Gambler Don't Come Cheap
Chapter 4 – Raymond Makes a FriendHe readied himself for the blows that never came. The thugs let go of him and he dropped back down to the floor, surprised to find himself still in one piece. Seth Johnson observed the look on his face and smiled. "You're lucky this time, Maverick. If there's a next time, you won't be. Raymond, put him back where you found him."
The man with the gun pointed it at him again. "Come on, Maverick, let's go." Bart wasn't going to wait for Johnson to change his mind; he was out the door so fast he almost lost Raymond. They walked back up the sidewalk to the doors of the dance hall and Raymond put the gun away. "So long, funny boy." Raymond turned to walk away and then turned back. "You were real lucky, tin horn. The boss don't usually play nice. He must like you. Don't count on it happening again."
Bart rolled his shoulders and straightened his coat – and watched Raymond walk away. Any desire to play more poker was completely gone. He felt lucky that he wasn't bruised and battered and wasn't in the mood to push that luck any further.
He headed back to the hotel. He was tired again, and he needed to mull the whole what-Buckley-didn't-tell-me over in his head for a while. Now he knew why Dandy had been so eager to forgo a potentially outrageous payday. Lose and possibly cost an innocent man his life; win and lose your own.
Respite was elusive, but it finally came before sunrise. Sleep tonight was dreamless; he didn't know if that was good or bad. When he finally woke he was stiff from lying in one position, and his head hurt. He got up and dressed, still thinking about the situation he'd found himself in. He needed to speak with Millie Ridgeway, and then her father Arthur, and determine how much they actually knew about Seth Johnson. Before the poker game started tonight.
He went downstairs for coffee and was ordering breakfast when a face he recognized appeared in the doorway. He stood and pulled out a chair for Millie before he asked "Join me for a late breakfast?"
She shook her head and ordered tea. As soon as the waitress was gone she blurted out "Did you see Morgan Edwards last night?"
He chuckled and picked up his coffee cup. "What else did your spies tell you?"
She blushed and looked away. "You played poker against our ranch foreman last night. After the game he saw Morgan at the table. What did he want?"
Her curiosity amused him. "Afraid he was after my soul?"
Without looking back at him she answered. "Morgan and I were going to be married. Once upon a time."
That explained Edward's questions about his interest in Millie. "He asked a lot of questions that led nowhere. Did you hear about my other encounter?"
"No," she finally turned her head back in his direction. "Who was it with?"
"Seth Johnson."
She let out a little gasp and then looked concerned. "And you're walking around like nothing happened?"
"Nothing did happen. We had a pleasant little chat. Interesting man."
Millie looked at him as if he'd grown a second head. "The last thing I would call him is interesting. I take it you met Raymond?"
He nodded. "Oh yeah. Raymond and I got acquainted."
"That's a strange way of putting it."
"Raymond is a strange man."
"What did Seth want?"
"To inquire after my health."
"What? What does that mean?" She wanted an explanation.
He set down his coffee and spread his hands. "Alright, cards on the table. What have I stumbled into? He told me if I win at poker I won't live to see my grandchildren."
Millie burst out laughing. "That's the Seth Johnson I know," she told him. "But I'm really shocked that the warning didn't come with a beating. That's more his style. You must have some really important friends to be treated with such respect."
"You mean it wasn't my charming personality?" He sounded offended.
"Maybe it was. I have no idea what motivates that man. Other than money."
He ate the last of his eggs and set his fork down. "Hmmm. Money. My old pappy used to say 'There's only one thing more important than money – that's more money'."
"Seth Johnson would agree with that wholeheartedly."
"What about your father?"
That was an easy answer for her. "No. My father believes in other things – family, friends, peace of mind. Happiness. Money falls way short of those."
"Mmmhmm. Good to know. How does he feel about staying alive?"
"What are you saying?"
He hesitated, wondering how she'd respond to his request. "I need to talk to your father."
"Before the game tonight?"
"Yep."
"I can arrange that. Where will you be?"
"Upstairs – room 219. Unless one of your other friends requires the pleasure of my company."
"They're not my friends." He believed her, just by the tone of her voice. "Bart?"
"Yes, Millie?"
"What are you going to do tonight?"
He set his napkin down on the plate. "I'm gonna play poker."
"To win or to lose?"
"That remains to be seen."
