BOOTS AND FLUSHES
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The little bell over the door tinkled when Kid Curry and his partner walked into the store and scanned the walls looking at the merchandise on display. The entire shop had the fresh smell of new leather as every shelf in the shop was lined with boots and shoes of every style imaginable. Most were of cowhide leather, but a few more exotic options, such as snakeskin, alligator, and goat were also on display.
"May I help you?" asked the short, rotund, balding man dressed in a black suit and vest that enhanced his round belly, and a pair of round wire rim spectacles framing his eyes.
"I'm looking for a new pair of boots," Kid explained.
"And how will the boots be used, sir?"
Wrinkles formed on Kid's brow and he gave Heyes a questioning glance. "To cover my feet," he replied.
"Of course, sir. But I mean are you looking for utility boots or something more fashionable?"
"I need a pair of boots I can work in, ride in, maybe even walk a fair amount in," Kid replied.
"So a pair of working man's boots."
Again Kid gave Heyes a questionable look. "I believe that's what I just said."
"Please, follow me," the man replied and led them toward the back of the store."Have a seat, and if you'll remove your right boot sir, I'll get a measurement of your foot."
Kid was use to buying his boots directly from the shelf of a general store and had never visited an actual boot maker's shop before. All the fall-DE-rall was making him nervous. But Heyes gave him a nudge and a nod of the head and together, they sat down in adjacent chairs and Kid pulled off his right boot.
The little man bent down with his metal measuring device and placed it on the floor in front of Kid's right foot. "If you'll slide your foot in here, please."
Kid slid his socked foot on the measuring device. "I can already tell you I wear a size twelve," he explained.
After a moment obtaining length and width measurements, the little man stood. "Yes you do, he said. But, if you're looking for a custom made boot, I would suggest a twelve and a quarter. Leather tends to be rather stiff and tight in a new boot and increasing the size just a tad eliminates much of the discomfort of breaking in a new pair."
"How much does a custom pair of boots cost?" Kid asked.
"There are a lot of factors involved when determining cost, the quality of leather, the type of sole, the quality of the stitching material, the amount of tooling desired. Of course the more exotic choices such as alligator or elephant skin raises the price considerably."
"Just a plain leather boot that's able to keep my feet dry and can hold up on cattle drives," Kid told the salesman.
"I can see you're a man of distinct preferences," the salesman replied. "I can show you examples of a few styles to choose from. Give me just a moment and I'll gather some samples to show you."
With that the man disappeared behind a curtain to the storage room.
"Kid," Heyes whispered. "You're a size twelve?"
Kid shrugged. "I got big feet. Why, what size do you wear?"
Heyes leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Never mind," he replied.
The owner returned laden down with a stack of six boxes of boots. As he stooped to place the stack on the floor, the box at the top of the pile began to wobble and Heyes jumped to his feet to assist the salesman. Already towering above the salesman, Heyes was easily able to grab the top two boxes and set them on the floor. The third box slid off the pile and landed in Kid's lap, while the first two boxes were easily maneuvered by the little man.
The owner did not so much as bat an eyelash at the near disaster. Instead he merely reached for the box in Kid's lap, moved it to the floor before opened the lid.
"Boots come in a rounded or square toe. Most men seem to prefer the rounded toe," he explained as he handed Kid the boot to examine. "That particular boot has a one inch heel but we can make a slightly lower heel that provides greater comfort when walking or a slightly larger heel that provides a half to a full inch to a man's height."
Kid held the stiff boot on his hands. "Bit fancy with the tooling," he said. "I ain't concerned about looking taller, and can you make something in a softer leather? Something I don't need to break in for comfort?"
"Of course sir. Now it may come as a surprise to you but the softer the leather, the more costly the boot. It's all in the tanning process you understand."
"Something more pliable than this and, maybe in a light tan," Kid replied.
The man's eyes scanned the shelves of boots and spied two styles in a soft tan leather. He walked over and picked both pairs from the shelves and returned to his customer.
Kid reached for both pairs and examined them carefully. "How long would it take you to make this one?" he asked.
"That one is a discontinued style, sir. I'm basically just showing you that one because of the soft grade of leather that could be used. I can order a different style but in this same color and grade of leather."
