XI THE NEW POKER RULE MADE IN ARKANSAS

It seemed a pity, after peace had prevailed so long in Brownsville, to have Long Mike and Gallagher at odds again. The big man had made no attempt for fully a year and a half to kill his foreman, and men had thought the feud was past, yet once again the smaller man was now seeking safety while Long Mike raged like a lion in his quest for his old-time foe.

“Sure I do be thinkin’ we’ll niver have peace in th’ place widout a firsht-class killin’. ’Tis th’ only thing as’ll shtill th’ atmoshphere,” said Stumpy.

It had broken out over a game of poker, but no man knew whether the smouldering embers of hatred had blazed up at a chance word, or whether some fresh spark had been kindled by the friction of the game.

Jim Titherton had been greatly astonished. Titherton was a gentleman of more or less elegant leisure, who spent much of his time travelling up and down the Mississippi River, stopping frequently at the smaller towns where the boats landed, but very seldom at any of the cities. Ashore he was never known to busy himself in any recognized commercial pursuit, but he was always ready and willing to play a game of cards with anybody who was properly qualified to play.

He had been in Brownsville for two days, and had already begun to look for the arrival of the next boat, finding that Brownsville was not overanxious to play cards with strangers, when somewhat to his surprise Long Mike invited him to play.

Of itself, this was a fact requiring explanation, but the further fact that Long Mike had started in made it unnecessary to seek any explanation for anything he might do. There was only one thing certain about Long Mike’s actions once he started in, and that was that he would do whatever would naturally be least expected.

When he challenged Mr. Titherton to a game of draw-poker, however, something like consternation was immediately manifest among the other occupants of the barroom. One evidence of the simplicity of life in Brownsville was that Sam had never found it necessary to adopt a name for his saloon. It did not have to be distinguished from the other barrooms, because there were no others.

In consequence, the main part of the male population of Brownsville sat in Sam’s place evenings, and when the leading citizen of the place, being not too completely in command of all his faculties, proposed to play poker with a stranger who was known to have suspicious ability as a player, to say the least, it was realized that a common peril impended; for Long Mike was not only the chief capitalist and the sole employer of labour in the place, but he was also known to be entirely reckless when he was well started, and capable of playing away his entire earthly possessions. Mr. Titherton, therefore, stood to win practically all the money in Brownsville unless something was done promptly.

It was true that Long Mike was lucky. It was one of the traditions of Brownsville, and the story had travelled both up and down the river, that nobody could win money from Long Mike in a square game, provided that gentleman kept sober enough to count his chips. But Brownsville realized that luck alone was not likely to avail much to the man who played single-handed with Mr. Titherton.

The obvious expedient, therefore, was to increase the number of players in the game. It seemed certain that if Titherton and Long Mike played a two-handed game, disaster would befall, but if several others should sit in, there would at least be the chance of frustrating any schemes of iniquitous play that might be instituted, and there would be the further possibility of breaking the game up by force of arms in case the disaster should become imminent.

It was usually Stumpy who spoke first, and this occasion proved to be no exception. Knowing the uncertain temper of his boss, he realized the necessity for diplomacy, and therefore spoke as one who might address the entire atmosphere:

“Av it wasn’t for me bein’ th’ cr-rack player in Brownsville, maybe it’s me ’ud be as’t for to take a hand, I don’t know. Sure, it’d be loike takin’ a bottle o’ milk from a babby. It’d be a sin f’r me to play.”

Long Mike looked at him uncertainly for a time. Then he laughed contemptuously.

“Since when did ye l’arn the game, Stumpy?” he said. “Sure, it was last week I bluffed ye out on a pair o’ deuces.”

“There’s ne’er a man this side o’ Memphis,” replied Stumpy, steadily, “can bate me at th’ game, barrin’ it’s Gallagher, yander, an’ maybe Ferguson, av he have the luck.”

