'The skipper ended up with four kings, I got four jacks and the ship's
doctor pulled a mere four tens.' Jake rearranged the queens in his
hand and broke off his story while Gareth Swales fulfilled the civil
servant's request for two cards.
'The dude himself took one card from the draw and the betting went mad.
We were throwing everything we owned into the pot. Thanks,
friend, I'll take two cards also.' Gareth flicked two cards across the
table, and Jake discarded from his hand before picking them up.
'As I was saying, we were almost stripping off our underpants to throw
it all in the middle. I was in for a little over a thousand bucks Jake
squeezed open the new cards and could hardly suppress a grin. All the
ladies were there. Four pretty little queens peered out at him.
'We signed IOUs, we pledged our wages, and the dude came right along on
the ride, not pushing the betting but staying right there.'
Gareth gave the baron one card and drew one himself.
They were listening now, eyes darting from Jake's lips to their own
cards.
'Well, when it came to the showdown, we were looking at each other
across a pile of cash that came to the ceiling and the dude hit us with
a straight flush. I remember it so clearly, in clubs three to the
eight. It took the skipper and me twelve hours to recover from the
shock and then we worked out the odds on that deal just happening
naturally it was something like sixteen million to one. The odds were
against the dude and we went looking for him. Found him down at the
old Peninsula Hotel, spending our hard-won gold. We were preparing for
sea at the time. Our boilers were cold. We sat the dude on top of
them, and fired them.
Had to tie him down, of course, and after a few hours his knockers,
were roasting like chestnuts.'
'By God,' exclaimed the peer.
'How awful.'
'Quite right,' Jake agreed. 'Hell of a stink in my engine room.' A
heavy charged silence settled over the table all of them aware that
something explosive was about to happen, that an accusation had been
made, but most of them not certain what the accusation was,
and at whom it had been levelled. They held up their cards like
protective shields, and their eyes darted suspiciously from face to
face. The atmosphere was so tense that it pervaded the gracious
room,
and the players at the other tables paused and looked up.
I think,' Gareth Swales drawled in crisp tones that carried to every
corner of the listening room, 'that what Mr. Barton is trying to say
is that somebody is cheating.' That word, spoken in these
surroundings, was so shocking, so charged with dire consequence, that
strong men gasped and blanched. Cheating in the club, by God, better a
man be accused of adultery or ordinary murder.
'I must say that I have to agree with Mr. Barton.' The icy blue eyes
snapped with angry lights, and he turned deliberately to the bewildered
member of the House of lords beside him.
'I wonder if you would be good enough, sir, to inform us as to the
