"One designer suit, damaged by a rogue paintball during a spate of office warfare. Four silk handkerchiefs sacrificed to our team’s seeming inability to aim fast-food toward their mouths. An eight dollar lunchtime entree in which I was unable to partake due to Mr. Tanner’s insistence on ‘grabbing a taste’ without waiting for permission."

"What are you doing Ezra?" Chris asked, watching him make notes in his journal.

"Taking inventory of damages I’ve suffered since joining Team Seven."

"Planning to sue?"

"No, but it is wise to keep track of those who owe monetary favors. The tally is currently $4,178.00."

"I’m telling you, the guy is a regular fountain of useless facts," Buck declared.

"Astonishing ability really," Ezra confirmed.

The salesman frowned. "That was just luck. You’re saying he can come up with a fact about anything I give him?"

With a flourish, Ezra held up 10 dollars. "Double or nothing?"

Determinedly, the man produced his own money. "The year 1487!"

Josiah sipped his drink and smiled. "Ah, that would be the year the citizens of Leeuwarden Netherlands rebelled against the ban on foreign beer."

Helping himself to the gawping man’s money, Buck gloated, "Always bet on a sure thing."