“It’s Gallagher, is it?” said Long Mike, his face darkening at the mention of the name. “An’ Ferguson. An’ you. Sure it’s a foine pair the three av yez is. Belike anny wan o’ yez ’d play betther blindfold. But there, then, the more o’ yez cooms in, the more money there’ll be in th’ game. We’ll play five-handed.”

It took no diagram of the situation to explain matters to Gallagher and Ferguson, and it is proper to say that they saw their duty and did it like men, though it is certain that neither of them had any more relish for the undertaking than had Stumpy. Their loyalty to Long Mike was greatly stimulated by the realization of the peril to the common interest involved in his playing single-handed against Mr. Titherton, and they took their places at the card-table unhesitatingly.

Moreover, they took their places beside one another, and so contrived, without seeming to contrive, that Long Mike should sit on Titherton’s left, leaving the latter gentleman, to say the least, with no advantage of position. It would be his say in each round before Long Mike’s, so that he could not model his play on the latter’s.

For, it should be explained, Brownsville’s dislike to playing with strangers came from no lack of science, or skill, or courage. It arose merely from the fact that manual dexterity in the deal was the one thing which Brownsville could not boast. In all other respects, the Brownsville game of poker was well up to the Mississippi River standard.

They made the game table stakes, and each man flashed fifty dollars for a starter. They were used to a moderate game, but they all knew that it was liable to grow to much greater dimensions if Long Mike should become excited.

For the first few rounds, however, there was no great excitement. The hands ran tolerably well, two flushes and a full being shown inside of twenty minutes, with a straight and several threes, but no strong hands were out together, and there was no contest of any importance.

Then came what looked at first like a struggle. It was Stumpy’s deal, and Ferguson had put up the ante, fifty call a dollar.

Titherton came in, and so did Long Mike. Gallagher raised it two dollars. Stumpy and Ferguson dropped, and Titherton made it three more. That was a sufficient indication to Long Mike, and he passed it up to Gallagher, who promptly raised it five.

Titherton threw in his five and called for two cards. Gallagher called for one, and Titherton threw in a white chip. Gallagher looked at his draw carefully, and pushed his entire pile into the pot.

Thereupon Titherton studied for a full minute. He looked keenly at his antagonist’s face, and then he looked at his own hand again. And lastly he counted his chips, as if intending to call, keeping his head bent down, but watching Gallagher meantime out of the corner of his eye. Then suddenly he threw down his cards.

Gallagher said nothing as he drew in the pot, but there was a slight twitching at one corner of his mouth which led those who knew him best to suspect that he had not filled his flush. As this was no longer a matter of any importance nothing was said about it.

Ferguson dealt next, and as no one caught a hand, the cards passed to Titherton, and he dealt for a jack-pot.

It had not escaped Mr. Titherton’s notice, previous to this deal, that his manner of handling the cards had been the subject of close scrutiny, but he had not deemed it expedient to say anything about it. Now, however, as he began to serve the cards after the cut, he was somewhat astonished to see three of the players lean suddenly forward, so that their faces were within a foot of the table, and to notice that three pairs of eyes seemed to be fixed intently on his fingers.

“What the ——?” he exclaimed in surprise, and, stopping the deal, he glared for a moment at each of the three in turn.

They looked at him blandly in return, but volunteered no explanation, and he went on dealing, red with anger, but saying nothing more.

Long Mike had apparently taken no notice of all this, being occupied with some red liquor that Sam had brought to him in response to his rather boisterous demand, but when he had received his cards he looked at them carelessly and promptly opened the pot for the size of it.

When the others had seen their cards, they all came in, up to the dealer, and he raised it ten dollars. Long Mike hesitated, as if about to raise it back, but evidently decided that he was not in a good place for that play, so he merely made good.

Gallagher and Stumpy both came in on the raise, but Ferguson dropped. Long Mike then called for two cards, and as Titherton picked up the deck to serve him the three leaned forward again and watched the dealer’s fingers as they had done before.

Again Titherton paused, as if he had in mind to resent the insult, and again he thought better of it, and went on with the deal. Gallagher took one card and Stumpy took two, but they did not move to pick them up, keeping their eyes fixed on Titherton.

