Pongo Smith's adrenaline could have burst a fire hose. The cash wouldn't stop gushing. He had to keep pulling bills from the slot to make room for the ATM to feed new ones. Then his sluggish brain kicked in. This is too good to be true. He felt a blast of fear as cold as the snow-packed slopes that surrounded the Indian casino. He knew the eye in the sky was watching, so he took a deep breath and tried to appear relaxed; hoping whatever video feed he was on wasn't being monitored. But he couldn’t resist looking around to make sure he wasn't being watched by anyone else. He didn’t see anyone looking his way. No widened eyes, no suddenly averted gazes.