"And I can't just buy this one of the shelf?" Kid asked.
"You could, sir, but it's is only a size ten."
"Maybe I should look at it," Heyes said as he reached for the boot and saw the sideways glance Kid shot him.
"Alright, " Kid said, returning his attention to the salesman. "So if I was to order a pair of boots with a rounded toe, in a light tan and this grade of leather, and a low heel, how much would that set me back?"
"In his style, twenty-three dollars, sir."
"Will you give me anything for my old boots?" Kid asked.
The salesman had already noted the the hole in the toe of Kid's boot and did not even bother giving Kid's boots a second glance.
"I'm afraid not, sir. I don't like to be blunt sir, but there's a hole in the toe of your left boot."
Kid slid his left foot under the chair to obscure the view. "What do you think, Joshua?"
"I think those look a site more comfortable than the old worn out boots you're wearing now, and they'll keep your feet dry."
"But twenty-three dollars..."
"Well, if you want to keep walking around with pinched toes and a hole in your boot..."
"How long will it take to make these?" Kid asked the salesman.
"I can place the order this afternoon and they will be ready, a week from Thursday."
Kid shook his head. "I ain't gonna be in town that long."
"Sir, if my friend were to pay for the boots upfront, could you have them delivered to another location?"
"Oh, yes sir! We do mail order sales all the time."
"Well, could you have them shipped to Red Rock, Montana, in care of Mr. Thaddeus Jones?"
"Yes, of course. Come up to the register and we'll get this all taken care of."
Ten minutes later Heyes and Kid walked out of the boot shop and headed down the street toward the saloon.
"Heyes, why are we going to Montana?" Kid asked as he slipped the receipt in his shirt pocket.
"Well, why not Montana, Kid?"
"No, don't play coy, Heyes. You've got a reason for wanting to go to Montana. Now out with it."
Heyes stopped just outside of the saloon and reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded flier and handed it to Kid.
Kid unfolded the paper and read the advertisement.
"A poker game?" he asked.
"Not just any poker game, Kid. This is a high stakes tournament. Poor players get eliminated while the good players climb the ladder. The stakes get bigger as the players dwindle."
"What's the top prize?"
Heyes smiled. "Fifteen thousand dollars."
"Fifteen thousand dollars? How long does this contest last?"
"They're estimating two full days, but it might go into three depending on how fast people get eliminated."
"And I suppose it starts a week from Thursday?"
"Not quite. It starts a week from Friday."
"And what's the entry fee?"
"Two thousand dollars."
"Heyes, where are we gonna get two thousand dollars?"
"That my friend, is a question for the ages, Kid."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"It means I don't know yet. Come on Kid, let's get some lunch."
"You're paying, cause I just spent my last dime on them boots."
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After the daily lunch special at the cafe, Heyes and Curry headed to the saloon for a beer and a little Saturday afternoon poker.
"What's your poison, boys?" the bartender asked.
"Just a couple of beers," Kid replied.
Turning their backs to the bar, they saw three tables of poker. They stayed at the bar and watched the activity until two players got up from a table, having lost as much money as they were willing to part with. Heyes and Kid picked up their beers and headed across the room..
"In need of a couple of more players?" Heyes asked with a smile.
"If you're willing to lose your money, we're willing to include you in the game. Name's Clyde Cunningham, and this is Ed Billings, and George Hirshey."
Heyes and Kid each slid into an empty chair at the table. "I'm Joshua Smith, and this is Thaddeus Jones. What game are you playing?"
"Just plain Draw Poker," Cunningham said and shuffled the cards before dealing them out to each player.
Each player studied the cards in his hand and tossed his ante onto the center of the table.
Beginning with the man to the dealer's right, and working clockwise around the table, Ed was the first to enter a wager. "I call," he said and tossed his coins into the pile.
"Fold," George replied.
"Call," Kid said, adding his money to the pot.
"I'll call," Heyes replied, "and raise the bet to two dollars."
Cunningham turned to Ed. "How many cards?" he asked.
"Three," Ed replied.
"Thaddeus?" Cunningham asked.
