Read Online Come Sundown by Mike Blakely - Free Book Online Page A

deep enough to keep them that way. Sheffield cut the deck, but I returned it. He watched me like a hawk, but didn’t catch my sleight of hand.

    From the bottom of the deck, I dealt the gambler an ace. Blue: the two of diamonds. I took something off the top for myself. It didn’t matter what. Blue was going to win this hand, not me. To Sheffield, I dealt a second ace from the bottom. Blue: the three of diamonds. Again, I took my card from the top. Now, I dealt the rest of Sheffield’s hand, and mine, from the top. Whenever I gave Blue a card, it came from the bottom, and he got the makings for a straight flush—the two through the six of diamonds. Now, even if Sheffield could produce four aces, Blue would win. We looked at our cards and bet, driving the wagers high.
    Sheffield asked for one card, though I knew he didn’t need it. I knew Blue needed nothing, but I looked at him as if I knew nothing of the kind. He just stared at his hand.
    â€œBlue?” I said.
    â€œJust a minute. I’m thinkin’.”
    I sighed.
    â€œI’ll take three cards,” he said, putting three facedown on the table.
    My heart pumped a load of dread into my stomach. What the hell was he doing? I had dealt him a perfect straight flush! But I knew I could say or do nothing other than pick up the deck and deal the three cards that would wreck this whole scheme for us. Slowly, I picked up the deck and, with much hidden regret, started to pull a card from the top.
    â€œWait,” Blue said. He retrieved his three cards and rearranged them several times in his hand. “Oh, never mind, I’ll just try my luck with these.”
    I sighed again, bigger this time, and more sincerely. I took one card for myself. My hand amounted to nothing. I didn’t even have a pair. But I bet last, and when my turn came to raise, I shoved my whole pile of gold coins into the middle of the table. “This is for the whole game,” I said. “No need to count. You can tell I’ve got more to lose than either of you. Just push in what you’ve got showing, and we’ll call the bet even.”
    Blue shoved in the small pile he had left. Sheffield hesitated a few seconds, then added his stacks of gold, which amounted to just over twenty-seven hundred dollars. You may not believe that I could keep track of that, and stack the deck for two players
at the same time, but I have mentioned, haven’t I, that I am a genius? I’m not bragging. I should apologize rather than boast. To waste my intelligence on cheating at cards is more of a shame than an honor. But it sure was fun. I was about to outcheat a cheat.
    It was up to Sheffield to show his hand first. He turned over four aces. Only two of them had come from my deck. He had pulled the other two from someplace unknown to me. “Four angels,” he said, with more than a hint of arrogance in his voice. “A heavenly quartet. There’s the hand to beat, boys.”
    I folded my hand and frowned, feigning absolute failure. “I can’t do it.”
    Totally ignoring Blue Wiggins, Sheffield reached for the pile of winnings in the middle of the table.
    â€œNot much, hombre,” said Blue.
    Sheffield froze, his hands around the pot.
    Blue began showing his cards, one at a time, placing each on the table before him ceremoniously. First the two of diamonds, then the three, four, and five. Now he paused theatrically with the last card in his left hand. He raised it high over the table. I wondered what he was doing, until I saw his right hand moving toward his holstered Colt revolver. Sheffield’s attention was fixed on the last card, his hands still around the pot that he already considered his. Blue had learned a thing or two from me about misdirection. He was ready to drop that card and cock his hammer.
    The six of diamonds fell into place on that perfect fan of cards.
    Sheffield looked at it. An enlightened glint of anger flared in his