them could get away from this hand. You just couldn’t lay a hand like this down in five-card stud, and he didn’t even know what their hole cards were. At that moment, though, he most certainly would rather have been in Doc’s chair than in Butler’s.
Butler knew there was no getting away from this hand. There was also going to be no bluffing. This was just amatter of who had the best cards, with all the money going into the middle of the table because, at that moment, they were about even.
Doc also knew there was no folding now. This is the hand poker players wait for, only they both had it. The question was, who had the better dream hand?
Butler had three kings on the table with a deuce of spades keeping them company.
Doc had three aces on the table with a seven of clubs alongside them to tag along.
Everyone watching was leaning forward, waiting for the next play to be made.
“Three aces are high on the table,” Doc said. “It’s my bet.”
“Yeah, it is,” Butler said, sitting back in his chair. Despite some distractions in the room, he’d been able to concentrate for the most part. He hoped the same was true of Doc.
Everyone waited for the bet.
Pennington was waiting also. Despite himself he had managed to get caught up in the game. Deke was standing next to him, also watching the two men intently.
Behind them, outside the circle of onlookers, Waldo was still trying to convince Seth that the plan was sound—this despite the fact that he still was not convinced himself.
Still, it was his responsibility to make sure Seth knew his part.
“That’s a pretty good-looking hand you got there, Doc,” Butler said.
“Yours ain’t bad, either, old son.”
“No, it ain’t,” Butler agreed. “I’d go to the mat every time with a hand like this.”
“Exactly how I feel about mine.”
“So what do we do?” Butler asked.
Finally, Doc Holliday pushed all his money into the center of the table and said, “I guess we go for it all.”
CHAPTER 30
Jesus, Bat thought, is Butler gonna do it—go for it all against three aces on the table? Sure, he had three kings, but that was second best against Doc’s aces.
Unless Butler had another one in the hole—or a deuce.
Bat had been involved in hands like this himself, but he’d found those less nerve-wracking than this one.
If either man lost, would it break them? Financially and in spirit?
Would Doc Holliday go over the edge?
How would Butler react?
His feeling was that the hand was worse for everyone watching than for the two men involved. To them this was just one more hand, no more or less important than any that had come before, or would come later.
Anyway, that’s how Bat would have approached. Many was the time he’d been beaten in a hand like this and left for broke. He always managed to come back. He always managed to find himself in a hand like this again, and come out on top next time.
Until the next time…
Butler looked at all the money in the middle of the table. Losing this hand would not break him, but he wondered if it would break Doc? It didn’t really matter. He was going to play the hand to win, no matter what. He was just wondering…
“Jesus Christ!” Bat Masterson yelled. “What’s it gonna be?”
Other men began yelling, and they didn’t stop until Butler put his hands in his chips.
Then it got dead quiet.
Doc Holliday watched without emotion. He believed that he had spit up all the emotion he had left inside of him. There was nothing left really. Now his life was just like this poker game, just waiting to see what the next move was going to be.
“Okay,” Butler said, shoving the remainder of his chips into the center of the table with Doc’s, “I call.”
Now the onlookers leaned in to see the hole cards of the two players.
“What do you have, Doc?” Butler asked.
“You’re lookin’ at them,” Doc Holliday said. “Three aces. If you got a fourth king in the
Butler knew there was no getting away from this hand. There was also going to be no bluffing. This was just amatter of who had the best cards, with all the money going into the middle of the table because, at that moment, they were about even.
Doc also knew there was no folding now. This is the hand poker players wait for, only they both had it. The question was, who had the better dream hand?
Butler had three kings on the table with a deuce of spades keeping them company.
Doc had three aces on the table with a seven of clubs alongside them to tag along.
Everyone watching was leaning forward, waiting for the next play to be made.
“Three aces are high on the table,” Doc said. “It’s my bet.”
“Yeah, it is,” Butler said, sitting back in his chair. Despite some distractions in the room, he’d been able to concentrate for the most part. He hoped the same was true of Doc.
Everyone waited for the bet.
Pennington was waiting also. Despite himself he had managed to get caught up in the game. Deke was standing next to him, also watching the two men intently.
Behind them, outside the circle of onlookers, Waldo was still trying to convince Seth that the plan was sound—this despite the fact that he still was not convinced himself.
Still, it was his responsibility to make sure Seth knew his part.
“That’s a pretty good-looking hand you got there, Doc,” Butler said.
“Yours ain’t bad, either, old son.”
“No, it ain’t,” Butler agreed. “I’d go to the mat every time with a hand like this.”
“Exactly how I feel about mine.”
“So what do we do?” Butler asked.
Finally, Doc Holliday pushed all his money into the center of the table and said, “I guess we go for it all.”
CHAPTER 30
Jesus, Bat thought, is Butler gonna do it—go for it all against three aces on the table? Sure, he had three kings, but that was second best against Doc’s aces.
Unless Butler had another one in the hole—or a deuce.
Bat had been involved in hands like this himself, but he’d found those less nerve-wracking than this one.
If either man lost, would it break them? Financially and in spirit?
Would Doc Holliday go over the edge?
How would Butler react?
His feeling was that the hand was worse for everyone watching than for the two men involved. To them this was just one more hand, no more or less important than any that had come before, or would come later.
Anyway, that’s how Bat would have approached. Many was the time he’d been beaten in a hand like this and left for broke. He always managed to come back. He always managed to find himself in a hand like this again, and come out on top next time.
Until the next time…
Butler looked at all the money in the middle of the table. Losing this hand would not break him, but he wondered if it would break Doc? It didn’t really matter. He was going to play the hand to win, no matter what. He was just wondering…
“Jesus Christ!” Bat Masterson yelled. “What’s it gonna be?”
Other men began yelling, and they didn’t stop until Butler put his hands in his chips.
Then it got dead quiet.
Doc Holliday watched without emotion. He believed that he had spit up all the emotion he had left inside of him. There was nothing left really. Now his life was just like this poker game, just waiting to see what the next move was going to be.
“Okay,” Butler said, shoving the remainder of his chips into the center of the table with Doc’s, “I call.”
Now the onlookers leaned in to see the hole cards of the two players.
“What do you have, Doc?” Butler asked.
“You’re lookin’ at them,” Doc Holliday said. “Three aces. If you got a fourth king in the
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