“Just naturally he says to himself that Blivins an’ Dunning was a-playin’ whipsaw an’ cal’latin’ to scare him out right away. Dunnigan was the man he was after, same as the others was, an’ he reckoned he could beat Dunnigan, but he didn’t see how he was goin’ to stand up against the other two. Talk about your self-control. There was a man that felt certain in his own mind that he had the winnin’ hand when he reely had the poorest one in the game. He was low man for fair, but you couldn’t ha’ made him think so just then. An’ ’twas sharper than a serpent’s tooth to see the other two fellers gettin’ away with Dunnigan’s money, as he could see they was likely to do.

“What did he do? Why, he throwed down his cards o’ course, like a good player as he was. He knowed that, although the chances was that he had the best hand, he was goin’ to have to play that hand so high that the three chances against him made it poor play to back it. An’ mind you, ’twarn’t honest play he was lookin’ for, but a whipsaw game by two men with plenty of money an’ more nerve.

“Blivins couldn’t do no less than raise it another thousand, an’ it was up to Dunnigan to make the play of his life. He thought he was makin’ it when he saw both raises an’ went two thousand better. I don’t know but what I might ha’ done the same thing, but I’ve played poker now longer’n I had then, an’ I’ve seen four of a kind out a good many times. ’Pears to me like I’d ha’ sensed somethin’ o’ the sort when I see two good players bettin’ like them two did, an’ one of ’em drawin’ two cards an’ the other only one.

“Anyhow, he raised, as I said, an’ then o’ course he was their cold meat. All they had to do was to wait on one another, so Dunning he raised an’ Blivins chipped along. Dunnigan naturally thought he had one of ’em beat, an’ he raised again, hoping to scare the other one out. He made his raise five thousand this time, as was entirely proper, seein’ he’d made up his mind to bet, but he was considerable surprised when Dunning fingered his roll an’ called for a show on two thousand, which was all he had left, an’ then Blivins makes good an’ goes him five thousand more.

“That was a little more than poor fallen human nature could stand. Just naturally he was certain that Blivins was bluffing, an’ havin’ more money in his pocket than was reely good for him, he makes another bluff hisself, havin’, as I say, parted entirely with his self-control.

“Blivins was well fixed, too, though, an’ he comes back at him again, so Dunnigan see it was plump foolishness to raise any more, an’ he called. I’ve heerd people criticize his play, sayin’ that he’d either oughter laid down or raised again, but I’m free to say that I don’t agree with ’em. A king full was good enough to call on, but nothin’ short of a straight flush was good enough to raise on against Blivins’s play, according to my notions.

“I’ve heerd people say, too, that they didn’t believe Dunning dealt them cards honest, but I seen the expression on his face when Blivins showed down four queens against his four tens an’ raked the pot. If he warn’t genuinely surprised I never see any one that was.

“That broke up the game, for the cattle-dealer didn’t want to go plumb broke an’ he dropped out, so there wern’t no use in prolongin’ the struggle. But if ever a man had cause to be thankful for his self-control, Jim Waters had when he laid down his ace flush.”

XV

HE SAT IN WITH A V

“I hear a lot o’ talk,” said old man Greenhut, as he wiped up the bar and set his bottles and glasses in order, “about modern progress an’ the elevatin’ influences of eddication, an’ sich, but I’ll be everlastingly hornswaggled if it don’t appear to me that young folks nowadays is sure a degenerate lot. I don’t mean boys, for there can’t nobody tell what a boy’s goin’ to turn out to be. I’ve seen reg’lar milksops that went to Sunday school an’ wore neckties, or, mebbe, played with their sisters up to the time they was seventeen or eighteen, turn all of a suddin like, an’ develop into rip-roaring good citizens that could take their own part in anything that came along from a poker party to a political meetin’, an’ was a right down credit to the community. An’ similar I’ve seen right lively youngsters o’ fifteen an’ sixteen, that was full o’ ginger and gave every promise o’ bein’ husky citizens, take to foppish ways by the time they was twenty, an’ go around smokin’ cigarettes. No, there ain’t no tellin’ about boys.

“What I mean,” continued the old man, as he came around to his favourite seat by the window, “is the no-’count ways that the younger men of to-day seem to be fallin’ into. Why, talkin’ about cigarettes, there’s grown men smokes ’em now, just as shameless as if they was smokin’ honest tobacco in a pipe. An’ I don’t mean dagos and creoles an’ sich, but full-grown men. An’ what with temp’rance societies, an’ the women tryin’ to vote an’ gettin’ the men to uphold ’em in it, the country seems to be a-goin’ hell to breakfast cross lots an’ sideways.

“You don’t see none o’ the old style o’ men scarcely. Forty year ago men was different. They wasn’t afraid to drink four fingers to once o’ good liquor, an’ a word meant a blow an’ a blow meant a shot. Consequences was men was careful what they said, an’ was a heap sight more polite. An’ they played a man’s game o’ poker in them days. Nowadays they tell me the women is playin’ it, an’ it’s got to be a reg’lar parlour amusement.

“Sam Nichols was in here only the other night an’ somebody ast him to take a hand in a little game that was goin’ on in the back room, an’ he laughed an’ says: ‘No, I ain’t a-playin’ poker anywheres now ’ceptin’ at home. My wife, she’s learned the game an’ some o’ the neighbours comes in with their wives, an’ we plays ten-cent limit. You have all the fun o’ poker an’ it don’t cost nothin’ to speak of.’ An’ Sam, he used to be one o’ the stiffest players in Arkansas City.

“Just naturally, I was disgusted for fair. ‘Yes, Sam,’ I says, ‘you can have all the fun o’ poker if you leave out all there is in the game that makes it worth playin’. Certainly you can. An’ you could have all the fun of eatin’, too, if you was to take all your teeth out an’ gum it on a piece o’ sponge. But you wouldn’t get no nourishment out of it, I reckon. An’ similar, I’d like to know what sort o’ nutriment for a grown man there is in a ten-cent limit game. You sure make me sick.’ ”

The old man smoked in silence for a few minutes after he had got all this out and then began to chuckle. “It wasn’t no ten-cent limit game they was playin’ in here the night Park Halloway made his big haul,” he said, still chuckling. “That was a grown man’s game. The boys had been a little short o’ money for three or four weeks, an’ had got to playin’ a table stakes game among themselves. You see there hadn’t been no strangers in town since Three-finger Pete an’ his pal come in an’ done up the crowd with some marked cards they’d had sent here ahead of ’em.

“That was the slickest trick that was ever played on this community. Didn’t you never hear of it? Why that was told all up an’ down the river for years an’ years. It ’peared that Three-fingered Pete was special sore on Arkansas City for doin’ him up bad the first time he come here, an’ he swore he’d get even. So he waits a long time an’ he gets in with a feller that dealt in cards wholesale. That feller was afterward shot, but we never caught Pete.

“Well, Pete managed to get a line on everybody in Arkansas City that bought an’ sold cards. There was only three stores where they kept ’em, an’ this feller that I’m tellin’ about sold to all three. Well, Pete, he fixed up a set o’ marks entirely original an’ clever enough to fool the devil himself, an’ for three whole years he marked every pack that came to Arkansas City, so’s to be sure that no other kind o’ cards would be in use in the town when he come. He was a good stayer, Pete was, an’ he played a long game on this.

