O’Dell called seven-card stud.
Tallman: “The game is seven-card stud.”
The players anted up a hundred apiece.
“The limit is two hundred. Cards to the players.”
He dealt two cards facedown to the players. O’Dell lifted the corners of his two cards. An ace of spades and a jack of hearts. Gorman peeked at his two cards, but Brodie could not see them well enough to read them.
Tallman dealt each a face card.
O’Dell: jack of spades.
Gorman: four of diamonds.
“Jack bets,” said Tallman.
O’Dell bet two hundred. Gorman called the bet.
Tallman: “The pot limit is now six hundred.”
He dealt the second cards up.
O’Dell: three of hearts. “Jack, three,” said Tallman.
Gorman: jack of clubs. Tallman: “Jack, four. Jack, four bets.”
Gorman studied the cards.
“Check,” he said.
O’Dell bet a hundred dollars. Gorman called the bet.
Tallman: “The limit is eight hundred.”
O’Dell: jack of hearts. “A pair of jacks and a club three,” Tallman said.
Gorman: three of hearts. “Heart jack, diamond four, a heart three. The pair bets.”
O’Dell’s tongue lashed at his lower lip. He started pulling hundreds from his pile.
“Eight hundred,” O’Dell snapped.
In the darkness, there was a sudden spate of whispered chatter.
“Quiet please, gentlemen,” Tallman admonished softly. “The bet is eight hundred. Pot limit is sixteen hundred dollars.”
Gorman studied his three face cards: jack, four of diamonds, three of hearts. He stared across the table at O’Dell, who was wearing what could pass for a smile.
“Call the sixteen hundred,” Gorman said.
Tallman sighed. “The limit is thirty-two hundred. Cards to the players.”
He dealt the last face card to O’Dell: an ace of spades. “A pair of jacks, three, and the ace of spades,” said Tallman.
Gorman caught a four of diamonds. “Two of diamonds, jack of hearts, three of hearts, four of diamonds. Three cards to a straight.” He looked at Gorman, who was expressionless.
“The pair still bets. The limit stands at twenty-four hundred,” Tallman said.
O’Dell said, “I’ll make it easy on you, old man.” He counted out twenty hundred-dollar bills and dropped them in the pot.
“The bet is two thousand,” Tallman said. He looked at Gorman, who was staring at O’Dell. “Two thousand buys you the last card. The pot stands at forty-four hundred. ”
Gorman hesitated. Was this a sucker bet to keep him in? Why would O’Dell make a soft bet? He studied O’Dell’s hand. A pair of jacks, an ace, and an eight. Possibilities? Three jacks or three aces. He had the cased jack of clubs and a cased ace. Either a pair of eights or a hidden pair in the hole. Unless all three of his hole cards were eights, he could not have four of a kind. Odds for a straight or flush were zero. A full house was the best hand he could have. With a pair of jacks showing, Gorman figured O’Dell had either two pair, jacks and possibly aces, or a jack high full house.
Eli would know after the last down card was dealt. If he had a full house he would check, gambling that O’Dell would bet, and O’Dell could raise him out of the game.
At this point, a full house, four of a kind, or a straight flush could beat Gorman.
Gorman called the two-thousand-dollar bet.
“The pot limit is sixty-four hundred dollars.”
An audible gasp from the darkened gallery. Hennessey brought Tallman a fresh cup of coffee, his sixth of the night, and he took a breath and a sip.
The last card.
Gorman watched O’Dell take a quick, cursory look at his down card, which told Gorman that O’Dell had his full house, probably jacks and a pair of aces or eights.
Gorman bent his hole card up, looked at it, and let it snap back on the felt.
Brodie got a quick look at it. A three of diamonds.
A pair of threes! Brodie thought. What are his other two hole cards? Even if Eli had another three and a pair of jacks, O’Dell’s full house would beat Gorman’s. This was a hand Eli couldn’t bluff.
O’Dell did exactly as Gorman anticipated. He checked.
Either he had two pair and was hedging, or it was a sucker bet. He’d figure Gorman, with a straight, would bet. O’Dell would raise him and drive him out of the game.
O’Dell swept up his stash and counted the hundreds. Gorman’s expressionless eyes watched him. He had sixty-nine hundred dollars left.
He looked across the table at Gorman’s neatly stacked cash. Easy to count. Sixty-seven hundred dollars.
Gorman looked at him for a minute or more. O’Dell finally looked away, lit a cigarette.
Gorman bet a hundred dollars.
The bet reduced O’Dell’s stash to sixty-eight hundred, Gorman’s to sixty-six hundred.
The pot was sixty-six hundred, the maximum bet.
“Looks like you’re gonna get your beauty sleep early tonight, old man,” O’Dell sneered. “You think you can bluff me out with a little straight?” He counted out a fistful of hundreds and dropped them in the pot. “The limit: six thousand six hundred dollars.”
He leaned back in his chair and smiled.
Eli sat quietly for a moment. Then he counted out his last dollar and dropped sixty-six hundred dollars on top of O’Dell’s bet.
“I’ll just call,” Eli said. “If you’ve got that filly, let’s see it.”
O’Dell’s left eye twitched. He looked at Gorman but saw only the dead stare he had seen all night.
He turned his first two hole cards over. An ace and a jack.
“Jacks full,” he snarled. “Let’s see that little straight of yours.”
“Oh, I have the little straight,” Gorman said, and smiled for the first time during the evening.
Gorman turned his first two hole cards over.
An ace of diamonds, a five of diamonds.
O’Dell started to reach for the pot.
Gorman turned over his last card. A three of diamonds.
“But they’re all diamonds,” Gorman said. And he laughed. “A straight flush.”
O’Dell stopped and looked at the trey of diamonds with disbelief. He wiped his mouth with his hand. Beads of sweat gleamed from his forehead. He looked at Gorman with hate.
The gallery began to babble. Hennessey poured himself a double bourbon.
“You kike bastard,” he bellowed, grabbing his full house and throwing the cards at Eli. A couple hit Eli’s chest, the others fluttered to the floor.
Tallman slammed his hand on the table.
“This was a gentleman’s game. Act like one!” he ordered. “Ace-five straight flush is the winner.” He took O’Dell’s stack of deeds and placed them on top of Eli Gorman’s land titles. “Winner takes all.”
Eli stood up and raked nineteen thousand eight hundred dollars into his satchel.
O’Dell was left with two hundred dollars, only enough for an ante. He would be beat on the first up card. He was trembling with rage. The gallery was crowding around Gorman, slapping him on the back, congratulating him, thanking him for saving the valley.
O’Dell threw his suit jacket over his shoulder and propped his derby on the back of his head. He started toward the door and over his shoulder he yelled, “Hey, Gorman.”
