Bounty on a Baron by Robert J. Randisi Page A

money.
    There was one glaring reason why he was over here.
    He was cheating.
    In the Broadus House, no one noticed, but acrossthe street at the Dice Box he would have been caught almost immediately. So here he sat, stealing hardearned money penny by penny instead of dollar by dollar—so to speak.
    Decker was seated directly across from the man, so he knew how the man was cheating.
    The man—whom the others called “Cal”—was dealing now. He paused to cough, covering his mouth with a handkerchief from his jacket pocket.
    “Excuse me,” he said, replacing the handkerchief. “Cards are coming out, gentlemen. Draw poker.”
    He dealt each man five cards. Decker picked his up and spread them; he had three tens and thought this was as good a time as any to call the man for cheating. If the man seated to his left hadn’t opened, he would have. Now, he raised.
    “A dollar,” he said, which was a large raise for this game. The others were losing, but they stayed in, possibly seeing the hand as a quick way to get some money back.
    When the bet went around to Cal, he said, “I raise a dollar as well.”
    Since they all were in for the first dollar, they stayed for the second.
    “Cards?”
    “Two,” said Decker when it was his turn.
    When everyone had his cards, the opener timidly bet fifty cents.
    “I raise,” Decker said. “Two dollars.”
    The two players to his left folded, and Cal gave him a long look.
    “Seems like you think you’ve got something, fella.”
    “Cost you money to find out.”
    “Oh, it’ll cost one of us money,” Cal said, “that’s for sure. I raise ten dollars.”
    “Ten dollars?” the opener said. “That’s…that’s too high.”
    “Then fold,” Cal said without looking at the man. “Leave this here game to me and mister…”
    Decker didn’t bother supplying his name. He looked at the man who had opened, and the man quickly folded.
    “I raise twenty,” Decker said.
    “Twenty?” Cal said. “This game is starting to sound like it belongs across the street.”
    At that point, Cal began coughing and took out his handkerchief. When he paused in his coughing he placed the handkerchief on the table, obstructing the view of his hand for a moment. He started coughing again, brought the cloth to his lips, and then replaced it in his pocket.
    “I’ll see you and raise you the same,” he said to Decker.
    Decker studied his cards for a moment, then said, “All right, I’ll call. I’ve got three tens.” He spread his cards on the table.
    “Oh, too bad,” Cal said. He put his cards down, revealing an ace-high flush.
    As he started to reach for the pot, Decker drew his gun and placed it on the table.
    “If you touch that pot, I’ll kill you.”
    Cal froze. He stared at Decker’s face, then the shotgun, then his face again.
    “I don’t understand.”
    Everyone else in the place did, though. They crowded around to see who would get shot. They didn’t much care which, as long as it was one of them. It would give them something to talk about.
    “That isn’t the hand I called,” Decker said, indicating the cards on the table.
    “What?”
    “The hand I called is in your pocket,” Decker said, “with your handkerchief.”
    “Are—are you accusing me of cheating?” Cal asked.
    “Yes.”
    “For a small pot like this?”
    “Yes.”
    Cal laughed nervously.
    “If I was going to cheat, wouldn’t it make more sense for me to work the Dice Box across the street? The games are bigger there.”
    “They’d also spot you in a minute there,” Decker said, “like I did. You’re not very good at it. Tell me, why is it your cough has suddenly cleared up?”
    “My…cough?”
    “Take out the handkerchief,” Decker said.
    Slowly, Cal sat back and reached into his pocket.
    “If you come out with a gun, I’ll kill you. If you come out with the handkerchief, and not the cards, I’ll kill you. Have I made myself clear?”
    Sweating, Cal nodded. He took the handkerchief out and