The next seven days went by in a flash.

Billy and Jed fell into bed each night, exhausted from constantly running back and forth between the Velvet Slipper and the Denver Pike. Tucker and his gang helped whenever they weren't busy with a grift of their own, suggesting the best routes as well as indicating the safest places to hide should they encounter any trouble. Occasionally, the gang would even surprise the two boys giving them no choice but to change their route. Just as he'd feared, Jed had difficulty keeping up with Billy at first. However, as the week wore on his breathing improved and he gradually picked up speed.

Han's new-found line of work had his brain constantly buzzing. After only a few days Jenny had confidently informed Silky that her supervision was no longer required and recommended that he be given a chance to run his own table. Making a living dealing cards appealed to Han, and he easily saw himself doing just that in some high-class casino, say in San Francisco, or even aboard a Mississippi steamboat. What really tempted him, however, was the idea of becoming a professional gambler. It seemed as if he learned something new every day, not about cards, but the people who played them. His sharp eyes recognised their individual tells and his calculating brain could effortlessly work out the odds. With his outgoing personality and winning smile, he would surely be a likeable winner at any gaming table.

Despite the long hours, the boys quickly adapted to the daily routine; what took them a little longer to get to grips with was their benefactor's somewhat mercurial personality. Silky would sometimes shut himself away in the office for days on end, not speaking to the staff or fraternising with any of the customers unless it couldn't be avoided. There were also times when he would appear upbeat in the morning, whistling cheerfully and tipping his hat amiably at passers-by as he walked to The Row, only to become withdrawn and moody again by the end of the day. Initially this had been a cause for concern, but as time went on it felt normal. You just had to take him as you found him.

It was on one of these upbeat mornings when even the presence of Titus Flyte's bulky frame blocking the open doorway of the Velvet Slipper, failed to dampen his spirits.

"Good morning, my good man!" Silky swept his hat from his head with a mock bow. "What brings you here at such an early hour?"

"Mert sent me," growled Titus.

"Wonderful! We'll talk in the office. Kid, Billy, come with me."

Unlike Hannibal, Titus wasn't very good at reading people. Having been the object of the saloon owner's caustic tongue on numerous occasions he found Silky's unusually friendly demeanour confusing, so that when Silky shooed him out of the way with a flick of his hand, he unwittingly stepped to one side allowing them all to pass. Recovering quickly he followed on, a predatory snarl on his face. His brother, Merton, had been very clear as to what should befall Silky should he welch on their deal, and Titus was looking forward to delivering his own brand of punishment.

Recognising a dangerous man when he saw one Han sidled up to the bar. "Who was that?" he asked Alonzo.

"Oh, he one bad hombre," replied the barman.

"Should I be worried?"

"Only if Meester Silky give heem bad news. Meester Titus, he no like bad news."

"And what would make it bad news?"

With a shrug Alonzo said simply, "Anytheen' he don't like," and went back to polishing the glass in his hand.

Han chewed pensively on his bottom lip. From what Jed had told him, he and Billy had every route to the Denver Pike committed to memory, so by all accounts there should be no bad news to deliver. Still, Han felt uneasy so he perched on the edge of a nearby chair and waited. It wasn't long before the office door opened and a scowling Titus Flyte emerged.

"Bye now," called Silky through the open door. "Thanks for stoppin' by."

Han watched the man stalk out onto the street before darting into Silky's office.

"Everything alright?" he asked.

Silky puffed out a plume of smoke from a freshly lit cigar. "Not that it's any business of yours, Hannibal, but yes, everything's fine," he answered. "Today we restart our numbers game so every plunger who sits down at your table needs to be made aware of it."

"Wouldn't a sign on the bar do that?" asked Han.

Silky sighed. "My dear boy, running numbers is illegal and we'd all be arrested if the law found out."

Han frowned. "I know that but, if it's so risky why—?"

"Because it's very profitable and keeps those goldarn Flyte brothers off my back," snapped Silky. "Now, get yourself out there and start dealin' them cards."

"But—"

"Get to work!"

"Yes, sir," mumbled Han.