“After he was plumb certain that there wasn’t no old stock left over in town, he drifted in one day, an’ his pal followed next day. They was too slick to come together, or to let on that they knowed each other. Well, just naturally, when every pack o’ cards in town was marked, an’ only two men knowed it, and both o’ them had been practisin’ on readin’ them marks till they knowed the backs as well as they did the fronts, them two men took away all the available cash capital there was in Arkansas City. It was a rich haul, an’ everybody ’lowed that Pete was entitled to great credit for the way he worked it, though just naturally we was all pretty sore when we found it out, which we didn’t till Pete an’ the other feller had got away to Mexico.

“Well, as I was sayin’, the boys was a-gettin’ on the best way they could after that cyclone, an’ playin’ mumbletypeg amongst themselves with their odd change till some more strangers would come along an’ give ’em a chance to git their money back. An’ it had been goin’ on that way for some weeks when it come that night I was tellin’ of, that Park Halloway made his big play.

“It was a dispensation o’ Providence, sure enough, that sent three cotton factors up f’m New Orleans just at that time. They was comin’ up to dicker with some o’ the planters for the next crop, there havin’ been some difficulty in the market that had got a lot o’ planters dissatisfied, and these new factors had all sorts o’ money with ’em. They was stoppin’ over in Arkansas City to make some inquiries, an’ just naturally they set into a little game while they was a-waitin’ for the next boat.

“Jim Farley an’ Dick Hackett had been playin’ with ’em for about a hour when Halloway come in, an’ naturally they had accumulated some wealth, so that the game was pretty healthy. It was table stakes, but there wasn’t one o’ the five that didn’t have over a hundred in front of him, so when Halloway come in an’ ast if he c’d have a hand we was some surprised. He’d been as near broke as anybody in town since Pete’s raid, an’ it didn’t seem likely that he had money enough to set in with.

“So when he ast to set in, Hackett looked up a little doubtful an’ says, ‘Why, cert’nly, Park, but we’re playin’ table stakes,’ an’ he looked around at the money then in sight as much as to say, ‘That sort o’ lets you out, don’t it?’

“But Halloway, he grinned an’ says, ‘That’s the on’y game where I could get a show for my money, I reckon,’ an’ he sets down an’ flashes a five-dollar bill as sassy as you please. ‘I’ll make it as quick play as I can,’ he says, still grinnin’, an’ they all laughed an’ pushed him over five white chips.

“Well, it was his age an’ he antes a white chip as the others had been doin’ an’ let his cards lay face down till they’d all come in. Then, still without lookin’ at his cards, he made his ante good an’ shoved up the other three. One o’ the factors sat next an’ he saw. Then Hackett raised it five on the side, Halloway havin’, o’ course, a show for his money. The other two factors, Davis and Allen their names was, they was lookin’ for trouble, so they come in, an’ Farley, settin’ next, h’isted it ten dollars.

“Course, Halloway hadn’t nothin’ to say, an’ Smith, the first factor, he laid down. So did Hackett an’ Davis, but Allen come back with ten more, an’ Farley called it. Then Davis showed an ace high straight an’ Farley a small flush. Halloway waited till they was through, an’ then he turned his cards over. They was a ten full on sixes.

“That sort o’ gave him a footin’ in the game, for he had, o’ course, thirty dollars instead o’ five, an’ while Hackett was ten dollars out, Farley had won thirty dollars. The strangers was flush, anyhow, an’ they wasn’t a mite disturbed.

“It was Halloway’s deal next, an’ when it come his turn to see the ante he threw his cards away without lookin’ at ’em. ‘I’ll bet the next hand,’ he says, ‘same as I did the last, an’ I’d ruther not do it on my own deal.’ So they played that hand without him, an’ Hackett won it, with about forty dollars in the pot.

“Sure enough, in the next deal, Halloway shoved his thirty dollars in the pot without looking at his hand. Just naturally nobody thought he’d win again, so they bet as if he wasn’t in the game. Smith an’ Farley laid down, but Hackett an’ Davis raised back an’ forth till Hackett called for a show for his money. Allen stood one raise, but laid down on the second.

“Then came another surprise. Davis had three queens, Hackett had three kings, an’ Halloway had three aces. He won ninety dollars on that deal, an’ Hackett won something like a hundred an’ fifty.

“When the cards was dealt next time there was a jack-pot, for they was a-playin’ with a buck an’ Hackett had it. They made it a five-dollar jack, an’ Davis an’ Allen an’ Farley passed. That brung it up to Halloway an’ he opened it for twenty-five dollars. Smith an’ Hackett come in, Davis raised it fifty, Allen an’ Farley come in, an’ Halloway shoved up all he had which was forty dollars more. An’ once more they all come in. I don’t remember that I ever see anything just like it afore, but each man of the six drawed one card an’ not one of ’em bettered his hand. Davis was raisin’ on a four straight flush, king high, an’, of course, wanted to play it as hard as he could, but the others was drawin’ to four straights an’ four flushes exceptin’ Halloway, an’ he had aces up.

“Then he was in the game with all four feet, for he’d won more’n seven hundred dollars off’n his V-spot in three deals. We was all struck, but Park on’y grinned an’ says, quiet like, ‘ ’Pears as though I’d struck my gait, don’t it?’ which it sure did.

That warn’t the end of it, though, for on the next deal, Allen having the age, an’ Farley comin’ in, Halloway simply made good with his little two dollars, waitin’, as it appeared, for somebody else to raise. It was good play, too, for when it come Smith’s turn he raised it ten dollars. The others all come in, an’ Halloway raised it twenty-five. This kind o’ staggered ’em, an’ Hackett an’ Farley, knowin’ Halloway as well as they did, laid down, but the strangers all thought he was bluffin’ on the stren’th of his run o’ luck, an’ all three of ’em made good. Allen drew three cards to a pair of aces. Halloway drew one, holdin’ a kicker to three sevens, Smith drew two to three jacks, an’ Davis, who was dealing, drew one to a four flush.

Allen got his third ace. Halloway got his fourth seven. Smith didn’t better, an’ Davis filled his flush, so if ever the Lord was good to a man, He cert’nly was good to Halloway. It was his first bet, Farley havin’ passed out, an’ he put up fifty dollars. Smith came in, figgerin’ that some one else’d raise, which Davis did for fifty dollars more. Allen studied on his three aces for awhile an’ then come in. I don’t know what sort of poker he thought he was playin’, but I reckon he thought Halloway an’ Davis was both bluffin’. Just naturally Halloway come back with a hundred more, an’ Smith an’ Allen laid down, Davis callin’. That made seven hundred and ten dollars in the pot, of which four hundred and seventy-three dollars went to his profit an’ loss account, makin’ his winnin’s up to this time one thousand one hundred and eighty-eight dollars, which was doin’ well for a five-dollar bill in four pots.

By this time the others was all proper astonished, an’ Davis showed a little temper. He’d been hit pretty hard three times an’ was aggravated, but Halloway never said nothin’. On’y just set there an’ grinned, an’ once more the lightnin’ struck in the same place. It was a short game an’ a tol’able warm one.

