We spent a few more day in Yosemite then decided to go to Tahoe and visit Randy’s grandfather in Kings Beach.

After another overnight journey at forty-five miles an hour, we arrived at the lake with few remaining joynts and nine dollars between us.
Staying at his grandfathers trailer park we were able to remain in Tahoe for another three days before our money ran out.

On the last night, after deciding to return to the San Francisco Bay Area, I went into a gas station to take a leak and sitting on the back of the toilet, in contrasting black, stuffed full of money, sat a joyously fat leather wallet. Being a teenager with no scruples, I grabbed that billfold, sprinted back to the car and screamed for Randy to get us out of there.

After going through the wallet, we found a disappointing fifty dollars cash and a pile of credit cards.

We planned on dumping the wallet in the trash, but when I found the driver’s license, I realized I’d seen that guy a few minutes earlier in a local liquor store. We decided that fifty was ample reward for returning the guy’s wallet, so I took it back to the liquor store to give to the clerk.

As luck would have it, I was handing the billfold to the clerk the second the owner walked in. Boy was I busted. Instead of taking the wallet, the clerk motioned toward him. I turned and I handed the wallet over with what I was sure was a bright red face.

Quickly, he rifled it, then accused me of stealing the money.

I was so positive the money was my just reward for returning the arrant wallet, I held my ground, denied all accusations and told him I found it that way. What self-respecting teenager wouldn’t do the same?

There were a few minutes of glares and threats and his face got red with anger. For a moment, I thought I was going to have to make a run for it, but the guy’s friend finally talked him into thanking us for returning the wallet, which he did reluctantly and much to my relief, they left.

Randy and I spent the next two weeks living the high life in Tahoe on that fifty.