“The dealer takes one,” said Titherton, and he dropped one card alongside his hand, which lay in front of him.

Then the three straightened up and looked at one another, as if greatly astonished.

“Is thot the reg’lar game?” asked Gallagher.

“It is,” said Stumpy. “Thot is, it’s the new rule they’ve made in Arkansas. Maybe it’s rig’lar on th’ river now, I don’t know. In Arkansas the dealer has th’ privilege o’ ta-akin’ a card from the bottom or the top, av ye don’t see ut.”

“But how if you see ut?” asked Gallagher.

“Thot depinds,” said Stumpy. “On th’ boats they shoot, but on shore the dealer gen’ly goes over the levee, an’ all hangs on how he can shwim.”

“I’ll bet ten dollars,” said Long Mike, throwing the money in the pot.

He had been looking rather confusedly at his cards while the others talked, not paying attention to what they said. But Titherton interposed.

“Hold on a minute,” he exclaimed, laying his hand down in front of him and putting some chips on the five cards.

He moved and spoke very deliberately.

“Will you gentlemen be good enough to explain what you are talking about?” he demanded.

“We will,” said Stumpy. “We was discussin’ a new rule in dhraw-poker.”

“Ut were called to moind,” said Gallagher, “by a slight pecooliarity av yer digital manœuvres.”

They said that Gallagher had once been a schoolmaster.

“You’re a liar,” said Titherton, that being the next regular move in the game, and, as custom required, he pulled his gun at the same instant and covered Gallagher.

Three other revolvers appeared at the same instant, and if Long Mike had not been a person of almost preternatural promptness, there would have been gun-play if not bloodshed in the room. He moved like a cat, however, and Titherton’s gun went spinning across the room before he could pull the trigger. Long Mike had seized his wrist and shaken it, and the bones came near snapping.

“Ye’ll cease yer palaver, an’ play the hand,” said the big man, as angry as the others. “Av there’s foightin’ to do, ye’ll do it afther. An’ if ye’re afther takin’ a card from the bottom o’ the deck, ye’ll kape it an’ Oi’ll play ye annyhow. But that omadhaun there, he’s no liar. Oi’ll say that for him. But he’ll settle wi’ me later for breakin’ up this play.”

But this amazing proposition met with no favour from any one. Titherton struggled like a wild beast in his rage, but was unable to free himself, though he began to bite at Long Mike’s fingers, and the others sprang to their feet.

“Don’t shoot,” said Stumpy, putting away his gun. “Let’s run the spalpeen into the river.” And the other two started to help him.

But Long Mike was aroused by the pain of a sharp bite, and his temper gave way. His strength was as the strength of seven men, and he, too, arose, knocking the table over as he lunged forward. Seizing Titherton with both hands he lifted him high in the air and threw him violently against the wall, whence he fell unconscious to the floor.

Then the big man made a rush for Gallagher.

“Oi’ll kill yez this time!” he exclaimed, and Gallagher knew that he would.

It was, therefore, small wonder that he dodged under Long Mike’s arm and made a flying leap through the window, carrying sash and all with him.

There was a frantic pursuit, but Gallagher had gained a few seconds of a start and was nowhere to be found. After a good part of the night had been spent in fruitless search, they bethought them of Titherton, and went back to look for him, but he had recovered consciousness and had made his escape also.

“Sure it’s a pity we didn’t throw him in the river whin he were stunned, an’ he’d niver ha’ knowed th’ difference,” said Stumpy, discontentedly.

But Long Mike raged as was his fashion, and called for red liquor many times, breathing out threats of what he would do on the morrow, till the others saw that it was necessary to encourage him in his effort to get a sufficiency of liquor.

And when they had finally accomplished this, and had put him safely in his own bed, Stumpy said again:

“Sure there’ll be no such thing as livin’ quiet an’ peaceable in Brownsville till we have a firsht-class killin’. But Oi do be thinkin’ it’ll not be Gallagher. He do get away too often.”