"You beat me. It's your kitty."
Rafferty scooped the pot in, frowning inwardly. He'd made his
bluff--but Steel had been bluffing right along with him. It was only
luck that the little man hadn't been holding a Queen.
Rafferty pulled Jack high again on the next deal, took three, came up
with nothing and folded. On the next hand both men played it cautiously
and Rafferty dropped fifty credits when Steel's pair of kings took his
tens.
Next deal, Rafferty again came up with nothing. Inwardly he cursed; the
cards weren't coming as well as they had. He decided to bluff again,
since the previous attempt hadn't yielded any information about his
opponent's tactics.
This time he pushed the bet up to a thousand before calling.
"Three sevens," Steel said.
"You beat me," Rafferty said, and collapsed his hand.
"Mind if I look?" Steel said.
"Yes," said Rafferty. He was surprised; it was a rank amateur's trick
to ask to look at a hand that had been tossed in. Coming from a cool
customer like Steel, it didn't make much sense.
But slowly Rafferty began to fathom the way his opponent's mind worked.
And slowly, as his genius for the game asserted itself, Rafferty began
to win.
By 2100 his pile of chips totalled near fifty thousand. It was enough
to pay off Walsh and still come out with a comfortable profit for the
evening's work--but Rafferty didn't want to quit. He didn't play the
game that way.
He decided to go for a killing. He had Steel figured, now and he could
take the house for a fortune.
Nursing three jacks and a pair of fours, he pushed the betting higher
and higher. Steel kept right with him.
"Three thousand? I'll see you and raise one."
Without letting expression cross his face, Rafferty pushed a few more
credits out. Then a few more. Then a few more. Five thousand credits
hung on this deal, now.
He remained totally blank-faced. That was the secret of poker: never to
tip off an opponent to anything. Steel was good, but Steel kept giving
himself away.
Like now, for instance. Perhaps the shill didn't know it, but his right
eyebrow was twitching faintly. So far, every time Steel had bluffed a
weak hand, that eyebrow had twitched.
Well, now Rafferty had him. He had a full house; it was going to take a
bunch of fancy cards to top it. And Steel was almost certainly bluffing.
"Six thousand," Rafferty said.
"Seven."
"Seven five."