The next deal was Davis’s, an’ as Halloway had the first say he come in without lookin’ at his cards. The next two men come in, an’ Davis raised it fifty. That showed, o’ course, that he was lookin’ for fight, for there wa’n’t but seven dollars in the pot up to then, an’ nobody had showed any stren’th. Allen an’ Farley looked over their cards pretty careful, an’ findin’ no encouragement they dropped.

Then Halloway picked up his cards an’ skint ’em down slow. The luck was still with him, for he had four treys. He was a cool player, though, an’ pretended to be studyin’ the cards, while he was really studyin’ how to play Davis good and hard again. He knowed it was no good to think about the others, for they wouldn’t be likely to stand Davis’s raise, let alone his, if he should raise back. So he thought awhile an’ then raised it a hundred.

That made Davis madder’n ever. ‘You can’t bluff me that way,’ he says, very nasty, an’ as the other two laid down, he come back with two hundred more. Then, o’ course, Halloway had him. He looked more serious than ever for awhile, and finally he says, ‘Well, I reckon I’ll draw one card,’ shovin’ up his two hundred as he spoke.

He let the card lay as it was dealt to him, an’ Davis, havin’ a pat flush, o’ course, drew none. Halloway looked at him for a minute, as if tryin’ to study out whether he was bluffin’ or not, an’ finally says: ‘Well, I’ll bet you five hundred, anyway.’

‘An’ I’ll raise you a thousand,’ said Davis, with some sort o’ French swearin’ that I reckon he must ha’ brought f’m New Orleans, f’r I never heerd anything like it around here.

Halloway grinned again, an’ he says: ‘I’m sorry I can’t see your thousand, but I’ll call for a show for what I have, an’ I reckon my cards is good.’ An’ he showed down his four treys.

Well, that broke up the game. Davis was too mad to play any more, an’ his pals see that it was foolish for them to stack up against any such luck as Halloway was settin’ in. But it was a monstrous good game while it lasted. I never seen five dollars grow to two thousand three hundred and eighty-six quite so quick, afore nor since.”

XVI

HIS QUEER SYSTEM

“ ‘Tain’t a matter of record,” said old man Greenhut, with a reminiscent look in his eye, “that any stranger has ever come to Arkansas City with any notion o’ doin’ up the town what got away with the proposition an’ any consid’able remnant o’ the wad he had with him when he arrove. The citizens o’ this town is mostly capable men, what is well qualified to drink red liquor straight an’ set into ’most any sort of a game without drawin’ weepons, ’less there’s some provocations, an’ when it comes to draw-poker it’s universally acknowledged up an’ down the river that there ain’t no superior game played anywhere. The galoot that comes here with a notion in his nut o’ makin’ a everlastin’ fortune out o’ such hands as a merciful Providence may allow him to hold in two or three nights’ play is gen’ly considered to be runnin’ in great luck if he gets out o’ town without havin’ a subscription took up for his benefit about the time the next boat ties up.

There has been a good many times, true enough, when things looked doubtful. Players has come that had new wrinkles in the way o’ holdin’ out, or stackin’ the cards, or some new system o’ play that puzzled the boys for awhile. An’ there’s been some come that sure knowed the game an’ played it almighty skilful. But none of ’em, as I said, ever reely got away with the proposition.

There was one feller, though, that showed up here about six years ago, that come monstrous near breakin’ the record. That is to say, if he’d have understood the first principles o’ poker he’d ha’ busted the town wide open, an’ the mortifyin’ thing about it was ’twas poker he was playin’. That is, ’twas called poker, an’ he sure did win, but the way he played it was one o’ the seven wonders o’ the world. We talked about it quite some, after he left, an’ the unanimous verdict was that if he ha’ knowed what he was doin’ an’ how to do it, he’d ha’ just everlastin’ly skint the entire crowd out o’ what money there was, instead o’ comin’ out consid’able ahead, an’ him not knowin’ just how he done it or what he’d done. It sure were bewilderin’, an’ well cal’lated to make a man lose his faith in Providence, ’thout he was one that stuck to his religion spite of anything.

The puzzlin’ thing about it were that the feller seemed to be playin’ poker all the time, an’ the rest o’ the party was playin’ it for all they knew, but he were either playin’ on a system that was entirely unbeknownst to everybody in this part o’ the world, or else he were that outrageous ignorant o’ first principles as would disgrace a half-grown boy. An’ yet he won! Some of ’em was inclined to think at first that it were a new system, an’ there was a good deal o’ speculation on how it would work, played constant, but nobody had the nerve to try it, seein’ it were plumb contrary to all science as poker is understood, an’ they couldn’t get up that child-like confidence in heaven’s mercy that would lead ’em to look for over-whelmin’ luck in the matter o’ cards at the critical moments o’ the game.

The way of it was this. He just landed from the boat one day an’ walked up the levee a bit, lookin’ round, an’ sayin’ nothin’ to nobody. There didn’t seem to be no reason for anybody to pay attention to him, an’ consequent nobody did, for he wa’n’t a man that looked like a sport, nor yet a business man. Just ’peared to have got out f’m somewheres an’ didn’t know his way back. After he looked round a spell, he sort o’ drifted in to the hotel an’ wrote his name, absent-minded like, on the register, an’ said ‘Yes’ when the proprietor ast him if he wanted a room. Then he just sat round for a day or two, sayin’ nothin’ to nobody all the time. Didn’t appear to have ambition enough to eat his meals, for he’d wait till everybody else was most through ’fore he’d go into the dinin’-room. An’ even when he took a drink, which wa’n’t often, he did it all alone without seemin’ to take no interest in it.

“ ‘Long about the third day he began takin’ short walks, an’ bimeby he got as far as to come in here an’ look ’round. Seein’ the bar, he called for some red liquor an’ drank it, an’ then seein’ a chair he sot down. There hadn’t been much doin’ for a week or two, an’ I says to Jake Winterbottom that it mought be a good idea to start a game o’ poker. ‘This here stranger,’ I says, ‘don’t look as if he knowed one card from another, but ’tain’t likely he’s quite as simple as he looks, an’ mebbe,’ I says, ‘you might get him into the game. Don’t make it too stiff right away,’ I says, ’an’ who knows but you might get a small stake out of him? ’Tain’t very promisin’,’ I says, ‘but some men is like crooked cattle. There’s more meat on ’em than they looks.’

Well, Jake, he didn’t think there was nothin’ doin’. He looked the stranger over an’ sort o’ turned up his nose, but things was quiet, an’ finally he says: ‘I don’t reckon he’s got fifty dollars in the world, an’ if we win that we’ll only have to chip in an’ send him away. There ain’t the makings of a citizen into him, no way I can figure it, an’ we don’t want him settin’ around for ever. But we might take a shy at it, just to pass the time.’

“So him an’ Sam Blaisdell an’ George Bascom kind o’ got together an’ played a few hands, thinkin’ the stranger might show some interest an’ propose to join the game, but he never stirred. Just sot still an’ chawed his tobacco, like he didn’t give a cuss for nothin’. So finally Bascom he spoke up an’ says: ‘This is pretty slow playin’ three-handed. We’d oughter have somebody else in the game,’ an’ they waited a minute to see if that would catch him, but he never even looked round. So Winterbottom says: ‘Wouldn’t you like to play?’ an’ the stranger he says: ‘Yes,’ just the same absent-minded-like way he’d spoke to the hotel proprietor, an’ he went over an’ sot in. I sold him ten dollars’ o’ chips, an’ they dealt him cards. It were a table stakes game, an’ each man had put up ten.

