moved to the table to eat and have a drink. Butler limited himself to one beer. He noticed Charlie Coe and Dick Clark had two whiskeys each and then a beer. Three-Eyed Jack had three beers. Al Newman drank half a beer, apparently just to wash down the food.
“How long do these games go on?” Newman asked, during the break.
“I can’t tell you,” Butler said. “Sometimes hours, sometimes days. When I sat down here yesterday I had no idea it would go this long.”
“By the way, thanks for getting me in the game,” Newman said. “I know it was you who spoke to Luke on my behalf.”
“Hey, we were down to four-handed. Everybody just wanted another body.”
“Forget it,” Butler said. “I’m going to do my best to take all your money.”
“Thanks for the warning. But tell me, if I hadn’t called you on that hand, would you have shown it?”
“I never show my hand for free,” Butler said. “Somebody’s got to pay.”
“You know,” Newman said, “I used to think I was a good poker player, but I’m learning a lot here.”
“Good,” Butler said, “just don’t use too much of what you’ve learned on me.”
The game went on into the night, with Luke Short stopping in to see how everyone was doing. Butler thought Short was not only surprised to see that Al Newman was still in the game, but that he was flourishing. Three-Eyed Jack, who’d had the hot hand for so long, until Butler joined the game, and then Newman, finally had his luck take a turn for the worse. Charlie Coe and Dick Clark were playing pretty even, and Butler had the feeling they were almost done. Treading water for a few days was not worth the effort.
Butler was well ahead, and Al Newman was winning
Just as Butler predicted, around three A.M. Charlie Coe announced that he was finished.
“This is ridiculous,” he said. “After the better part of three days I’m even. Time for me to move on. Gents, it’s been a pleasure.”
He stood up, shook hands with everybody, and took his leave.
“So are we playin’ four-handed?” Dick Clark asked, looking around the table.
“Sure, why not?” Jack said. “I’m game.”
“Although if I don’t start winning some pots soon, I’m going to have to call it quits, too,” Clark said. “I know how Charlie feels. After all this time I’m close to even, too. It’s not a good feelin’.”
As it turned out there had been several other players in and out of the game before Butler joined in who had donated their money to the cause. There were virtually no losers at the table at the moment—although Three-Eyed Jack had given back quite a bit of what he’d won the first two days.
“Okay,” Jack said, “we’re four-handed. The game is five-card stud.”
CHAPTER 11
By seven A.M. Dick Clark was ready to quit, Jack had fallen into a hole. Al Newman was ahead, and Butler was the big winner. With players moving in and out of the game there had been eleven overall. With a three thousand dollar buy-in that put better than thirty-three thousand dollars in play—depending on how many players had bought in for more than that—and Butler had more than half of that.
“You were bad luck for me, Butler,” Three-Eyed Jack said good-naturedly. “My luck went south when you sat down.”
“Ever think I just outplayed you, Jack?” Butler asked. “Or that you were too hot for too long and just burned out?”
Jack thought for a moment, and then said, “I don’t like either one of those. I prefer to think you were bad luck for me.”
They all began taking their jackets off the back of their chairs, tucking money away in their wallets, buttoning their shirts.
“I need a long bath,” Butler said.
“I think we all do,” Dick Clark said. “Where are you stayin’?”
“Up the street,” Butler said. “A place called the Wisteria, whatever that means.”
“I think it’s a plant,” Al Newman said. “It’s also a very good hotel.”
“Somebody’s got to let Luke know we’re done,” Clark said. “He’ll want to lock this room.”
“I’ll find him,” Butler said. “I want to thank him for bringing me into a game with such easy pickings.”
“You’re not leaving town, are you?” Dick Clark asked.
“Are you kidding?” Butler asked. “I may never leave.”
“Good, I’ll be here awhile, we can have another go at it.”
“Any time,” Butler said.
“Jack?”
“I’m supposed to head out,” Three-Eyed Jack said, “but after this I may need to rest up. I’m not as young as I used to be.”
“You ready for some more, Al?” Dick Clark asked.
Al Newman seemed very pleased to be asked and said, “Just name the time.”
“We’ll set it up with Luke and let you know,” Clark promised.
They all left the room together, made their way down a hall and came out into the casino, which at that time of the morning was empty.
“I’ve never seen this room like this,” Dick Clark said.
“It’s so quiet,” Newman said.
All the gaming tables were covered and the bar was closed. They went down the long stairway to the main floor and found the same to be true there.
“Luke is probably in his bed,” Dick Clark said. “His wife probably wouldn’t take too kindly to us wakin’ him— and her.”
“You’re probably right,” Butler said. “I’ll come by later and see him.”
However, when they made their way to the front door they found a man sleeping in a chair. He was wearing a gun and had his hat pulled down over his eyes.
“I think this is our man,” Butler said. “He’s probably here to lock the doors after we leave.”
“I hate to wake him,” Jack said.
“You already did,” the man said. He pushed his hat up off his eyes and squinted up at them. “You the fellers were in the private game?”
“That’s right,” Clark said. “The game’s over.”
“Okay,” he said, getting to his feet. “I’ll lock up behind ya.”
“Thanks,” Clark said. “Let Luke know we appreciate it.”
“I’ll tell ’im.” The man yawned widely.
“What’s your name?” Butler asked.
“I’m Victor,” the man said. “Just Victor.”
“Well, get some sleep, Victor,” Butler said. “Sorry to have to wake you.”
“No problem,” Victor assured them. “This is what I get paid for.”
Outside Newman asked, “Anybody for breakfast? I know a great place just down the street.”
“As the only player who lives here, I’ll bet you do,” Butler said. “I’ll take you up on that offer.”
“Not me,” Dick Clark said. “I’m turnin’ in.”
“Me too,” Jack said. “These old bones need rest.”
“’Night, gents,” Newman said. “Thanks again for the game—and the lessons.”
“Seems to me you learned your lessons pretty well, Al,” Jack told him.
“Good night,” Clark said.
“How far we going?” Butler asked Newman.
“Like I said, just down the street, this way.”
“Lead on, then,” Butler said. “I’m almost as hungry as I am tired.”
