on the game," Ed called to Shinonn across the room. "Hey, barkeep, let’s get this boy a beer."
"No thanks, Ed. Like I said, I don’t play much cards. But I would like to watch if no one minds. Maybe I could learn how if I watch long enough."
She turned to the barkeeper and changed the order to a sarsaparilla. "I never did have a taste for beer or whiskey," she explained. Just the thought of whiskey reminded her of all the misery her family had suffered because of hard liquor, but she wasn’t about to elaborate on her past life with anyone at Kicking Mule.
Taking her bottle of sarsaparilla with her, she pulled up a stool and began watching the play. Because of her father’s disastrous history with cards, she had always studiously avoided any contact with them. But today, for some unexplainable reason, she found herself fascinated by the game. Hours passed unnoticed as she watched the players.
At first none of it made sense to her, but gradually she began to understand the basic rules of the game.
As time passed she began to learn the relative value of each hand. She watched the players, how they handled their cards, moved restlessly in their seats, their eyes shifting from their cards to check the expressions on the other players’ faces.
Her attention was drawn again and again to one particular player. She had noticed the man before when she had come into town to buy supplies. Something about him, not just his appearance but more his attitude, repelled her. She sensed a streak of dishonesty in him. The other men in the saloon appeared to accept him completely, but Shinonn felt herself drawing sway from his proffered friendship. Never showing her feelings, (she had learned long ago keep her thoughts to herself), she vowed to keep a watchful eye on the man.
So intent was she on watching the game, she was shocked when Tom stood, stretched his arms broadly and announced that it was time for him and his brother to cash in their chips. Hours had passed since she had sat down to watch, hours when she had barely moved or spoken a single word.
Being the only sober one in the trio, she carried the lantern for Tom and Ed as the three of them made their way back to their camps.
"How’d you manage to stay awake through all that?," Ed asked her as they trudged along the river.
"Sitting there for hours, not saying so much as one word, not even drinking a beer all night, that couldn’t a been much fun for you."
"But it was. I could have watched you play all night. I never knew how interesting a card game could be."
"Why don’t you sit in on the next game, if you liked it so much?" Tom suggested. "There’s always room for one more."
"Someday. I want to watch a few more times, until I’m sure I’ve got it down right. By the way, how well do you know that feller, Butch? There’s something about him that hits me wrong."
"Butch! Oh, he’s all right. He’s just one of the boys. I guess he’s been in town for a couple of weeks now, working a claim up there in Winter’s Canyon."
"He may be all right, but just the same, I think I’ll be keeping an eye on him."
Shinonn joined the Salverton brothers in the saloon again the next Sunday. Again she sat back from the table, observing each play and each player’s mannerisms. Again the time flew by as she absorbed more and more of the details of the game. She came to know intuitively which players had good hands and which were only pretending.
She noticed that time and time again Butch won the larger ports, seldom taking smaller ones. The more she watched him, the more she wondered if he might be cheating. No one had that much luck.
Then, on the fourth Sunday she came to town, Butch failed to show up for the usual game. Few comments were made of his absence as it was not unusual for a miner to choose to stay at his claim on any particular Sunday. In fact, Shinonn appeared to be the only one in the saloon who paid his absence any notice.
All evening she felt uneasy,
"No thanks, Ed. Like I said, I don’t play much cards. But I would like to watch if no one minds. Maybe I could learn how if I watch long enough."
She turned to the barkeeper and changed the order to a sarsaparilla. "I never did have a taste for beer or whiskey," she explained. Just the thought of whiskey reminded her of all the misery her family had suffered because of hard liquor, but she wasn’t about to elaborate on her past life with anyone at Kicking Mule.
Taking her bottle of sarsaparilla with her, she pulled up a stool and began watching the play. Because of her father’s disastrous history with cards, she had always studiously avoided any contact with them. But today, for some unexplainable reason, she found herself fascinated by the game. Hours passed unnoticed as she watched the players.
At first none of it made sense to her, but gradually she began to understand the basic rules of the game.
As time passed she began to learn the relative value of each hand. She watched the players, how they handled their cards, moved restlessly in their seats, their eyes shifting from their cards to check the expressions on the other players’ faces.
Her attention was drawn again and again to one particular player. She had noticed the man before when she had come into town to buy supplies. Something about him, not just his appearance but more his attitude, repelled her. She sensed a streak of dishonesty in him. The other men in the saloon appeared to accept him completely, but Shinonn felt herself drawing sway from his proffered friendship. Never showing her feelings, (she had learned long ago keep her thoughts to herself), she vowed to keep a watchful eye on the man.
So intent was she on watching the game, she was shocked when Tom stood, stretched his arms broadly and announced that it was time for him and his brother to cash in their chips. Hours had passed since she had sat down to watch, hours when she had barely moved or spoken a single word.
Being the only sober one in the trio, she carried the lantern for Tom and Ed as the three of them made their way back to their camps.
"How’d you manage to stay awake through all that?," Ed asked her as they trudged along the river.
"Sitting there for hours, not saying so much as one word, not even drinking a beer all night, that couldn’t a been much fun for you."
"But it was. I could have watched you play all night. I never knew how interesting a card game could be."
"Why don’t you sit in on the next game, if you liked it so much?" Tom suggested. "There’s always room for one more."
"Someday. I want to watch a few more times, until I’m sure I’ve got it down right. By the way, how well do you know that feller, Butch? There’s something about him that hits me wrong."
"Butch! Oh, he’s all right. He’s just one of the boys. I guess he’s been in town for a couple of weeks now, working a claim up there in Winter’s Canyon."
"He may be all right, but just the same, I think I’ll be keeping an eye on him."
Shinonn joined the Salverton brothers in the saloon again the next Sunday. Again she sat back from the table, observing each play and each player’s mannerisms. Again the time flew by as she absorbed more and more of the details of the game. She came to know intuitively which players had good hands and which were only pretending.
She noticed that time and time again Butch won the larger ports, seldom taking smaller ones. The more she watched him, the more she wondered if he might be cheating. No one had that much luck.
Then, on the fourth Sunday she came to town, Butch failed to show up for the usual game. Few comments were made of his absence as it was not unusual for a miner to choose to stay at his claim on any particular Sunday. In fact, Shinonn appeared to be the only one in the saloon who paid his absence any notice.
All evening she felt uneasy,
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