Meek opened his mouth to accept the invitation, then closed it, caution
stealing over him. After all, he didn't know much about this place.
Maybe he'd better go a little easy, at least at first.
He shook his head. "No, I'm not very good at cards. Just a few games of
penny-ante now and then."
Stiffy looked his disbelief. "Penny ante," he said, then guffawed as if
he sensed humor in what Meek had said. "Say, you're good," he roared.
"Don't s'pose you can use them lightnin' throwers of yours either."
"Some," admitted Meek. "Practiced in front of a looking glass a little."
He wondered why Stiffy rolled in his chair with mirth until tears ran
down into his whiskers.
* * * * *
Stiffy held a full house ... aces with kings ... and his eyes had the
look of a cat stalking a saucer full of cream.
There were only two in the game, Stiffy and an oily gentleman called
Luke. As the stakes mounted and the game grew hotter the others at the
table dropped out.
Standing behind Stiffy, Oliver Meek watched in awe, scarcely breathing.
Here was life ... the kind of life one would never dream of back in
the little cubby hole with its calculators and dusty books at Lunar
Exports, Inc.
In the space of an hour, he had seen more money pass across the
table than he had ever owned in all his life. Pots that climbed and
pyramided, fortunes gambled on the flip of a single card.
But there was something else too ... something wrong about the dealing.
He couldn't figure quite what it was, but he had read an article about
how gamblers dealt the cards when they didn't aim to give the other
fellow quite an even break. And there had been something about Luke's
dealing ... something that he had read about in that article.
Across the table Luke grimaced.
"I'll have to call you," he announced. "I'm afraid you're too strong
for me."
Stiffy slapped down his hand triumphantly.
"Match that, dang you!" he exulted. "The kind of cards I been waiting
for all night."
He reached out a gnarled hand to rake in the coins but Luke stopped him
with a gesture.
"Sorry," he said.
He flipped the cards down slowly, one at a time. First a trey, then a
four and then three more fours.
Stiffy gulped, reached for the bottle.
But even as he did, Oliver Meek reached out and placed his hand upon
the money on the table, fingers wide spread. He'd remembered what he
had read in that article....
"Just a minute, gentlemen," he said. "I've remembered something...."
Silence thudded in the room.
Meek looked across the table straight into the eyes of Luke.