“The stranger, he talked like a Yankee an’ looked like a Frenchman, but his name on the hotel register was Dennis McCarthy, an’ for all the interest he showed in the cards after he got ’em he might have been a Chinee. He just put up when it come his turn, an’ drawed cards every time, but he never made a bet till his ten was all gone, an’ then he bought ten more as calm an’ collected as a knot-hole in a board fence.

“Well, we played along, if you can call it playing poker, just like that until his third ten-spot was gone, an’ he bought ten more worth o’ chips. Then he caught a hand that seemed to interest him some, for he studied it a long time after Bascom had bet ten on his cards before he said anything. Then he said, ‘I call,’ an’ shoved a ten-dollar bill into the pot. They showed down an’ the stranger had a pair o’ queens. Bascom, he had three sevens, so he raked the pot, o’ course, for Winterbottom an’ Blaisdell had passed out.

“Well, that there McCarthy, if his name was McCarthy, just sat there and called every bet that was made after that for three-quarters of an hour. I never see such a thing before nor since. ’Peared like he’d on’y just found out that he could call, an’ he’d been playin’ along afore that on the idee that all the other feller had to do to win the pot was to make a bet, an’ as if he’d got in his head that callin’ was all he was ’lowed to do under the rules. Whatever his fool notion was, I don’t p’tend to say, but that’s just what he did. Just called every time it come to him.

“Just naturally that looked easy, an’ I will say for the boys that they didn’t try to play it low down on him for a good while. All they did was to wait for a pretty strong hand an’ then bet it for what it was worth an’ wait for a call. As there was three o’ them to one o’ him, they naturally outheld him as a rule, but somehow or other he managed to scoop a pot just about often enough to keep him even. He’d bought twenty-five dollars after he lost his first fifty, so there was over a hundred on the table. The boys wasn’t pushin’ him very hard, so they only bet fives an’ tens, an’ once in awhile he’d show down the best hand an’ scoop a pot. An’ bimeby we was all surprised to see he was gettin’ ahead. Still, ’twa’n’t no game to speak about. They’d all got the idee’t he hadn’t got much of a wad, an’ they was playin’ more for the fun o’ the thing than to do him up.

“Pretty soon Blaisdell he caught a four-flush in a jack-pot an’ the stranger he opened it. Blaisdell stayed an’ the others dropped out. They each drawed one card an’ the stranger he bet ten. Blaisdell looked at his draw an’ found he’d filled a ace flush, so he raised it for his pile, which was thirty dollars, an’ the stranger called. He showed down a full house an’ Blaisdell had to go diggin’.

“Next hand Bascom opened the jack on a pat straight, an’ the stranger he come in an’ drawed one card. The others stayed out an’ Bascom bet his pile, which was twenty odd, an’ the stranger he called an’ showed down a flush, so Bascom was obliged to dig.

“Then ’twas Winterbottom’s turn, as it happened, an’ he opened it on threes. They was playin’ a jack again on account o’ the hands showed, an’ I’m blamed if the same thing didn’t happen. The stranger he come in an’ drawed two cards. Winterbottom bet his pile, havin’ three queens. The other two dropped out an’ the stranger he called an’ showed three kings.

“It looked like a most amazin’ run o’ luck, but the stranger never turned a hair. He did call for the drinks all round, as a sort o’ reco’nition, but he sot as calm as ever, waitin’ for his cards, an’ lookin’ as if he didn’t know what to do with ’em when they come. The others had bought fifty apiece when they come back, so there was money enough on the table to make it worth while, an’ the play got stronger. First, Winterbottom he bet twenty on two pairs an’ the stranger called on one pair. Then Bascom he bet ten on a pair o’ queens an’ the stranger called on ace high. Then Blaisdell bet twenty-five on three jacks, Bascom saw it on aces up, Winterbottom stayed out, havin’ nothin’, an’ the stranger called on a nine-high straight. No matter what he held he wouldn’t raise.

“Blaisdell kind o’ got huffy this time, an’ seein’ the stranger was still pretty well to the good, he began cussin’ a little an’ proposed to take off the limit. The others said they was willin’, an’ they ast McCarthy if he was, an’ he said ‘Yes.’ Blamed if it didn’t ’pear like ‘yes’ was ’most the only word he knowed in the language.

“Well, the bets was heavier after that, an’ the stranger lost what he had in front of him in the next three pots, callin’ on the most ridiculousest hands you ever see, but he stayed right along in for the next deal, so they knowed he must have more money in his clothes. It were his first say, Bascom havin’ the age, an’ he dug out two silver dollars an’ come in, the ante bein’ a dollar. The others stayed, an’ McCarthy drawed three cards. When it come to the bettin’, he bet a dollar, an’ Winterbottom put up fifty, havin’ filled a flush. Blaisdell dropped out an’ Bascom raised it fifty. McCarthy never said a word, but he pulled out his wallet an’ fished up a hundred-dollar bill. Winterbottom raised it fifty an’ Bascom raised it fifty more, an’ the stranger laid down another hundred.

“It looked like his finish there, for sure, for o’ course nobody thought he had much of a hand, an’ the boys thought all they had to do was to keep raisin’. They knowed he’d keep callin’, for he hadn’t done nothin’ else for nigh an hour, an’ all they had to do was to keep up the crisscross an’ whipsaw him out of his pile. ’Twa’n’t certain whether Bascom or Winterbottom would win, but one of ’em was sure to, an’ the money would stay right here.

“Well, they kep’ it up for five minutes, I reckon, till Bascom come to the end of his wad. He on’y had six or seven hundred in his clothes an’ Winterbottom wasn’t much stronger. It didn’t look worth while for Bascom to send for more money, for the stranger’s pocketbook was empty an’ he’d fished out his last hundred from one of his pockets, so Bascom just made good when Winterbottom raised, an’ the stranger got his chance to call, nobody supposin’ that he had more’n perhaps three of a kind, an’ likely not that, he havin’ called on every hand he held whether ’twas good for anything or not.

“It were a fatal mistake, an’ Bascom seen it as soon as he’d done it, for the stranger dug again an’ flashed up a thousand-dollar bill. ’Stead o’ raisin’ Winterbottom, as any other player on earth would ha’ done, he just done his fool act over again an’ called. Then he showed down four deuces an’ scooped in the pot as cool as if ’twas eight dollars instead of a little over two thousand.

“Bascom sort o’ gasped, for he seen what a mistake he’d made, but Winterbottom, he realized that somethin’ had to be did quick, an’ he reached out with one hand for the money. ‘You never got them deuces honest,’ he says, pullin’ his gun, o’ course, as he spoke. He knowed it meant fight, but he wasn’t lookin’ no more than any of us for the kind of a fight that came.

