Last night, in the TC Library parking lot, I dropped my wallet. No problem. I reached down and picked it up, then drove straight home, just four minutes away. Uneventful, right? Except this morning, I couldn't find it anywhere. Not in my pockets, not in the house, not in the car... After church, I cleared out the car again to find it. Nothing. When I walked back into the house, the phone rang. "Hello?" The caller asked if I had lost a wallet. "Yes! I was just looking for that!..." On the way out the door, I asked Laura if she had any spare cash for reward money, and I jumped in my car to meet this guy, 11 minutes away. Turns out that he's a young man working on a road repair crew filling cracks at a bank parking lot. I got my wallet back and gratefully handed him a twenty. "Where did you find my wallet?" He and his tar-stained buddies found it about a mile away in the middle of Hwy 31. "What? Really! In the middle of the highway!..." On
