came up with the two of spades. Once more Calvin shuffled and I picked. I tried over and over again, but no matter how close I watched him shuffle those cards, I never once picked the ace of hearts. After seven tries, I gave up.
"You're just too good," I muttered. "I can't beat you."
Calvin smiled and sat back. "That's correct, Eli. You can't beat me. No one can. Let me demonstrate."
Shuffling slowly, he showed me how he used those quick fingers of his to substitute a second jack of diamonds for the ace of hearts. By the time he told me to pick a card, he'd tucked the ace up his sleeve. No wonder I never won.
"Where did you learn such a dirty way of cheating?" I asked him.
Calvin frowned as if he didn't care for my choice of words. "It's a game my father taught me."
"Why, you told me your daddy was a man among men, the best cardplayer ever, better even than Doc Holliday," I said, too disgusted to watch my tongue. "It appears to me Mr. Calvin Thaddeus Featherbone, Senior, was nothing but a common low-down cardsharp. No wonder he got himself shot!"
Calvin's face flushed. For a moment I thought he was going to explode like a stick of dynamite, but instead he took a deep breath and said, "Confound it, Eli, don't climb on that high horse of yours. I need you to play a small part in the game."
I shoved my chair back and got to my feet. "Oh no, not me," I said. "I don't aim to get myself shot by some old coot like Roscoe Suggs."
Calvin leaped up and caught me. "Listen here, Elijah Bates. People who gamble are greedy fools. They don't deserve your sympathy."
Keeping hold of me, he dragged me outside. In a kindlier voice, he said, "We'll make money fast playing three-card monte. That means we'll arrive in Tinville sooner."
I quit struggling then and let Calvin lead me down the street. Much as I disliked the idea of cheating, I wanted to get to Tinville as quickly as possible. And that rascal knew it.
"All you have to do is stand in the back of the crowd and watch," Calvin said as sweet as honey. "After three or four players lose, people are bound to accuse me of cheating. When they do, push your way to the front and ask to play. I'll say no, you're too young, but you insist. Eventually I'll give up and take your money."
He paused and grinned at me. "I'll make sure you pick the ace of hearts, Eli. When the crowd sees you win, they'll clamor to play."
Without returning Calvin's jaw-stretching grin, I nodded glumly and trudged along beside him. As far as schemes go, I suppose it could have been worse. At least it didn't sound like I'd get shot.
11
C ALVIN'S NEW SCHEME STARTED OUT FAIRLY well. He found an old wooden box, set it on end near one of the busier saloons, and positioned himself behind it. He'd washed up on the train and slicked his hair back and dusted off his shirt and trousers as well as he could, but any fool could tell he was down on his luck. I supposed his looks might help. Who would expect a young man as pale and handsome as curly-headed Calvin Featherbone to be a cheating, lying rascal?
While Caesar and I hung around in the background, trying to look inconspicuous, Calvin drew a crowd with a spiel that went like this. Holding up three cards, he fanned them this way and that to attract attention.
"Gentlemen," he called out, "you see before you a poor young man desperately in need of money. I hold my heart in my hand, sirs." With that, he waved
the ace of hearts. "Take a chance and see if you can draw my heart from a pile of three. Keep close watch now."
Throwing the cards face down, Calvin shuffled them with those agile fingers of his. "Here's the heart," he cried, slipping it in and out of the cards so fast my eyes were dazzled. "Now here. Now there. Now where?"
He paused and smiled at the growing mob of bearded miners, Chinese railroad workers, and travelers between trains like us. I expected one of them to holler, "It's up your sleeve, you lying little cheat," but no one said a word.
"You win if
"You're just too good," I muttered. "I can't beat you."
Calvin smiled and sat back. "That's correct, Eli. You can't beat me. No one can. Let me demonstrate."
Shuffling slowly, he showed me how he used those quick fingers of his to substitute a second jack of diamonds for the ace of hearts. By the time he told me to pick a card, he'd tucked the ace up his sleeve. No wonder I never won.
"Where did you learn such a dirty way of cheating?" I asked him.
Calvin frowned as if he didn't care for my choice of words. "It's a game my father taught me."
"Why, you told me your daddy was a man among men, the best cardplayer ever, better even than Doc Holliday," I said, too disgusted to watch my tongue. "It appears to me Mr. Calvin Thaddeus Featherbone, Senior, was nothing but a common low-down cardsharp. No wonder he got himself shot!"
Calvin's face flushed. For a moment I thought he was going to explode like a stick of dynamite, but instead he took a deep breath and said, "Confound it, Eli, don't climb on that high horse of yours. I need you to play a small part in the game."
I shoved my chair back and got to my feet. "Oh no, not me," I said. "I don't aim to get myself shot by some old coot like Roscoe Suggs."
Calvin leaped up and caught me. "Listen here, Elijah Bates. People who gamble are greedy fools. They don't deserve your sympathy."
Keeping hold of me, he dragged me outside. In a kindlier voice, he said, "We'll make money fast playing three-card monte. That means we'll arrive in Tinville sooner."
I quit struggling then and let Calvin lead me down the street. Much as I disliked the idea of cheating, I wanted to get to Tinville as quickly as possible. And that rascal knew it.
"All you have to do is stand in the back of the crowd and watch," Calvin said as sweet as honey. "After three or four players lose, people are bound to accuse me of cheating. When they do, push your way to the front and ask to play. I'll say no, you're too young, but you insist. Eventually I'll give up and take your money."
He paused and grinned at me. "I'll make sure you pick the ace of hearts, Eli. When the crowd sees you win, they'll clamor to play."
Without returning Calvin's jaw-stretching grin, I nodded glumly and trudged along beside him. As far as schemes go, I suppose it could have been worse. At least it didn't sound like I'd get shot.
11
C ALVIN'S NEW SCHEME STARTED OUT FAIRLY well. He found an old wooden box, set it on end near one of the busier saloons, and positioned himself behind it. He'd washed up on the train and slicked his hair back and dusted off his shirt and trousers as well as he could, but any fool could tell he was down on his luck. I supposed his looks might help. Who would expect a young man as pale and handsome as curly-headed Calvin Featherbone to be a cheating, lying rascal?
While Caesar and I hung around in the background, trying to look inconspicuous, Calvin drew a crowd with a spiel that went like this. Holding up three cards, he fanned them this way and that to attract attention.
"Gentlemen," he called out, "you see before you a poor young man desperately in need of money. I hold my heart in my hand, sirs." With that, he waved
the ace of hearts. "Take a chance and see if you can draw my heart from a pile of three. Keep close watch now."
Throwing the cards face down, Calvin shuffled them with those agile fingers of his. "Here's the heart," he cried, slipping it in and out of the cards so fast my eyes were dazzled. "Now here. Now there. Now where?"
He paused and smiled at the growing mob of bearded miners, Chinese railroad workers, and travelers between trains like us. I expected one of them to holler, "It's up your sleeve, you lying little cheat," but no one said a word.
"You win if
Similar Books