"Two," Kid replied and tossed his two discarded cards in the dealer's direction.
"Mr. Smith?"
"No need to be so formal, " Heyes replied with a smile. "And just one."
With the second round of betting Ed also folded."
"I'll see your two dollars, Joshua, and raise you, three dollars."
Heyes matched Kid's bet. "I call."
Kid smiled and laid his cards face up on the table. "Three tens," he said.
"Three tens? Sorry Thaddeus, afraid that's not quite good enough," Heyes replied and laid his cards on the table for all to see. "A straight."
The game continued in much the same manner throughout the afternoon and into the early evening. Despite the enticement of some higher stakes poker as the evening progressed, Heyes and Kid opted for a late supper and an early night's sleep.
"How much did you end up with, Heyes?" Kid asked as he sat on the edge of the bed to pull off his boots.
"Two hundred and twelve dollars. How about you?"
"A hundred and ninety-seven. How much did you say you need for the buy in at that big game in Montana?" Kid asked, shedding his clothing down to his long johns and Henley and slipping in between the covers of his bed.
"Two thousand dollars," Heyes replied and sat down in the chair to remove his boots.
"And between us we got around four hundred. Far cry from two thousand."
Heyes stood to unfasten his pants but stopped before his hands reached the buttons. "Kid, I've got it!"
Kid lifted his head from the pillow to look at his partner. "Got what?"
"The way to get the two thousand dollar buy in."
"How?' Kid asked skeptically.
"Why, an old friend," Heyes replied with a smile.
"Heyes, the last time you tried borrowing money from Silky, it almost cost us thirty thousand dollars," Kid warned.
"Not talking about Silky, Kid."
"And we've asked Soapy for more than enough favors," Kid reminded his partner.
"Not Soapy, either."
Kid thought for a moment as their wealthy friends were few and far between. "Oh no! Not Big Mac!
"Big Mac might be an option, but I've got someone else in mind, Kid. Someone who loves the sport of gambling."
Again Kid thought for a moment. "Heyes, not..."
"Yep, Kid. Diamond Jim Guffy. He loves to gamble. He travels half way across the country to attend them big name horse races. Kid, two thousand dollars is pocket change to Diamond Jim."
"And he likely wants to keep it in his pocket, Heyes!"
"Well, we won't know that until we ask him, now will we?"
Kid closed his eyes, groaned, and let his head drop back on his pillow.
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Just east of Mill Valley, California, and overlooking the San Francisco Bay, Mount Tamalpais rises over two thousand feet above sea level. Diamond Jim Guffy's magnificent thoroughbred race horse ranch sits near the top of this mountain, surrounded by wilderness, and overlooking not only the ocean, but the city of San Francisco as well.
Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry arrived in the city of Mill Valley just ten days before the poker tournament in Montana. The town was small enough that everyone knew his neighbor, and all knew of Diamond Jim.
"Jim Guffy? He lives about four and a half miles west of here, near the top of the mountain. It's an easy ride with a good but winding road. The only lane you'll come across leads to the Diamond Star Ranch," the bartender told them when they stopped for a drink and directions. "You boys friends of Diamond Jim, or looking for work?"
"We're friends. We go way back," Heyes explained.
"Cause there's plenty of ranches in the valley if you're looking for work."
"No work, " Kid said. "Just here to see an old friend."
"Well, not even an hour's ride from here," the bartender said.
"Obliged," Kid replied.
After finishing their beers, Heyes and Kid returned to their saddles and followed the winding road up the mountain.
"I'll say one thing, he's got a pretty impressive view," Heyes said, turning in his saddle to gaze at the ocean below them.
"You figured out what your gonna say to Diamond Jim to convince him to loan you the money?" Kid asked.
"Not a word, Kid. But I'm sure it will all come to me when the time's right."
"I wonder about that silver tongue of yours sometimes, Heyes. But I do admire both your optimism and your confidence."
"Well, Diamond Jim is both a gambler and a businessman. He knows a sound opportunity when he hears one."
"Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of, Heyes."
They reached the lane that led them more than half a mile further into the wilderness, but when the ranch came into view, Kid and Heyes both pulled their horses to a stop just to take in the site. Acres had been cleared and were now plush meadows with white board fencing bordering the meadows as far as the eyes could see. Six Thoroughbred horses grazed in the meadows.