“McCarthy, he was quicker than chain-lightnin’, an’ reachin’ over with one hand he grabbed Winterbottom’s gun while he put the money in his pocket with the other. Then, with a queer sort o’ a twist, he wrenched the gun out o’ Winterbottom’s hand and threw it plumb through the

window. We was all standin’ ready to see that Winterbottom had fair play, not considerin’ it etiquette to interfere unless he should get the worst of it, but, Lord bless you, he hadn’t no show at all. The stranger he just rose out of his chair an’ give a leap like a buckin’ bronco clean over the table. He come down with both heels on Winterbottom’s chest, an’ Winterbottom was out of it. Blaisdell an’ Bascom both drawed on the instant, but ’twa’n’t no use. That stranger was all over the room at once, swattin’ Bascom behind the ear with his fist an’ kickin’ Blaisdell under the chin at the same time. I didn’t think it was worth while to take a hand myself, seein’ how things was goin’, an’ bein’ some in years, so I stepped behind the bar an’ waited.

“Well, them three men tried for a minit or so to get up, but they couldn’t. McCarthy was on top o’ the whole of ’em as fast as they moved, an’ he had ’em all whipped in less time than it takes to tell it. I heerd afterward that he’d lived in Paris some, an’ had learned some outrageous foreign way o’ boxin’ with his feet that no Christian c’d ever stand up against. They all give in after a little, an’ I didn’t blame ’em, havin’ seen for myself what the stranger c’d do.

“Well, that was the end of it. The stranger he walked out after the scrimmage was over, lookin’ as cool as ever. He looked back when he got to the door an’ says, ‘Good night. See you again.’ But we never did. He left town the next mornin’ on an early boat. I’ve often thought, though, that it were a merciful dispensation that he didn’t know enough poker to raise instead o’ callin’.”

XVII

AN EXTRA ACE

“Speakin’ by an’ large,” said old man Greenhut, as he bit off the end of a fresh cigar and settled himself in his favourite seat at the window, “there ain’t no question but what the game o’ draw-poker is about as nigh perfect as anything that was ever devised by the mind o’ man, an’ developed by the constant study o’ countless generations. They say there ain’t no record o’ poker bein’ played in former ages, an’ that faro was played hundreds of thousands of years ago, when a feller named Faro was King of Egypt, but it stands to reason there ain’t no truth in that. Like enough faro is a old game. I ain’t a-sayin’ nothin’ against faro. It suits them that likes it, but it’s gamblin’, an’ naturally it belongs to the heathen that started it.

“But poker’s teetotally different. No such system as that of draw-poker ever growed up in a night like Jonah’s gourd, nor it wa’n’t put together by no single set o’ fellers. Stands to reason it’s the crownin’ development of all the civilization the world ever seen. An’ it don’t seem likely, now that the straight an’ the straight flush has been discovered, an’ universally recognized, that there’s ever goin’ to be no changes into the game. It’s perfect as it is, an’ there ain’t no chanst o’ makin’ it any more perfect.

“An’ yet there is times when even the best players is obliged to rely on outside influences to help ’em out o’ some great emergency o’ the game. That ain’t no fault o’ the game, for as I said, the game is all right, but it goes to show that a man as relies on on’y one thing is goin’ to get left when he stacks up against some feller that relies on the same thing an’ has something else up his sleeve besides. An’ that there somethin’ else is got to be more’n a knowledge o’ cards.

“O’ course if a man reely understands the game as he’d oughter, an’ can handle the cards so’s to give himself what he needs in the draw when it comes to a desprit struggle between him an’ the other feller, an’ can read the backs o’ the cards well enough to have a good general idee o’ what the other feller is holdin’, why he can worry along under ordinary circumstances so’s he can hold his own most o’ the time, an’ make enough over from time to time to pay his livin’ expenses. But that’s all a part o’ draw-poker, same as it’s a part o’ the game not to be found out when you’re obliged to change the natural order o’ the cards. There is folks that has prejudices against them things, an’ if a man is clumsy enough to get found out, why, o’ course he’s goin’ to get hisself in more or less trouble, but I maintain so long as they’re done slick enough to not be seen, they are as legitimate as anything else in draw-poker. That’s the way Arkansas City has come to have the reputation it has. There’s some o’ the slickest players on the river right there in that town, an’ nobody has ever caught ’em usin’ marked cards, or holdin’ out, or dealin’ out o’ the middle or off’n the bottom of the deck.

“But what I mean about outside influences is entirely different. There comes a time, sometimes, when a man is obliged to think quick an’ act quick in order to keep some unscrupulous stranger from sweepin’ away all his hard-earned winnin’s in one fell pot. At such times even a thorough knowledge o’ poker ain’t a goin’ to save a man thouten he’s quick enough to think an’ has sand enough to act on the instant.

“There was an instance o’ that in Arkansas City the time when Hank Fairfax an’ his side-partner, Billy Overton, come up here from Vicksburg to do up the town, an’ come so near doin’ it. It were a great night, an’ on’y for Sam Pearsall’s presence o’ mind an’ prompt action I reckon we’d ha’ lost prestige right then an’ there.

“There couldn’t no one find fault with Hank an’ his partner, for they come in like men an’ said, open an’ above board, just what they’d come for. Hank put it kind o’ brutal, but he was fair an’ square about it. He said: ‘We Vicksburg sports is plumb tired hearin’ about Arkansas City poker, an’ Billy an’ I has come to give you jays a few lessons on how the game reely ought to be played. If any of you has the sand to play up against the real thing, now’s your time, but this ain’t no crossroads proposition. We are out for the stuff an’ we propose to carry it back with us.’

“Well, you know there ain’t nobody from nowhere that can let out a yawp like that in Arkansas City without bein’ took up sudden. ’Twa’n’t eight minutes by the clock after he’d peeped, afore him an’ Billy an’ Sam Pearsall an’ Jake Winterbottom an’ Joe Bassett was sittin’ ’round the table countin’ out their chips. They each put up a thousand an’ made it a table stakes game. ‘We didn’t come here to play old maid,’ said Billy, when somebody asked what the game should be. ‘Let’s have somethin’ worth playin’ for,’ he says, an’ they was all agreed.

“Well, just naturally they all played right up under their collar buttons at first, bein’ anxious to get on to one another’s play. There hadn’t none of our boys even played with Fairfax, but they all knowed him by reputation as one o’ the slickest players in Mississippi, an’ they wa’n’t takin’ no chances on his deal. Overton we didn’t none of us know much about, ’ceptin’ he had the name o’ bein’ a cool hand in a quarrel and a bad man in a fight. We knowed he played poker, course, just as everybody does, but we hadn’t heard o’ his bein’ counted no crack player, such as Hank would be sure to have with him, an’ we was a little slow, too, about sizin’ him up, not knowin’ what his particular graft might be.

“Bein’ for them reasons a trifle more cautious than usual, the boys, as I said, was slow about startin’ in, an’ any way the cards ran small for awhile, but all of a sudden there was somethin’ doin’ on Winterbottom’s deal. It was a jack-pot with thirty dollars in it, an’ Hank havin’ first say, opened it for thirty. Pearsall, he came next an’ he come in. Bassett was the next player an’ he raised it thirty. Overton made it thirty more and Winterbottom h’isted it fifty. Fairfax raised it a hundred an’ Pearsall says: ‘I didn’t want to raise it the first time round for fear o’ scarin’ some of ye out, but as long as I’ve got you all hooked,’ he says, ‘it’ll cost ye two hundred more to draw cards.’

“Just naturally I was lookin’ for some of ’em to drop out after that kind o’ play, but every one of ’em stayed. There wa’n’t no more raisin’ done. I reckon they all thought four hundred an’ forty dollars apiece was enough to put up before the draw, which sure it was in a game o’ that size.

