A FOOL AND HIS MONEY

"Hey, hold on a minute. I want to see this!" Hannibal Heyes pushed his way through the crowd gathered around a small table at the mouth of the alley.

"We ain't got time, Heyes. We're supposed to be at Tully's at midnight. It's five to," groaned Jed Curry, but his best friend had already disappeared into the sea of bodies. He suspected that Heyes was using any excuse to avoid starting their new jobs of swamping out the local drinking emporium. He had to admit that he wasn't much looking forward to cleaning up after a bunch of drunken cowboys either, but jobs were few and far between for boys their ages, even in the big city. It had taken a lot of luck and some stretching of the law for the two of them to have made it all the way to Denver from the tiny town they'd left behind in Kansas .

He fought his way through the onlookers ignoring angry protests and reciprocal shoves until he reached his partner's side. Heyes was watching a gaudily-dressed man who held three cups in one hand while reeling off a non-stop barrage of words to the crowd.

"One dollar, Ladies and Gents, that's all. Follow the ball and win ten dollars! That's right, ten dollars. Sir, care to try your luck?" The con man watched as his mark shook his head no and sank into the crowd. He barely noticed the slender, dark-haired young man who stepped up eagerly before him, but the dollar the boy pulled from his pocket got his attention. "All right! We've got a real man here willing to take a chance. Lay that dollar down, mister, and keep your eye on the ball." A tiny, pea-sized sphere rested on the table and Heyes locked his eyes on it as the man covered it with one of the overturned cups and then lined the other two up on either side. "Okay, you ready?"

Jed went to grab his arm to pull him away, but Heyes shook him off. "Heyes, we'll lose our job."

"You go on, I'll catch up with you."

"Hey, boys, I ain't got all night. You ready or not?"

Heyes nodded and the man went to work. Both boys were mesmerized by the lightening quick movements of the man's hands. Cups moved with fury across the felt-topped table for what seemed like an eternity before the man stopped and dropped his hands. "Go ahead, pick a cup. Find the pea and the money's all yours," he said with a smug, self-assured tone.

Heyes started to reach out to the cup on the left, but Jed's hand darted out faster and snatched up the cup on the right revealing the ball. Both Heyes and the man were surprised by his actions. The crowd roared its approval.

"Now, I believe it was your buddy here who was playing," the man began, but he heard the annoyed murmurs of the crowd and backed off what he'd been about to say, "but I'll give you the money as long as you give me a chance to win it back. Deal?"

"Deal," said Heyes quickly before Jed could pipe up again about the dreary job that awaited them. It had just struck midnight on the church bells and they were already late.

"Heyes," warned Jed.

"Come on. You play a couple of more rounds and we're still ahead eight dollars. That's three dollars more than that skinflint was willing to pay us a week," hissed Heyes. He saw Jed digest his words and an avaricious light sprang into those innocent, blue eyes.

Jed looked up at the man. "Okay, I'm ready. I'll bet one dollar of that ten I just won."

"Gonna make me work for my cash, are you?" quipped the man. The cups moved, exceeding the speed of the previous game. Both Heyes and Jed moved their heads back and forth mirroring the movements of the cups. Finally, they stopped and the man stared at Jed.

The curly-haired kid picked up the center cup revealing the ball. The crowd gasped, Heyes smiled, and the con man's mouth dropped. "That's not possible!" the man snapped.

"I reckon you owe me twenty bucks," said Jed.

Flustered, the man set the cups up again. "Tell you what, sonny…you win this time and I'll double your money." He laid down a twenty dollar bill on the table next to the two tens Jed had won, and openly dared the boy to risk losing his prize.

"I ain't no sonny," said Jed, glaring at the man.

The con felt an unwelcomed frisson of fear trickle down his spine at the coldness of those blue eyes, but he shook it off. This was just a child. He wasn't afraid to take candy from a baby. "Put up or shut up, kid."

Heyes pulled Jed aside. "Let's take our money and go. We can live real good on twenty bucks."

"No."

"Why no? Look, is it about the job? I'm real sorry…"

"It ain't about the job."

"Then what is it?"

"He called me sonny," growled the fuzzy-chinned kid.

Heyes rolled his eyes. "So?"

"So, he pissed me off."

"You let me call you Kid all the time."

"It ain't the same thing. You don't mean no disrespect; he does. I'm playin'!"

Heyes recognized that mulish expression. He threw his hands in the air and then crossed them tightly across his chest displaying his exasperation for all to see. The people around them pressed in closer and urged the young boy on. Things were beginning to get interesting.

Jed nodded to the man behind the table and the cups took off again. Three seconds later, Jed's hand shot out and caught the man's forearm. "You cheated."

"Wh…what?" stammered the man. He heard the grumbles ripple through the audience and knew it was about to turn dangerous for him. "No, I didn't!" he said with all the false indignation he could muster.

A shockingly strong grip held his arm. "Open your hand," commanded Jed.

"Now look here, sonny, there's no need to be a sore loser."

"I ain't no loser, and I ain't your sonny. Open your hand."

"Yeah, open your hand," someone called.

"If you ain't cheatin', prove it," yelled another.

What had moments before been a frivolous, fun atmosphere became a tense, pregnant pause. Heyes grabbed the forty dollars from the table and held onto it tightly. "Mister, I reckon you'd better open that hand or these good folks are gonna open it for you." A dimpled smile spread across the dark-haired boy's face as the threatening crowd surged closer.

Sweat beaded on the gaudy man's forehead and he looked wildly about for a way out.

"Open it!" shouted a voice. The demand was echoed repeatedly.

Defeated, the man went limp and he opened his curled fist. A tiny, pea-sized ball rolled from his palm, bounced across the table, and fell into the dirt of the alleyway with a small puff of dust. It was dead silent for a long second and then all hell broke loose. Jed released his grip as other, angry hands reached for the man, ripping his tattered waistcoat, yanking at his hair. The con man screamed abuses at his tormentors and twisted away, upending the table, and sending the mob scrambling back. Using the small advantage, he took off running down the alley with several burly men chasing him and disappeared from sight. The rest of the onlookers, curious to know his fate, followed.

Smiling, Heyes threw his arm around Jed's shoulders and squeezed, holding up the bundle of cash held in his fist. "We're rich!" he crowed.

Jed grinned, too. "Guess we don't need that job after all."

"Let's go get us a real steak dinner at that fancy hotel downtown."

"Now you're talkin'!" Jed fell into step with Heyes and they swaggered along the sidewalk triumphantly.

"Jed, I gotta ask. How did you do it? I kept my eye on those cups every second and I couldn't tell where that ball went."

"That's just it, Heyes. He wanted you to watch the cups."

"So?" Heyes stopped walking and turned to look at his younger friend.

"So, I watched his eyes. They told me everything I needed to know," said the boy with the steely, cold stare.

He started walking again, but Heyes stood, watching him walk away, a small, unreasonable knot of anxiety forming in his gut. He shook it off and hurried to catch up with his best friend.