The house itself was a two story split log home with joint seams. A lower level porch surrounded three sides, and a large second story balcony stretched the full width of the house, offering awe inspiring views of San Francisco and the ocean bay.
A stable, constructed with a river rock foundation and plank board walls and a tin roof, was nearly twice as large as the house.
"For a man that made a living flimflamming Heyes, all I can say is, where did we go wrong?"
"The difference is, we didn't save our money, Kid, and we didn't invest it."
"Well, if you win that prize money, we're gonna think hard about what to do with it."
"That prize money wouldn't even begin to touch a place like this, Kid."
"Maybe not, but it could buy me a place I'd be satisfied with."
They urged their horses forward and came to a stop near the hitching post in front of the house. Dismounting, they gave each other a glance and, coming to the same conclusion, left their bed rolls and saddle bags on their horses. Both men then brushed off as much as they could of the travel dust that clung to their clothing and hats.
"Well, boys, come on in," Diamond Jim said as he held the screen door open for them.
"As big as this place is, I'd of figured you have at least a half a dozen servants," Heyes said when he reached the porch.
Diamond Jim laughed. "No, only three, but I assumed you would prefer to maintain a low profile, so I sent one to town to do some shopping, and gave the other two the day off."
"I knew you were well off Jim, but I never imagined," Kid said as his eyes swept as much of the interior as was visible from the foyer.
"I keep telling you Kid, the two of you need to start making some sound investments that will take care of you in your twilight years. Now, follow me to the Study and I'll pour us all a brandy."
Once in the Study, which had a huge picture window looking out to the meadows, Diamond Jim motioned for the boys to sit down while he went to the bar to pour them each a brandy.
"Now, your telegram stated you had a proposition for me," Jim said as he handed them each a snifter. "What kind of proposition?"
"A financial proposition," Heyes replied.
"I see. So the two of you want money in exchange for what?" Jim asked as he too found a comfortable chair to sit down.
"In exchange for a profitable return on that money. You're a gambler Jim, a risk taker."
"I only gamble or take risks with money I can afford to lose. Just how much do the two of you think you can afford to lose?"
Heyes looked nervously at Kid.
"Heyes?" Jim prompted.
"Two thousand dollars."
With all his wealth, Diamond Jim did not consider two thousand dollars a lot of money, but he knew Heyes and Curry did not share that same view. "On what?" he asked.
"It's the price of a buy in to a poker tournament in Red Rock, Montana a week from Friday," Heyes confessed.
"Not to be unkind Heyes, but in your position, is a two thousand dollar gamble a wise financial investment?"
"You ever seen Heyes play poker?" Kid asked. "Why Heyes once won twenty thousand dollars from Doc Holiday in Tombstone."
"And what happened to that twenty thousand dollars, Kid?" Jim asked.
Kid started to speak, then paused as his eyes moved sideways toward his partner.
"I lost it back to him," Heyes confessed.
"In order to keep Sheriff Wyatt Erp from arresting the two of us," Kid added.
"A sound investment must have the potential for a profitable gain," Jim told them. "What is my profitable gain potential?"
"First place winner gets fifteen thousand dollars. We'll give you...ten percent of the winnings," Heyes offered.
"In addition to the two thousand you would own me?"
"That's right," Heyes replied. "You'd get a total of thirty-five hundred dollars."
"If you win," Diamond Jim corrected.
"Well, there is a science to poker Jim, and I'm one of the country's top scientists."
"And just what makes you so special?" Jim asked.
Heyes smiled. "The very fact that I know the science of poker. Not many players do. I don't rely on the odds of probability, Jim. I rely on mathematics."
"How can you possibly count cards in poker?"
"Oh, I don't count cards. What I count on is money and...my keen ability to read another fella's face. Just how careful or how frivolous a man bets, and the look in his eyes when he does that, tells me everything I need to know."
"And if that don't work, Heyes ill resort to counting cards. He is very good at poker, Jim," Kid added.
"Let's suppose you don't win, when and how do I get reimbursed?"