“When it come to the draw there was another surprise. Every man at the table stood pat. Well, just naturally it were pretty thin ice to dance on, an’ nobody seemed to know for a minute or two just how to bet, havin’ nothin’ to guide him but his own hand and the fact that there was four pat hands out against it.

“Fairfax, o’ course, knowed just what to do. He put up a white chip. There was no doubt about his havin’ a chance to play later, an’ he were easy. Pearsall studied a bit, but finally he decided to wait, too, havin’ declared hisself before the draw, so he chipped along. Bassett wasn’t raisin’, neither, for he knowed Pearsall’s play pretty well, an’ havin’ only a small flush he didn’t feel strong, so he chipped along.

“That brought it up to Overton again, an’ he, thinkin’, I reckon, that it was up to him to help Fairfax along whether his own hand was good or not, put up a hundred dollars. It were a queer bet, but I sized it up for the beginnin’ of a seesaw in case Fairfax should want one. That might not ha’ been what was in his mind, but I reckon ’twa’n’t far out o’ the way.

“Winterbottom seen the raise. He were lookin’ for more developments, an’ he wa’n’t ready to play his hand very strong till he found out what was doin’. It were extra cautious play all round, with the advantage lyin’ between Fairfax an’ Pearsall, but mostly on Pearsall’s side.

“Fairfax put up two hundred an’ I seen he were ready for a seesaw. I don’t know what might ha’ happened if there’d been more money on the table, but Pearsall saw his opportunity an’ grabbed it. He counted his chips an’ findin’ six hundred in front of him, threw it all in the pot.

“Bassett throwed down his flush like a man, an’ Overton called for a show for his pile, which wa’n’t quite big enough for a call. That put it up to Winterbottom, an’ he skinned his hand over again, thinkin’ mighty hard. He had a full hand an’ money enough to raise. An’ more than that, he’d dealt the cards hisself, so he wa’n’t worried none on that account, but finally he just made good. He said to me afterward, ‘I would ha’ raised,’ he says, ‘but I reckoned Fairfax was goin’ to raise again, an’ the others was all in, so I gave him the chance.’

“But Fairfax was as rattled as the rest of ’em was, an’ he only called. Then it come out that there was two flushes an’ two fulls in the game, not reckonin’ the flush that Bassett had throwed down. Winterbottom’s flush beat Overton’s, bein’ ace high, an’ Pearsall’s ace full o’ course beat Fairfax’s jack full.

“It were a body blow for fair. Fairfax an’ Overton seen they’d overplayed their hands, an’ they was sore enough to make a beef about it, on’y they knowed it were too late. There wa’n’t nothin’ to say, ’thouten they’d kicked on Jake’s dealin’, an’ they couldn’t do that after they’d played the hand an’ lost. The on’y thing they c’d do was to quit or put up again. They wa’n’t quittin’, so they put up another thousand apiece an’ played along. Bassett had chips left an’ Pearsall was on velvet.

“There wa’n’t no heavy play again right away, but luck run to the Vicksburg fellers for awhile, so’s’t they picked up a few hundred in the next half-hour, mostly on pots they raked in without a call. Our boys was playin’ as careful as they was an’ was layin’ for a chanst at ’em.

“Bimeby then comes a hand where Fairfax an’ Bassett did some crisscross business. Bassett had been playin’ close f’m the first, an’ he had pretty near all o’ his original wad left, spite o’ what he’d lost on that flush, so when he caught three deuces on Pearsall’s deal an’ it were a jack-pot that had been pretty well fattened, he just opened it for fifty without much fear o’ the consequences. All the others laid down except Fairfax, an’ he come in on a pair of aces. He took three cards, but Bassett only drawed one. ’Twa’n’t extry good play, for his threes wa’n’t big enough to play ’em very strong ’thouten he was goin’ to bluff, an’ he might better ha’ drawed two cards, relyin’ on Fairfax thinkin’ his threes was bigger’n they was, but luck was with him in the draw ’n’ he catched the other deuce.

“Just naturally he felt good, an’ thinkin’ mebbe Fairfax might ha’ bettered an’ might raise, he throwed in a chip.

“Fairfax fumbled his cards a minute afore he picked ’em up. I don’t know whether he were a-studyin’ or whether it were a accident, but everybody noticed it, an’ it were lucky they did, as things turned out. But when he did pick up his hands he smiled a bit an’ throwed two fifty in the pot.

“That were just what Bassett were looking for, an’ he shoved all his chips to the centre o’ the table without countin’ ’em. O’ course Fairfax couldn’t raise no more; but he counted up, an’ findin’ it took six hundred to call, he called.

“Bassett showed down his four deuces an’ says: ‘I reckon that’s good,’ an’ he reached for the pot, but Fairfax says, ‘Hold on. That’s a pretty good hand, but aces’ll beat it if you have enough of ’em,’ and he showed down four aces.

“Right there was when Sam Pearsall showed his resources. O’ course, so fur as poker goes, that is, so fur as the reglar game goes, Fairfax won the pot all right, but, as I was sayin’, there is things outside o’ the reglar game that a man can rely on in a emergency if he’s quick to think an’ quick to act, an’ Sam were always as quick as a cat.

“I don’t know how it happened that Sam had a ace o’ diamonds hid away somewheres, but they’d changed the deck several times, an’ I reckon he must ha’ thought it might come in handy to figger on, or somethin’ o’ that sort. Anyway, he had it, an’ it were the same pattern back as the deck they was playin’ with. So he speaks up quick. ‘Hold on you,’ he says. ‘There’s somethin’ wrong here. I discarded the ace o’ diamonds,’ he says, an’ reachin’ over quick, he turns the discard pile face up, an’ spreadin’ out the cards, sure enough there were the ace.

“O’ course that queered Fairfax’s hand right away. They counted the cards, an’ sure enough there were fifty-three cards in the deck. Just naturally Fairfax an’ Overton smelled a mice, an’ they called on me to bring back the cards I’d gathered up every time they’d called for a new deck, an’ I did it.

“They picked out the deck o’ the same pattern they was usin’ an’ counted that, an’ just naturally they found fifty-one cards in it, but no ace o’ diamonds. It was clear enough where the card had come from, but the question was how it come where it was, an’ there was no way o’ tellin’ whether the missin’ card was the one that Fairfax held in his hand, or whether it was the one that Pearsall had showed in the discard pile.

“There wa’n’t much said. Everybody remembered how Fairfax had fumbled his cards, but nobody cared to say nothin’ about it, for there wa’n’t no use o’ havin’ to fight with a man like Fairfax when Overton was along, specially as the pot had to be divided anyhow. It were a foul deck beyond a question, and there wa’n’t no dispute when Bassett took back his chips.

“Fairfax were mad clear through, though. He didn’t say much, but he got up an’ reckoned he didn’t care to play no more in a game where four aces wa’n’t good. It wa’n’t really what one would have expected from a dead game sport such as he had the name o’ bein’, but we had the satisfaction o’ seein’ him an’ Overton go back to Vicksburg without makin’ their bluff good, even if they didn’t leave their money behind ’em.

“Which goes to show, as I said, that there is times when a man has to rely on outside influences even in playin’ poker.”

