Dandy had plenty of suggestions, all of which Bret vetoed. When I couldn't stand hearin' any more of "No, that won't work," I finally spoke up.
"Look, Jim, you're makin' this too complicated. Let me go in and play the same wheel and see if I can spot the imbalance."
"You don't play roulette, Bart."
"No, but I've run enough games to know when there's somethin' wrong."
"Then what?" Dandy asked.
"I don't know yet. We can decide afterwards."
"Like we decided this?" Bret had to throw that in, tryin' to get a rise out of Dandy, I assume. But then he continued. "That's probably not a bad idea, Bart. Don't raise a fuss, just play for a while and see what you can find out."
"I need money, Dandy." I knew that was gonna get Dandy's ire up, but my poke was small enough that I wasn't willing to risk what little I had left. Surprisingly, Dandy agreed and pulled out his wallet. It was practically stuffed. I was sure that he'd pulled some kind of nefarious scheme to get his hands on that much money.
"Here's three hundred. Is that enough?"
"Sure." When I dressed this morning I'd put on a black shirt and pants and my buckskin jacket; I wanted to look more like a ranch hand or saddle bum than a professional. I grabbed my hat and headed for the door.
"Hold up, son. I'm goin' with you."
"Why?" I asked Bret. "I don't need no bodyguard."
"Just as an observer." He got closer to me and asked quietly, "You don't expect me to sit here with Buckley, do you?"
"Good point. Which roulette wheel was it, Jim?"
Dandy didn't hesitate. "The big one, all the way in the back. It's off less than an eighth of an inch, tilted towards the north."
I nodded. "We'll be back. Stay here."
Bret and me left and walked down the hall to the stairs. "Why did you decide to help?" I asked him. "I know you barely tolerate Buckley."
"That ain't important. If this place is really crooked . . . you know how I feel about that."
"Yeah, but there's still Buckley."
"You wanted to do something. God only knows why, but you did. And you're my brother."
"Even if it helps Buckley?"
"I refuse to accept responsibility for that outcome."
I chuckled as we split up; I walked straight to the back of the saloon and Bret disappeared somewhere. It was easy to locate the wheel Dandy was referring to, and I was surprised to find so many men crowded around it at this time of day. I stood and watched for five or ten minutes but I needed to get closer to the wheel, and the only way to do that was to start betting. As soon as I laid down money space opened up for me at the roulette table, and I was better able to see the wheel. It took several spins before I caught it, but Jim was absolutely right – the thing was out of balance such a small amount that nobody but a professional like Dandy would ever notice it. I wouldn't have seen it if I hadn't been lookin' for it.
Five minutes later I walked away from the roulette wheel and went searchin' for Bret. He was at a poker table with three other men and a dealer, and I made eye contact and walked outside. I lit a cigar and propped my foot up on one of the lower railings in front of the hotel and waited. It was a full fifteen minutes before he came out, looking about as grim as I'd ever seen him. "Problem?" I questioned.
"Good thing we didn't try to play poker last night."
"Crooked dealer?"
He nodded. "At that table. Every trick you can imagine. What about you?"
"Buckley was right," I told him. "The wheel is out of balance so minutely I'm surprised I could see it."
Bret sighed, and I knew what he was thinkin'. "Buckley's gonna be impossible to live with."
"Until we figure out what comes next."
"Can't we just . . . " Bret whined. I knew what he wanted to do – pack up and leave Grand Junction without getting any further involved. Only twice before had I ever heard him use that tone of voice, and both times it had to do with Buckley.
"No. You agreed to help; we can't back out now. Let's go tell Jim."
Bret muttered something unintelligible but followed me back into the hotel and up to Buckley's room. Jim answered my knock and the first thing I noticed was his clean, shiny boots. Good thing Dandy had his priorities in order.
Soon as we got in the room, Buckley looked from me to Bret and back to me. "Well?"
"You were right, Dandy. It's out of balance. Deliberately out of balance, I'm sure." Bret had gone to sit on one of the settees. "Bret says the poker tables appear to be rigged, too."
Jim got the biggest smile on his face, like the kid at the candy counter that was just given a handful of licorice. "Let's go find the owner. Maybe we can get in on his operation."
I heard Bret snicker. "You are such a crook, Buckley. If we find the owner it ain't gonna be to muscle in on his cons."
Dandy's face fell. "No?"
"No," I told him. "Places like this are the reason gamblers get looked at sideways, like the way the marshal looked at us this mornin'. People think we're all cheats."
"We're not?" Buckley saw the look on my face and changed his tune. "I mean, we're not."
Even I winced at that one. I'd pulled enough cons in my time, mostly petty stuff that didn't amount to much. Bret and I had even run one or two big ones when we were desperate, but nothin' like the operation at the Golden Slipper. And considerin' the way we both felt about jail, we weren't about to start now.
"I'm not. My brother Bart's not. You, Buckley . . . jury's still out on you." I had to agree with Bret. Especially given my current suspicions about the state of Buckley's new-found wealth.
"So what do we do now? Whether you have any regard for me or not, the Golden Slipper is cheating innocent, unsuspecting people." Dandy turned and spoke directly to Bret. "And I know you, Maverick. This isn't something you can ignore."
Brother Bret responded quickly, much to my surprise. And there was no trace of anger, or hostility, or even denial in his voice. "For once Buckley, I agree with you completely."