"If I lose, you give me say...three months, and I'll have your money, the whole two thousand, in your hand."
"Like I said, an investment is not sound unless the return is sound. I'll loan you the two thousand dollars, Heyes, but only if my return is a guaranteed thirty-five hundred, win. I'm assuming there's a second and third place prize?"
"Five thousand for second place and two thousand for third," Heyes told him.
"Then I get my original investment back and...,we'll stick with ten percent for first, second, or third place." Diamond Jim insisted.
Heyes gave this some brief thought. "Deal," he replied, and saw Kid's jaw drop.
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They rode into Red Rock, Montana the morning the tournament was to begin. Registration closed at noon and the tournament was to begin at six o'clock sharp. They tied their horses to the post outside the saloon and Heyes went in to register while Kid made his way down the street to the post office to see if his boots had arrived.
Returning to the saloon a few minutes later with a large package tucked under his arm, Kid reached a hand out to push open the bat wing door, just as Heyes was coming out Knocking him slightly off balance, Kid took several backward steps, coming to a stop at the edge of the boardwalk.
"Ah, I see your boots arrived," Heyes said.
"I was going to go inside and sit down to try em on for size," Kid said indignantly and sat down on the boardwalk and began unwrapping the package.
Opening the box and peering inside, a puzzled look crossed Kid's face. He reached in and pulled out one of the boots. "Heyes, I told that man I wanted a low heel. This boot ain't got no heel at all!"
Still standing, and now leaning against a post, Heyes looked down at the boot in his partner's hand. "It does look more like a calf high moccasin. All it needs is a bit of fringe," Heyes said with some amusement.
"And I told him a light tan. This is...is...what color is this?"
"Maybe a dull gray? No, more like a charcoal ash kind of color."
"Whatever it is, it ain't what I paid for!"
"Well Kid, you could send them back, or hold on to em and we could take em back after the tournament."
"We gotta go back to San Francisco after the tournament so you can pay Diamond Jim!"
"Well, maybe try them on, Kid. Once they are on your feet, you might find they ain't as bad as they look fresh outta the box," Heyes suggested.
Kid grumbled but pulled off his old boots and pulled on the new ones. He then stood up and took a few steps down the boardwalk.
"How do they feel?"
Kid grinned. "Heyes, you know how much boots hurt if you have to walk in them for any length of time?"
"Yeah."
Kid shook his head and smiled. "Theses don't. I bet I could walk ten miles in these boots!"
"So you can put up with the color, and the fact there ain't no heel?"
"Put up with em? I'm never going back to the old style," Kid exclaimed.
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Heyes and Kid ate an early supper before arriving at the saloon about an hour before the tournament was to begin. A large, semi-private room had been roped off and five large poker tables were evenly spaced about the room. A long, red, cord was used to rope off the area and only registered players and the men there to settle any disputes were permitted beyond the rope. Players were informed that a fifteen minute break would be allotted every four hours but again, no interaction with non contestants was permitted.
Several chairs were lined up on the spectator side of the saloon and Kid ordered a beer and settled into one of those chairs to watch the event.
Mr. Henry Stottermen, the spokesman for the event stood on the tournament side of the rope, but spoke to both the players and the spectators.
"Welcome to our third annual poker tournament. Rules are simple. We have a total of twenty-five contestants this year, so we will be running five tables. Each player is given one half of the registration fee to make their bets. When a player's money runs out, that player is eliminated from the tournament. Players will be escorted to an active table as the number of contestants dwindles. If a player is found to be cheating, that player is automatically eliminated. If a player breaks the rules and interacts with a spectator or any other person not within the tournament cordoned area, that player is automatically eliminated. When we are down to three players, the one with the most money in front of him wins the grand prize of fifteen thousand dollars. Second place wins five thousand and third place wins two thousand. There's a fifteen minute break every four hours, and a half hour breakfast and dinner break each day. Other than that, play is continuous until the winners are determined."
Sitting in the second row of the spectator section, Kid settled in for a long evening. By four in the morning, the contest was down to eighteen players and Heyes had a sizable stack of money on the table. Confident that his partner would not soon be eliminated, Kid slipped out of the saloon and up to their hotel room where he planned to get at least a few hours of sleep.
