The men that were paying him to bring the Firestone from Ramtr's surface, accusing him of trickery and lying just to get some creds. Or worse. Standing and accusing him of keeping it for himself.
...not that I wouldn't have seen if there were better prices. I deserve it for having to gamble all that clothing away!
Don's frown grew deeper as he thought over the last few games before the final win. Damnable people, taking his best boots. His best pair, the ones that he'd seen would never let a drop of rainwater leak through! The ones he had protected against all scuffs and dents!
He never understood why some lazy coots wouldn't travel there. It's not like the people on Ramtr didn't allow visitors--they had to, if they wanted to keep company other than their workmen! Of course, no one was allowed down in the mines, but they had a nice city center to get some food and buy several trinkets.
The cheats had to have used some kind of tricks. Had to! We were playing cards and...
And he found himself in front of the one door that he'd intended to get to. Looking back in surprise, Don shook his head and put a hand to his pocket full of tinted paper.