XVIII

PLAYED BY THE BOOK

“Mostly such folks is born fools an’ don’t know no more about things in general than a hound pup in the wilderness knows about the plan o’ salvation, but you couldn’t make one o’ ’em realize what a fool he is if you was to cut his head open an’ try to squirt sense into it. What’s this the Good Book says? It’s somethin’ about if you pound a fool up in a mortar and shoot him out with the bombshells, yet will not his folly depart from him.

“There hain’t nothin’, as I said, but what critters like them will try to put right accordin’ to their own notions, an’ the result, so far as I’ve ever seed it, is tol’able certain to be a mixup of the worst sort. An’ when they gets into a game o’ poker there’s more bad blood stirred up in a hour than good, steady play for six months’d be likely to bring up. Sometimes it’s on’y nasty words, an’ sometimes it’s a gun-play. But when such a critter gets hold o’ one o’ these here poker manuals such as I seed the other day that’s just been published in the East, an’ undertakes to make a civilized community swaller his raw notions just because some feller that never played poker on the Mississippi has had ’em printed in a book, he can just about cover the underside o’ the sky with cobwebs o’ perplexity spun out o’ the brains o’ good men that gets bewildered listenin’ to ’em.

“The way I come to see this here book I’m tellin’ about was through a little game that the boys got up last week to oblige a travellin’ Easterner that stopped over for a few days to look at some plantations up the river a bit, that was offered to a British syndicate at a figger that wouldn’t ha’ paid more’n 100 per cent. profit to the owners if the deal had went through. They said this here Wanderin’ Willie boy was some sort of a big-bug in business matters when he was to home, an’ he was travellin’ in cogs, whatever them is. Anyway, he didn’t want nobody to know who he was, an’ he was called Mr. Hapgood when he was travellin’, an’ the keeper that had him in charge treated him as if he was made o’ glass. Hapgood called him his valet, an’ ordered him round like he was a hired man, an’ the keeper never made no fuss at all about it.

“Hapgood was pokin’ round town ask-in’ all sorts o’ questions of everybody, an’ some o’ the boys referred him to me for general information, so he come in that evenin’ an’ chinned with me for half an hour. He bought liquor for the house two or three times, an’ somehow or another there was quite a crowd in here after the first round. I seen there was some o’ the crack players in the place, an’ it kind o’ reminded me o’ the popularity o’ the game here, so when Hapgood ast me, as he did, what the leadin’ industries o’ Arkansas City was, I mentioned draw-poker among ’em. He kind o’ laughed as if I’d said somethin’ funny, an’ said he hadn’t been in the habit o’ thinkin’ of it as a industry, but he’d given considerable study to the game an’ had come to the conclusion that it was just about the real thing. I ast him if he played it much an’ he said no, not exactly, but him an’ four or five o’ his friends had got hold o’ this here manual, as he called it, an’ had practised quite a lot, so’s’t he considered himself a first-class player.

“Well, just naturally I gave him to understand that we had some players in town that we thought was able to hold up their end against any ordinary player, an’ that they would consider it a privilege to make up a game most any time if they could get a first-class player to give them points. They was always anxious to learn, I said, an’ if he would like to get the benefit of a little practice, I thought they would arrange it so’s’t he could have the opportunity.

“You’d ha’ thought he was a bullfrog jumpin’ for a piece o’ red flannel if you’d ha’ seen how quick he took it up. He was more than ready, an’ the boys seein’ how eager he was kind o’ hung back to be coaxed, but old Jake Winterbottom, he pleaded with ’em till he got Jim Blaisdell an’ Sam Pearsall an’ Joe Bassett to set in with him an’ make a five-handed game.

“They set down at the table as they was in the habit of doin’, just takin’ any old place that happened, an’ Hapgood he says, kind o’ surprised, ‘We’ll have to cut for choice o’ seats, won’t we?’

“The boys was more surprised than he was, and Winterbottom, he says, ‘I don’t see no objection to that, but if anybody has any choice o’ seats he can have it as fur as I’m concerned. I don’t see no use o’ cuttin’.’

“ ‘Well,’ says Hapgood, ‘the rules says we must cut for choice. You’re goin’ to play accordin’ to the rules, ain’t you? As I understand it, poker ought to be played strict under the rules.’

“ ‘You’re dead right on that, stranger,’ says Joe Bassett, givin’ Winterbottom a kick in the shins under the table. ‘You can bet this game is goin’ to be played accordin’ to rules if I’m in it. An’ it won’t be healthy for the man that breaks the rules.’

“So they cuts for choice o’ seats, and Pearsall cut low. That give him the choice o’ seats, and he said he’d set where he was. Winterbottom was next lowest man an’ he said he’d set where he was, too. He was suited well enough. But Hapgood, he spoke up again an’ he says that won’t do. The second lowest man must set next on the left o’ the low man, an’ the third lowest next on his left, an’ so on.

“Winterbottom started in to cuss a little, not because he cared a cuss, but just because he was surprised, but he got another kick in the shins, an’ takin’ a sudden tumble to hisself, he jumped up an’ took his proper seat. When they’d all got seated again Joe Bassett ast in a general sort o’ way what good all that did, an’ Hapgood says, ‘Why, that’s one o’ the laws in the International Code. You have to do it before you play or else the game wouldn’t be regular.’

“ ‘That’s right,’ says Joe Bassett. ‘We must play by the rules, but, stranger, we ain’t exactly posted on this here International Code. We play the old Mississippi River rules, the Mississippi River bein’ the place where the game was born an’ growed up. If there’s a International Code we’d like to know about it, an’ if you’ll tell us all about it as we play, we’d think it monstrous kind o’ you.’

“Well, Hapgood says he’ll do it with pleasure, ’n’ he spoke to his keeper an’ tells him to go over to the hotel an’ get the manual out of his portmanteau. ‘The code is in that,’ he says. So the keeper he starts, an’ the boys cut for deal accordin’ to custom, an’ Jake gets it. He shuffles an’ offers the deck to Pearsall, who sits on his right, to cut, but Hapgood speaks up an’ says that ain’t right. ‘The ante man is the man that cuts the cards,’ he says. ‘I don’t know as it makes any great difference,’ he says, ‘who cuts ’em, but that’s what the book says.’

“Winterbottom, he’s gettin’ a little bit old, an’ he’s kind o’ sot in his ways, an’ I c’d see that he was gettin’ sort o’ rattled, but before he c’d say anything, Bassett, he spoke up again. ‘It don’t really make no difference, I reckon,’ he says, ‘but if the book says that the ante man must cut, why, he’s goin’ to cut. On’y you see, stranger, we hain’t familiar with that book an’ we been in the habit o’ lettin’ the feller on the dealer’s right cut the cards. It’s on’y our ignorance, you know. We’re willin’ to learn better.’ An’ he, bein’ the age himself, reaches over and cuts the cards.

“Jake, he kind o’ shakes his head a little, but he don’t say nothin’ an’ he starts to deal, but Hapgood he speaks up again. ‘Before we start,’ he says, ‘we must have it understood whether we are going to play any of the variations in the game. We play straights, don’t we, and straight flushes?’

“ ‘Oh, yes,’ says Bassett.

“ ‘And straights beat three of a kind, don’t they?’

“ ‘Well, yes,’ says Bassett, ‘they commonly do, when you get ’em.’