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Kid was awake by six thirty the next morning and, after a having breakfast at the hotel, he headed back to the saloon, bought a cup of coffee, and slid into an empty seat in the front row of spectators. Doing a quick head count, Kid discovered another three players had exited the tournament during the few hours of his absence.
Kid leaned across an empty seat to the man sitting nearest him. "How did they lose three players in three hours?" he whispered.
"Two fellas ran out of money. Jim Prichard was caught cheating, dealing seconds is what he was doing, and none too good at it. I could see it plain as day."
"I take it you know some of these players?" Kid whispered.
"There's a couple of locals. Most everybody else is from outta town."
"What do you know about that well dressed fella in the black suit and gray vest, with the silver band on his hat?" Kid asked quietly.
"Name's Bret Maverick. I hear he's a gambler by trade. You can't read his cards by the look on his face. Always appears very relaxed. Seems real friendly to the other players. He's got a good chance of winning this tournament."
"You been here all night?"
"Yeah. I don't miss a minute of this."
"My friend is the fella at table three with the hole in his hat. How's he been doing?"
"He plays like Maverick does. Not too aggressive. Cordial, and you can't read him. I'd say he's got a chance at winning, too."
Kid smiled, not only at the man's opinion of Heyes' ability, but by the fact the man could not read his face. Kid on the other hand, was very good at reading his partner's face, and he could tell that Heyes was feeling confident.
By late in the afternoon, they were now down to ten players and just two tables of poker. Heyes and Maverick had not yet played a hand at the same table. When a fifteen minute break was called, Kid took the opportunity to dart across the street to the telegraph office to send Diamond Jim a brief update.
Saturday evening lost no players and by midnight, Kid again retired to the hotel to sleep. Returning at four on Sunday morning, the tournament was down to seven players, all now sharing one table. Slipping into a front row seat, Kid happened to catch Heyes' eye. The subtle look Heyes gave him, told Kid that Heyes remained quite confident of the outcome of the tournament. But his eyes did dart in the direction of Bret Maverick, thus telling Kid this was the man to be beaten. Kid offered no visible indication of a response, fearing Heyes would be disqualified for trying to communicate with a spectator, but he did pay almost as close attention to Maverick as he did to Heyes.
Surprisingly, by sunrise, two more players had been eliminated, both having risked it all on hands they were erroneously confident could not be beaten. Heyes had been the winner of one of those hands, while Maverick had won the other. Judging by the stacks of money in front of Heyes and Maverick, there could not have been more than a couple of hundred dollars difference in the two men's winnings.
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Noon Sunday found the table down to four players, all of whom were very skilled at the game. Kid knew as well as the players that the way to eliminate the final player lay in both high stakes bets without fully depleting one's funds, and the fine art of bluffing. Knowing his partner well, Kid knew Heyes was skillful in both areas and, having watched Maverick for two full days, he knew the same was true of that man.
Kid ordered a beer and settled in for a long afternoon. He watched as the Dealer Button was placed in front of Bret Maverick who shuffled the deck three times, then set the deck on the table and motioned to the man on his right to cut the deck. Maverick then picked up the deck, but stopped just shy of dealing out the cards.
"To be fair, gentlemen, I'd like to pass the Dealer Button to Mr. Stottermen to dole out cards and finish this round, that is of course if there are no objections?"
The other three players all agreed and a chair was brought to the table for the new dealer.
Each player studied the cards in his hand and, beginning with the man on Maverick's right, each player's ante was placed in the center of the table. Maverick, being the last to ante in, was keenly aware of Heye's ante of two hundred dollars which was a hundred dollars more than the first two player's ante. This told Maverick that Heyes felt he had a good hand, and he intended to bring the tournament to an end.
Maverick gave his own hand a second study. "I'll ante three hundred," he said, placing his money on the table.
Mr. Winfred the player to Maverick's right looked at the stack of money in front of him. He had well under one thousand dollars. He put three hundred dollars into the center. "I call," Mr. Winfred replied.
The next player had more money in reserve than the first, but far less than Heyes or Maverick. He too placed three hundred into the bet. "I call," he replied.
