Chapter 8

With the weather getting colder, Beau wondered if he really should take up the career of hunting for poker cheats. That recent experience certainly showed that there could be money in the job if he could stay as lucky as he had just been. At least it would help to keep him out of the cold wind.

Hell Hill Junction was certainly the place to find professional gamblers, so he decided to head back to give his new idea a try. One thing for sure, he had a good livery stable lined up to sleep in, so that part of his problem was solved. That damned cold wind had picked up, so he and his horse were happy to find the stout walls of their favorite livery stable. Beau verified that he was still welcome to use the hay stack for a bunk, so he stabled his horse and went for a look in the nearest saloon where there was a poker game. It turned out that was kind of a silly thought—there was at least one poker game going on in every one of the dozens of saloons in town. With that many games, somebody had to be cheating!

Beau went into the saloon and ordered a beer. He took his glass and wandered around looking for a game in progress that he might join. Naturally, he had no trouble finding games, but he did have to wait through a second beer before he could join in. This seemed to be a reasonably honest game, since Beau found that he lost some hands and won some hands in the ratio he had expected. He stayed for a while, but eventually decided that there was nothing to be gained at this table. Then it dawned on him: there was no point in cheating at a low stakes game. He was more likely to find cheating at games with a lot more money in each pot. That $2,900 he took from the last cheater certainly gave him enough of a reserve to join just about any game in town.

Beau surrendered his chair with the plea that he had to visit the jakes, and he was hardly standing before some one else had sat down in his place. Beau returned his glass to the bar and went out to the jakes. There was no one else there, so he quickly finished his business and returned to the saloon.

The next poker game he visited was one with stakes too high for most men. Beau figured that this one was much more likely to have cheating going on, so he watched the dealer very closely while he waited his turn to sit in. This pro was either very lucky or very skilled, because he was winning most of the pots. Beau watched for some time without spotting any cheating, but he felt in his gut that there had to be something nefarious going on. Then he caught on!

The pro was making way too much use of his handkerchief to wipe his face. Beau discovered that the pro kept the handkerchief in an inside pocket of his coat, and he was pulling cards from that same pocket whenever he returned the handkerchief to it. Now that he knew the scam, Beau was anxious to join the game.

It was getting toward supper time and men were dropping out of the game to find something to eat. However, the pro did not leave the table. Instead, he waved the swamper over to have him go after some sandwiches and a glass of beer, which the pro would eat while he played.

This change of players was Beau's chance to move in, and he did. Beau didn't plan to stay long with the game. He planned to be there only long enough to establish himself as a legitimate player before he exposed the cheating and how it was done.

Beau actually won the first two hands, but the pro was busy eating and did not participate in either one, other than to deal. However, those were the last two hands that Beau even had a chance of winning. Beau waited until he had dropped $100 or so before he made his move. "Gentlemen, I must tell y'all that I have spotted consistent cheating by our dealer. I think that he should return everything that he has won since I sat down, at least. What say y'all?"

The pro reacted immediately by shouting, "YA'RE A LIAR! I AIN'T NEVER CHEATED AT POKER IN MY LIFE!" He jumped back and tipped over his chair as he tried to pull a Colt Pocket Pistol from his coat pocket. Beau almost waited too long to shrug his shoulder and shoot his derringer. The pro had his gun out of his pocket and had the hammer on half-cock when the buckshot got to him. One ball caught him in the throat and two punctured his chest. Blood spurted everywhere for a short time, but soon stopped. It was obvious that the man was dead by the time Beau stood up.

Everybody in the saloon strained to see the entertainment, but nobody made any other move. It was clear that Beau had shot in self defense, as he had intended to do. Therefore, Beau was perfectly within his rights and not subject to censure.

Beau pulled his share of the gold on the table in front of the pro and left the rest of the players to divide the rest of the money. Meanwhile, Beau went to check out the professional gambler to see what he had worth taking. There was several hundred dollars in gold and silver coins loose in the man's pockets, plus he had a moneybelt that seemed to have a substantial sum inside it. Beau found nothing else he wanted, so he told the swamper that he could have whatever he could find after burial expenses had been subtracted. This would surely run over $10, so the swamper was beside himself with gratitude.

Beau pocketed the items he took from the gambler and left the saloon to find something to eat. After supper, Beau returned to the livery stable to count his loot. Between the loose money and the gold in the money belt, Beau had picked up a profit of $839 in gold and silver. It was not as much as the previous night, but significantly more than he could expect from the bounty hunter trade. Beau figured that he had done enough for one day, so he went to another saloon just to drink a couple of beers and listen to some of the gossip from a bartender.

Gambling in Hell Hill Junction ran around the clock, so Beau was able to resume his treasure hunt after breakfast. He picked a different saloon this time and went in to see what kind of action there might be. There was one draw poker game and one stud poker game going on besides the two faro games run by saloon employees. Beau stayed away from the faro games because they were always crooked and everybody knew that, but played the game anyway. It was too difficult to cheat at stud poker, so Beau had an easy choice. Either he watched the draw poker game or he went somewhere else. The cold wind was blowing, so Beau decided to hang around for a while.

Beau decided that he was really too early to find the big cheaters out of bed, yet, so he sat in on the draw poker game simply for his own amusement. He played the low stakes game for about 90 minutes and came out losing about $2. This was nothing to get him excited, but it had been fun just to play without worrying about cheating.

Beau moved on to two other saloons without finding anything to attract his interest, so he took an early lunch break. Beau had found a Mexican restaurant that served something besides beef and beans, so he went there for lunch. Two burritos and a Mexican beer were enough to hold him until supper, so he was ready to look into more saloons.

The afternoon was no better than the morning at producing a suitable target, so Beau again took a meal break. This time, Beau went to one of the more "up-scale" saloons. This saloon had three games going, any one of which had enough money changing hands to be worth cheating. Beau didn't have a chance to do a complete examination of the pro's dealing habits, but a place opened up so he took it. He figured that he could weather a warm up period while he found the scam, if any, and he was sure that there was one.

Beau was actually enjoying this game, even if it was one with a lot bigger pots than he was normally comfortable with. At first, it seemed that the flow of the game was such that no one was winning excessively—Beau even took a couple of big pots. However, after about 45 minutes, that pleasant aspect changed as one of the players, not the pro, began to take more and more of the big pots. When it first started, Beau figured that the man was just riding a lucky streak, but he won too often to keep Beau harboring this delusion. It was only three hands later that Beau figured it out: the man was in collusion with the pro.