"I'd been teaching Henry to play poker for months; it's why his game improved so dramatically."

Not knowing Ezra very well, Harker took the admission in stride; Chris, however, was surprised. "Since when do you teach anyone anything about poker? You've cleaned JD out of an entire week's pay at least three times that I know of; as far as I can tell, he ain't learned a thing from you."

"And he probably never will. He is a fine lawman, but he should give up on poker." Ezra laughed, but the other two didn't join in and it turned into a sigh. "Henry joined a game several months ago; he was terrible and he lost quickly but graciously. The next day he came by and asked me to teach him to play."

"And you did?" Chris was more than a little incredulous.

Ezra smiled a small, sad smile. "People lose in all sorts of ways; some just accept it as part of the game, some get angry at themselves, others get angry at me. But no one had ever come back and just asked if I could help make them a better player. So yes, I agreed to teach him."

Chris was stunned. Thinking back, he realized that it was true: in all the games he'd ever sat in on or just watched, neither he nor the other five lawmen had ever asked for so much as a tip from the expert in their midst. Even more astonishing was the realization that he would have given it to them if they'd asked.

"But why'd you teach him to cheat?"

"I assure you, that was not my aim. I was teaching him how to spot someone palming a card; it helps to know how it's done in order to recognize it. I never thought he'd try it himself, and I don't know why he did that night. He was an honest kid," Ezra stopped and closed his eyes for a moment.

"Are you okay to continue, Ezra?" Harker asked with concern.

"Yes, I'm fine." Ezra blinked a few times and took another bite, avoiding their gazes. "I think Henry just got caught up in winning so much for the first time and he decided to try something stupid. But I couldn't let him use what I'd taught him against me like that, and I didn't want to see him become a dishonest player. So I taught him another lesson, a hard one. When he left, he knew I'd cheated him, and he knew that I knew he'd tried to cheat me. Maybe he came back later to apologize; it seems like something he would have done."

"I'm just asking, Ezra, so don't take this the wrong way," Chris warned, "but looking back, do you think you'd've given him back his money in those circumstances?"

Ezra gave it some thought. "His salary was hardly exorbitant, and most of it was divided between his family and his savings. He'd set a limit on what he could gamble with every week and he'd always stuck to it; I know I admired that restraint." He shrugged noncommittally. "I can't imagine that I would have given back everything, but I believe I would have given back anything beyond his customary limit. I suppose I have to believe that, don't I?"

Chris didn't respond; Ezra was right—it was the only explanation that didn't make him and Henry accomplices in a robbery. "So now what?" he finally asked, turning to Harker.

The lawyer mulled over what he'd heard. At last he said, "Well, now that I know your side of the story, I think you've got to take the stand."

Ezra almost choked on his food. "Are you out of your mind? I can't possibly—"

"Hear the man out, Ezra."

"You can't be serious!" He dropped the plate, letting the food splatter across the floor.

"Why not?" Chris asked.

"Because it's ludicrous! No, absolutely not." Ezra laid back down on the cot with his back to the other two men and drew the blanket up to his ears.

Chris and Harker exchanged a 'Now what?' look. After several minutes, Harker shook his head dejectedly and left. Chris was trying to decide whether to leave as well when a muffled voice came from the cell.

"No one is going to believe me." There was a pause and then, even more quietly, "I don't even believe me."

Chris ran his hand through his hair with a sigh. There was no point in bluffing, certainly not to Ezra of all people. "They may not. Ain't nothing you can do about that," he said frankly. "You're in a corner here, Ezra, and you ain't done much to help yourself so far, or let anyone else help you. And maybe it's too late to make a difference—"

"Good lord, I hope this isn't your idea of a pep talk."

The gunslinger couldn't help smiling at the comment but his expression immediately sobered. "Point is, the Ezra Standish I know wouldn't go down without a fight. He'd get up in front of that jury and tell his side, no matter what happened. And Ezra—" he waited until Ezra sat back up and faced him, "you ain't fighting alone. You never were."