Heyes smiled but said nothing as he looked at his cards. In his hand he held a Queen, Jack, Ten, Nine, and Seven, all in the suit of Hearts. "Five hundred."
This peaked Kid's attention and he uncrossed his legs and sat up straight in his chair, watching the players very carefully.
"Well, Mr. Smith. You ante in like you have a strong hand," Maverick said."Now I'm a man that likes a challenge so, five hundred" and laid his money in the center of the table.
"How many cards would you like?" Stottermen asked Winfred whose money was nearly depleted.
"Three," he replied and tossed three cards from his hand toward the dealer who then dealt him three new cards.
The dealer looked at the next man questioningly. "Mr. Gaskill?"
Gaskill shook his head. "I'm good," he said.
Heyes raised his eyebrows to the man sitting to his left who had opted not to exchange any cards.
"That sounds like a strong hand," Heyes said, then looked at the dealer. "One."
Maverick chuckled. "Sounds like a couple of strong hands at the table. None," he told the dealer.
"Wagers, gentlemen," the dealer said.
"Three hundred," the man sliding all his remaining cash to the center of the table. "Call."
"Mr. Gaskill?" Stottermen asked.
"I'll see your three hundred and raise the bet two hundred."
"Mr. Smith?
Heyes took one final look at the cads in his hand and met the previous man's wager. "Call."
Reading the players hands by the wagers they had made, Maverick too met the previous wager. "Call," he declared.
Mr. Winfred?" Stottlemen said and waited for Winfred to show his hand.
"A pair is all I got."
Mr. Gaskill laid his cards face up on the table. "A full house," he said revealing three Jacks and two Aces."
"Mr. Smith?" the dealer asked.
Heyes frowned and shook his head and laid his five nonconsecutive Hearts on the table. " Flush," he replied.
Kid slumped back in his chair and shook his head.
"And Mr. Maverick?" the dealer asked.
"Maverick smiled. "I can see where you would put some high hopes on the cards in your hand, Mr. Smith. A shame Lady Luck didn't come through with the correct Heart card for you." Maverick then laid his cards on the table for all to see. "Straight flush," he said with a smile.
Mr. Stottermen stood to address both the players and the spectators. "This year's poker tournament has come to a end and we are proud to announce Mr. Bret Maverick the first place winner. He will receive the fifteen thousand dollars. Mr. Henry Gaskill is the second place winner receiving five thousand dollars, and Mr. Joshua Smith is the third place winner receiving two thousand dollars. We would like to thank all our players and spectators, and we hope to see you all back here again next year."
The four players at the table all exchanged hand shakes before slowly dispersing to meet friends or to tend to other necessities such as a drink or a meal.
Heyes found his way to his partner who had plenty to say, but was wise enough to wait till they were back at the hotel.
"I got a bottle of whiskey back in the room. Thought you might be needing a drink by the time this was over," Kid told him.
"Thanks, Kid. I am pretty tired.
"No doubt. You ain't slept in two nights."
"I came this close," Heyes said holding his thumb and first finger so close you could barely see the space between them.
"We'll talk about it in the morning," Kid replied and placed an arm about Heyes' shoulders to lead him out of the saloon.
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"Two thousand dollars," Kid said after they returned from breakfast the next morning. "That just leaves us two hundred shy of what we owe Diamond Jim."
"I know," Heyes replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed with his hands resting on his knees.
Kid wanted to scold his partner, but he knew as well as Heyes they had simply taken a chance and lost. So instead he sat down heavily in a chair and crossed one leg over a knee. Neither spoke and Kid knew he and Heyes were both thinking the same thing which was how to come up with the two hundred additional dollars they owed Diamond Jim. Heyes stared at his hands while Kid stared absently at his new boots.
Kid slowly began shaking his head and the corners of his mouth turned up in a bit of a grin.
Heyes just happened to look up at his partner and he looked at him questioningly. "What's so funny?" he asked.
"Us," Kid replied.
"What about us?"
Kid was smiling now. "You ever noticed Heyes, that nothing we ever do turns out they way we had it planned? Like me and these boots and you and your poker tournament. Good intentions just don't guarantee the best outcome."