“ ‘And blazers, do we play them, and jumpers? And do we play with a joker?’

“Bassett was puzzled for a moment, an’ before he could get started Winterbottom busted loose. ‘No!’ he hollered, just like he were mad. ‘No, we don’t play with a joker, nor big an’ little casino, nor right and left bower, nor his nobs, nor his heels. We play draw-poker. An’ we don’t play blazers nor jumpers, because we don’t know what they are and we don’t care a darn. We wouldn’t play them if we did know.’

“ ‘Well, well,’ says Hapgood, ‘that’s all right. I only asked because they’re in the book, and we have to know, you know, before we play, you know.’

“ ‘Well, we know,’ growled Jake and he started to deal again. While he was dealing Bassett put up his ante an’ Hapgood, who set next, he says, ‘I straddle,’ an’ throws in two chips. That makes it four to play, an’ Blaisdell he throws down his cards. Pearsall comes in an’ so does Winterbottom. Bassett makes good an’ Hapgood raises it eight. They was playin’ table stakes.

“Pearsall, havin’ next say, he says, ‘I raise you eight,’ an’ shoves up his chips.

“ ‘Oh!’ says Hapgood, speakin’ up quick. ‘Then you don’t play the doublin’ game?’

“ ‘What in thunder is the doublin’ game?’ says Pearsall.

“ ‘Why you can’t raise less than double what the last bet was,’ says Hapgood.

“ ‘Is that in the book?’ asked Bassett, sudden like.

“ ‘Yes,’ says Hapgood.

“ ‘Then we play it,’ says Bassett very determined.

“ ‘Well,’ says Pearsall, ‘I raise you sixteen chips.’

“Winterbottom he studies for a minute an’ he says, ‘I’ll come in,’ but he says it kind o’ slow.

“It were Bassett’s turn next, an’ he says, ‘I raise it thirty-two chips.’

“Things was gettin’ interestin’ about then. It were quick poker even for Arkansas City, an’ I looked to see some layin’ down, but they all had pretty good cards as it happened an’ they all made good. In the draw Bassett took one card, Hapgood took two, Pearsall stood pat, an’ Winterbottom took two.

“Then they all waited for a minute or so, an’ finally Winterbottom says to Hapgood, ‘It’s your bet.’

“ ‘Oh, no,’ says Hapgood, ‘it isn’t my bet, I straddled.’

“ ‘Well, what in blue blazes has that got to do with it?’ says Pearsall.

“ ‘Why, if I straddled I get the age,’ says Hapgood, an’ the boys was struck dumb for a minute or so.

“Finally, Bassett he caught his breath, an’ he says, ‘Is that in the book?’

“ ‘Why, certainly,’ says Hapgood, an’ just then his keeper come in with the book in his hand. It was a monstrous pretty little red book, too, with a fancy cover an’ gilt edges on the leaves.

“Well, Bassett he were gettin’ sort o’ weak by this time, but he managed to say, ‘I ain’t doubtin’ your word, stranger, but this here is kind o’ strong liquor for us. We ain’t used to it. Don’t you think you’re mistaken? Do you think that any man that knowed enough about poker to write a book about it would put that in?’

“ ‘Well, it’s right here,’ says Hapgood, opening the book. ‘It’s law 44 in the International Code. You’ll see it on page 100. It says: “The straddle transfers the age from the ante man to the straddler,” ’ and he read it and showed it.

“The boys looked at one another for a little, as if nobody could say anything, an’ I reckon they couldn’t right away, but finally Bassett he spoke up, an’ he says: ‘We’ve started to play this here game accordin’ to the rules, an’ I reckon we’d better see it through for one deal, anyhow. Pearsall, it’s your bet.’

“Pearsall he looked kind o’ faint, but he throwed in a chip, an’ Winterbottom seed it, an’ Bassett he come in, an’ Hapgood he raised it ten. Then the boys seen their duty, an’ they done it for fair. The chips was a dollar, an’ Pearsall he raised it twenty, an’ Winterbottom he raised it forty, an’ Bassett he raised it eighty, makin’ about half a million dollars on the table. Hapgood he throwed down his cards, an’ Pearsall an’ Winterbottom did likewise, so nobody found out what anybody had.

“The next deal was about the same story, on’y they all come in, an’ after they’d coaxed Hapgood along till he’d put up a fair-sized stake, they doubled upon him four times instead of three, an’ he throwed down again.

“That brought it up to Hapgood’s deal, an’ I reckon he must ha’ been a little rattled, seein’ how he wa’n’t likely to get much of a show, for instead o’ dealin’ cards to all five players he on’y dealt out four hands. O’ course, they all seen what he was doin’, but they kind o’ watched him to see if it wa’n’t some new sort of a trick out o’ that book o’ his’n, an’ when he finished nobody moved to pick up his cards. An’ still Hapgood didn’t seem to notice nothin’ out o’ the way, so Bassett spoke up very mild an’ subdued like, ‘Ain’t that a misdeal, stranger? You haven’t dealt Winterbottom any cards. He’s in the game, ain’t he?’

“Then Hapgood seen what he’d done an’ picked up the deck again. ‘Oh, no,’ he says, ‘it ain’t a misdeal. I’ll give him a hand,’ and he dealt him one card off the top of the deck, another off the bottom, the next off the top, the next off the bottom, and the next and last off the top.

“Then Winterbottom turned to me an’ says: ‘Greenhut, I wish you’d bring me a drink o’ red liquor. I think I’m going to faint.’ I brought it to him quick, for he did look pale, an’ he ain’t as young as he was. After he’d swallowed it he says to Hapgood: ‘What in blue blazes is that sort o’ monkey business you was just puttin’ up? Is there anything in that extraordinary thing you call a book that says for you to do a thing like that?’

“ ‘Why, certainly,’ says Hapgood. ‘You’ll find it in law 34 of the International Code, on page 98. “If too few hands have been dealt or a player has been omitted, the dealer shall supply the omission by dealing the necessary number of cards alternately from the top and bottom of the pack.” There it is. You can read it for yourself.’

“And he handed the book to Jake. Jake took it and looked at it curiously while the rest of us looked over his shoulders. The rule was there and so were the other things he told us about. And the book was published by some firm in London and another firm in New York. It looked like a sure enough book. It even had the author’s name printed as Templar. I was almost stunned. I couldn’t think of anything to say. Neither could the rest of the boys for a few minutes, but finally Jake handed the book back to Hapgood an’ he says, mighty serious like, ‘I don’t find no fault with you, stranger. You mean well, an’ I don’t reckon you’re the man that wrote this book, but I want to give you a little good advice. If you’re thinkin’ o’ playin’ poker much while you’re in the country, an’ think o’ takin’ that book along with you, the best thing you can do is to take out an all-fired big policy o’ life insurance. Your heirs, if you have any, is liable to get rich monstrous sudden that way. As for me, I think I’ll cash in. I’m open to play draw-poker at any time, but this here game is too rich for my blood.’

“An’ that broke up the game. I don’t know whether they really do play any such poker as that book tells about in the East, but ’tain’t never likely to be played in this country. It does beat all how some folks can get things printed, but I remember hearing it said once that it stood to reason that nobody would ever write a book on how to play poker if he knowed, ’cause if he knowed he’d play enough not to need to write for a livin’.”