Dragging his feet he made his way over to his table and flopped down into a chair. Although he enjoyed working for Silky Han was beginning to wonder what sort of trouble they had potentially got themselves into. This numbers game sounded dangerous. Apart from the risk of being thrown in jail if the law found out, a more immediate concern was Titus Flyte himself. Should anything go wrong the thought of his cousin being at the mercy of another brute made his blood run cold and his temper rise. Jed was his only living kin and he wanted to make sure it stayed that way. The murder of their families had all but destroyed Han; the ensuing years in the austere and often cruel Home for Waywards forever changing how he viewed the world. He had frequently wondered, but never asked, whether Jed felt the same. Ever since the fateful day that had changed their lives forever he had tried his best to offer a guiding hand, but the loss of Jed's parents was a void he knew he could not fill. Despite all this, Han continued to have faith that things would work out for them — eventually. Right now, however, he would apply himself to devising a way of increasing the saloon's profits so that Silky could terminate this arrangement with the Flyte brothers.

ooooo-OOO-ooooo

Later that day, Jenny stood at the bar chatting with Alonzo while observing her handsome young protégé from a distance. The three regulars leaning on the green baize appeared to be enjoying Hannibal Heyes' friendly patter and she smiled proudly as he deftly handled the chips and dealt the next hand. Suddenly her smile faded.

What was that?

None of the players showed any sign that there had been anything out of the ordinary, but it could be that only an experienced eye such as hers would catch it. Determined to get a better view of the next deal she crossed the room to stand directly behind Han.

There it was again!

Once the game was over she smoothly reached over Han's shoulder and covered the pack of cards with her fingers saying, "Sorry, gentlemen, but I have to close this table for a while."

Han looked up at her with a quizzical frown.

"Aaw, what you wanna go an' do that fer, Jenny?" complained a skinny fellow with a lazy eye and crooked front teeth. "This young fella is keepin' us right entertained."

"Yeah," agreed another. "Just a few more hands, huh?"

Jenny smiled sweetly. "Not right now, Joe, but why don't y'all come with me and have a drink on the house — to make up for closing the table early."

Amid disappointed sighs and good natured grumbles the men picked up their money and followed Jenny to the bar where she instructed Alonzo to pour them each a generous glass of whiskey.

Han was sorting the coloured chips into rows on a wooden tray when she returned. "Why'd you do that?" he demanded. "The house was doing real well."

Jenny sat down opposite him, her full lips pressed together disapprovingly. "I saw what you did."

With as much innocence as he could muster Han's brown eyes widened. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You were dealing seconds," hissed Jenny.

"But, I don't know h—"

"Don't lie to me, Hannibal. I saw you."

Han did his best to look shocked at being accused of cheating, but a misguided sense of pride in his ability to do it well prevented him from keeping up the pretence for long.

"Alright, so I dealt a few seconds," he admitted with a sigh, "but I did it for a good reason. That squint-eyed fella was winning — a lot — I just figured I'd change the odds some and get a little of the house's money back."

"Silky doesn't approve of his dealers cheating — unless he tells them to," said Jenny. "In fact, doing anything without his say-so will make him real mad. Have you ever seen him real mad?"

"Once, I guess."

"So, you know it isn't pretty. You could lose your jobs, all three of you. I've seen it happen."

At the mention of the others Han was immediately contrite. "Please don't tell him, Jenny. All I was trying to do was improve the take. I figured if there was more coming in from the tables, then maybe he would stop running numbers and Jed wouldn't have to go near the Pike."

Hearing a trace of desperation in Han's voice Jenny patted his hand. "Don't worry. I won't tell him, but if I catch you doing something like that again..."

"Oh, I won't. I promise." Han stared solemnly at the table top for a second or two before a sly smile crossed his lips. "I was good at it though, right?"

Failing to suppress a smile of her own Jenny nodded, "You're pretty slick, I'll admit that. I bet it was that ol' chiseller JT who taught you."

"We were holed up for weeks last winter. Played a lot of cards," Han explained.

"Well, I hope he also warned you of the consequences if you get caught. It don't make a scrap of difference whether you're a dealer or a player, everyone at the table will figure the money in front of you belongs to them, and they'll want to even the score — one way or another. It's a sure-fire way to end up dead."

Although Han knew Jenny was right, he also had a valid point to make.

"I know a few tricks, thanks to JT," he admitted, "but surely a good dealer needs to be able to spot a cheat and I can't do that if I don't know how they're doing it."

Han almost held his breath as Jenny mulled this over. "Okay, Hannibal," she said eventually. "This is what's going to happen. I'm going to teach you every trick I know, but only if you swear you won't use any of them while you're working here."

The delicious thought of learning more ways to finagle an opponent almost made Han's mouth water. However, one look at Jenny's serious expression made him hold up his right hand like he was taking an oath and say earnestly, "Oh, I swear."

And so, whenever they had a moment to themselves, Jenny set about teaching him how to find, extract, and hide a specific card in his palm, as well as how to stack a deck or spot a marked one. She also taught him several ways to recognise when a card sharp was present; something which he would find invaluable throughout his card playing life.