Heyes smiled. "I think you might be on to something, Kid."
A knock on their door brought the conversation to an abrupt end.
"Who is it?" Heyes called out.
"Bret Maverick," came the answer from the other side of the door.
Heyes looked at Kid and both shrugged as Heyes walked over to the door and opened it.
"What brings you here, Mr. Maverick?"
Maverick offered a charming smile. "May I come in, Mr. Smith?"
"Oh, sure," Heyes said and opened the door and stepped back. "Mr. Maverick, this is my partner Thaddeus Jones," Heyes explained as he shut the door.
"Please, call be Bret. That's the name my friends use. It helps to distinguish me from my brother, Bart,"
Heyes chuckled politely. "Is there something I can do for you, Bret?"
Maverick shook his head. "I'll be leaving on the afternoon stage and didn't want to go without telling you how much I enjoyed playing poker with you. I think you're one of the finest players I've ever come across"
"Well, thank you, Bret, although I'm not sure third place should put me in that category."
Maverick smiled. "My grandpappy always said you should never trust a man by what he's done, but rather by how he's done it."
"That's true," Kid added. Why this isn't the first high stakes game Joshua has dropped. I could tell you stories about him playing with Big Mac McCreedy and even Doc Holiday..."
"Holiday, uh? I've played with Doc a time or two. Interesting player. Colorful character. But I find the company he keeps a bit too dangerous for my blood. Do you plan on entering the tournament next year, Joshua?" Bret asked.
"Oh, I haven't really given that any thought yet," Heyes confessed.
"No, we're running outta friends willing to stake him," Kid chided and Heyes shot him a bit of a glare."
Maverick just laughed. "I remember those days. So, you really didn't make a profit in this tournament," Maverick concluded.
"Ah, no sir. Just about two hundred dollars in the hole, as a matter of fact," Heyes confessed.
"I tell you what, you've got an entire year to come up with the entry fee. If you swear to me that you'll be back next year, I'll spot you that two hundred dollars. You can pay me back at the next tournament," Maverick said, reaching into his vest pocket for his wallet."
"Oh, I can't take your money Bret. There's no telling if we'll ever meet up again."
Again Maverick chuckled, but continued to count out two hundred dollars. "I'll think of it as a contribution to a good cause, but do try to return next year," he said and held the money out for Heyes to accept.
Heyes glanced at Kid who nodded encouragingly and Heyes relented and took the money in his hand. "I don't know when I can repay you, but I do thank you."
"Yes, you saved us both from a very loud and lengthy lecture on the value of a dollar," Kid added.
"Well, my stage will be leaving soon," Maverick said as he headed for the door. "A real pleasure, Mr. Smith."
When the door shut, and Maverick was on his way, Heyes turned to Kid and smiled. "Now there went one of the finest men I think I've ever met," Heyes said.
"He is a right friendly sort," Kid agreed.
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"Heyes, what in the world made you think you were gonna get the eight of Hearts with just a one card trade?" Kid asked as he and his partner rode slowly back toward San Francisco.
"You ain't gonna make this the topic of conversation for the entire four day ride, are you Kid?"
"Likely will till I get an honest answer," Kid replied.
"An honest answer is all you want?"
"Yep," Kid said, nodding his head.
"I did it for you, Kid."
"What! For me? How was that for me?"
"Kid, I kept an eye on you throughout that tournament and you never got more than three or four hours of sleep at a time. Now you and I both know you need a lot more sleep than that. Why, in that last round, I looked over and saw you sitting there with those bloodshot eyes, and I knew what I had to do."
"You're telling me that you forfeited a chance at fifteen thousand dollars just so I could get some sleep?"
"That's right."
"Heyes, if that's your idea of an honest answer, this is going to be a very long and unpleasant ride."
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Author's Note: Twenty-three dollars in the1880s was the equivalent of a little over three hundred dollars today. Cowboy boots in the 1800s cost anywhere from twenty to fifty dollars, depending on the style and decoration. $15,000 in the 1880s would be worth a little over $403,000 today. Had Heyes won the tournament, he and Kid likely could have given Diamond Jim a run for his money as they would be very nearly as wealthy as he.