed satisfied with the answers. “Would you consider a trade?” he asked.
    “You mean a swap? Mine for yours?”
    “That’s exactly right. I’ll give you the deal of a lifetime.”
    “You mean you want to take a bath on that like-new turboprop, just to get back into an airplane you feel comfortable in?”
    “I can afford the bath,” Strunk said. “I’m an impatient man, and I’m what you might call a highly motivated seller. Can I see your logbooks?”
    Teddy went to the office closet and retrieved a nylon briefcase. “All the records are in there,” he said, handing it over.
    “Mine are in a leather bag on the rear seat,” Strunk said. “You go have a look, then we’ll talk.”
    The two men perused each other’s logbooks, and Teddy began to get excited. The Mirage had had only a hundred hours on it when the conversion to turboprop took place, and only twenty-two hours since. He put down the bag and walked back to the l82.
    “Satisfied?” Strunk asked.
    “It’s a very nice airplane,” he said.
    “Let me make you an offer,” Strunk said, scratching his head. “You give me your airplane and half a million dollars cash, and you’ve got yourself a brand-new, almost, JetPROP.”
    “Any liens on it?” Teddy asked.
    “None. I pay cash for everything. Tell you what, if you haven’t got the half million in cash, I’ll give you a short-term loan with a balloon in a year—give you time to arrange financing.”
    “I pay cash for everything, too,” Teddy said, “but I’ve only got four hundred grand on me.”
    Strunk laughed loudly. “On you?”
    “In a deposit box not half a mile from here,” Teddy said.
    “I hadn’t reckoned on that big a bath,” Strunk