Free Wolf Creek by Ford Fargo Page A

chance to see if I can
grow these few dollars into something worthwhile.”
    Luke stepped toward the restaurant. Quint
stood for a moment in thought. Luke Short was a likeable sort; a
shame it seemed that the man bit by the gambling bug was unable to
call it quits even though he lost it all in the tournament. Despite
all the hardships of being a deputy marshal, Quint was grateful
that at least he had a salary coming in monthly and was not
dependent on the luck of the draw.
     
    End

 
    No Such Thing as Luck, Part 2
    By
    Chuck Tyrell
     
     
    The first round of the Great Wolf Creek
Poker Tournament lasted until nearly ten and ended with one winner
at each table—twelve first-round winners in all. One of those
winners was Chuck Waters.
    Ira Breedlove raised his voice. “Ladies and
gentlemen. We’ve just witnessed some of the finest card players
west of the Big Muddy. My congratulations to the winners. Now. Each
of you will deposit your chips with Harvey at the bar. We know that
each of you has five hundred dollars in chips. And don’t worry
about your buy-in money. It’s in the bank, safe and sound.”
    Samuel Jones and Ben Thompson were at Ma’s
Café when Billy Below walked in. Samuel waved him over. “Full
house, Billy. You’ll want to sit with us if you’re looking for
breakfast.”
    “Obliged, Sam. Ben. Do you mind?”
    “Help yourself,” Thompson said.
    “First round work out all right for you
all?”
    Jones chuckled. “Ben and I won our tables,
but it seems Ben’s brother Billy lost over at the Eldorado. At
least no one died during the round.” He glanced at Thompson.
“Begging your pardon, Ben, but that little brother of yours jerks
iron too often for my liking.”
    “No offense. No one knows better than me
what a hothead that boy is.”
    “What’ll it be, Billy?” Ma Adams stood next
to him with hands on hips and arms akimbo.
    “I’ll take whatever you and old Bones in the
kitchen fix,” Billy said.
    “I got ham ‘n’ bacon. Taters. Biscuits ‘n’
gravy. How’s that sound?”
    “No hen fruit?”
    “Not till tomorrow, ‘n’ you’d better be here
early if you want aigs.”
    “Just bacon, fried spuds, biscuits and gravy
then. And bring me coffee.”
    “How’s it going, lawman?” Thompson said.
    “Been pretty quiet,” Billy said. “Up all
night, like you all, so this lawman’s gonna get some shuteye soon
as I plow through that breakfast Ma and Bones’s fixing for me.”
    “Coffee,” Ma said. She put a cup down and
poured it full.
    “Obliged,” Billy said.
    “Sam? Ben?”
    Both gamblers held their cups out for
refills, then went back to their breakfasts while Billy Below
savored Ma Adams’s excellent coffee. Minutes later, he too shoveled
crisp bacon, fried potatoes, and biscuits covered with gravy into
his mouth.
    “Good grub at Ma’s,” Billy said, wiping his
mouth with the napkin Ma always provided with meals. “Like I said,
I’m gonna catch some shuteye. After noon, I’ll probably be at the
marshal’s office. Not that you’ll need me or anything.”
    The second round of the Great Wolf Creek
Poker Tournament took place in the Eldorado, where three tables
were set up for four gamblers each.
    Samuel Jones sat at the same table as Chuck
Waters. He said nothing to the diminutive man, but speared him with
a look that said, don’t try anything funny while I’m at the
table. Waters looked away.
    Nick Brant sat at a table with Ben Thompson
and two other first round winners, including the lady from Wes
Quaid’s table earlier. Brant held a smug little smile on his face
and could not help fingering the five hundred dollars in chips that
sat on the table at his right hand.
    Virgil Calhoun placed a deck of cards on
each table. “Gentlemen, cut the deck to determine who deals
first.”
    Each gambler cut the deck and showed his
card. High card dealt. The second round began.
    When it was over, shortly after midnight,
Samuel Jones, Ben Thompson, Luke Short, and Johnny Deno