“I ain’t got that much money on me,” Billy Ray said.
“What a shame,” Pearlie said as he reached for the pot.
“Wait a minute, do you know who I am?”
“They told me your name is Billy Ray. Is that not right?”
“It’s Billy Ray, all right. Billy Ray Quentin.” An arrogant smile spread across the young man’s face. “I reckon that names means somethin’ to you.”
Pearlie shook his head. “No,” he said. “To tell you the truth, Billy Ray, the name doesn’t mean a thing to me. Should it?”
“You damn right it should!” Billy Ray said angrily. “What’s the matter with you? Are you blind? Didn’t you see the name when you come into town? I near’bout own this town.”
“Actually, Billy Ray, that would be your pa that owns the town, not you,” Brandon said.
“It’s the same damn thing and you know it,” Billy Ray insisted. He looked across the table toward Pearlie. “Now here is the way it is, mister. I’m goin’ to see your twenty, and raise you by one hundred dollars,” he said. “You can either match that raise, or throw in your cards. What do you think of that?”
“I think if you are going to be raising me, you need to put the money in the pot,” Pearlie replied.
“I told you, I ain’t got it on me, but I’m good for it.”
“Mister, I’ve played poker in saloons and gambling halls all over the West,” Pearlie said. “And everywhere I’ve ever played, when a fella is raised, you either call, or raise with what money you brought to the table. Now if you have the money, put it out there. Otherwise, you’re goin’ to have to fold.”
“The hell you say!”
“Billy Ray, Pearlie is right,” Deckert said. “We’ve always played that way, and you know it.”
“What the hell business is it of yours, Deckert? You done dropped out of the game,” Billy Ray said angrily. “You lend me the money, Doc. You know I’m good for it.”
“I don’t have that much money on me,” Doc replied.
“Brandon?”
“Billy Ray, I’ve got a pretty good hand here myself,” the newspaper editor replied. “If I had enough money, I would have matched his raise. I don’t have the money.”
“All right!” Billy Ray said angrily. He took his hat off and ran his hand through his hair. “All right, take your damn money.”
“Thank you,” Pearlie replied, raking in the pot.
“What did you have?” Billy Ray asked.
“You know better than that, mister,” Pearlie said in a friendly voice. “If you didn’t pay to see my cards, then I don’t have to show them.”
“I aim to see them damn cards,” Billy Ray said. He reached across the table and flipped over the cards Pearlie had laid before him facedown.
“What?” he shouted when he saw them. “All you had was a pair of kings?”
Deckert laughed out loud. “Whoowee, Billy Ray. Looks to me like this young feller run a bluff on you. Yes, sir, he dangled that line down and hooked you just like a fish.”
Several other patrons in the saloon laughed as well.
“Why, you cheatin’ son of a bitch!” Billy Ray shouted, leaping up quickly from his chair. “You ain’t about to make a fool out of me!”
Billy Ray started for his pistol.
The first thing Pearlie noticed was how incredibly slow the man was. When he started his draw, Pearlie thought he was going to have to kill him, but Billy Ray’s draw was so slow and deliberate that Pearlie realized he had another, better option.
Pearlie drew his own pistol, easily beating Billy Ray, then wrapping his hand around it, he brought it down hard on Billy Ray’s head. The arrogant man went down like a poleaxed steer.
Reaching down, Pearlie picked up Billy Ray’s pistol, then walked over to the bar and dropped the gun into a large, brass spittoon, specifically choosing one that was full.
A couple of the other people in the saloon chuckled.
“Ole Billy Ray isn’t goin’ to like findin’ his gun in the spittoon,” Lenny said.
“I don’t like this. Billy Ray isn’t the type to take this. I’m afraid the stranger has let himself in for trouble,” Mary Lou said.
Doc got down on the floor beside Billy Ray and, gingerly, ran his hand over the bump on Billy Ray’s head.
“How is he, Doc?” Evans called from behind the bar.
“He’s all right. He’d going to have a headache, but he’s all right.”
Brandon grabbed his hat. “If nobody objects, I think I’ll leave before Billy Ray comes to.”
“I’ll join you,” Doc said, following the newspaper editor to the door, then outside.
Pearlie stepped up to the bar. The bartender was standing at the far end, and he stood there for a moment longer before he moved down.
