William Johnstone - Thunder of Eagles

Falcon suppressed a smile. At that moment, the man Prentiss had identified as Deke Mathers came over to the table. This was the same man Cletus had spoken to when he went to the bar to buy his beer.

“Mr. MacCallister, is it true they’s a whole town named just after you?” Deke asked.

“It’s not named after me,” Falcon replied. “It was named after my father.”

Cletus watched Deke engage Falcon in conversation. This was by design, for Cletus wanted Falcon’s attention diverted away from the three cards just for a moment.

With Falcon’s head turned, Cletus reached across the table and put a small, barely noticeable crease on one corner of the ace. Let Falcon switch the cards around all he wanted, Cletus would make no attempt whatever to follow them. He would simply select the card with the creased corner.

“You going to play cards, or are you going to talk all day?” Cletus asked.

Falcon turned back to the table. “Why, I’m going to play cards, Mr. Clinton,” Falcon said, smiling easily.

“Good,” Cletus said. “Only, this time, let’s bet enough for me to get even.” He put a ten dollar bill on the table.

“That’s a pretty steep bet for a little friendly game like this, isn’t it?” Falcon asked.

“If it’s too rich for you, just say so,” Cletus said.

Falcon drummed his fingers on the card table for a moment. By now, several other patrons of the saloon had wandered over to the table, and what had started out as a quiet, two-man game was quickly turning into a spectator sport.

“So, what are you going to do, Mr. MacCallister?” Cletus asked. “Are you going to play or not?”

“I’ll play,” Falcon said, reaching into his own pocket to bring out a ten dollar bill to match the bet.

Cletus took one last look at the creased card. So far, Falcon hadn’t noticed it.

“Hey, I’m bettin’ Cletus gets it this time,” Deke said, putting a dollar down on the table.

“You’re on,” someone said.

“I’ll bet on Cletus.”

“I’m bettin’ on MacCallister.”

Within a few moments, there were several dollars in side bets on the table, and by now, nearly everyone in the house was aware of the game.

Falcon picked up the three cards, shuffled them around a few times, then put the cards down on the table. He started moving them around, in and out, over and under with such lightning speed that the cards were nearly a blur. Then he stopped and the three cards lay in front of him, waiting for Cletus to pick the ace.

With a smug smile, Cletus reached across the table to make his selection. Then suddenly, he froze in mid-motion and the smile left his face. He hand hung suspended over the table.

“Go on, Cletus, pick out the ace. You can do it,” Deke said.

Cletus stared at the three cards with a sickly expression on his face. All three cards now bore that same creased corner. Falcon had not only seen it, he had, somehow, managed to duplicate it on the other cards with such exactness that Cletus had no idea which card he had marked.

Falcon reached across the table and put his hand on Cletus’s shoulder, using his thumb to lift the vest away, ever so slightly.

“Is there something wrong?” Falcon asked. “You look a little piquèd.”

Cletus glared at Falcon. Irritated, he pushed Falcon’s hand away from his shoulder, then reached down to turn up one of the cards.

The card he turned up was a jack.

“Damn!” he said.

There was a collection of cheers and groans from the others around the table, many of whom had their own bets riding on the outcome.

“I guess I’m just lucky,” Falcon said as he reached for the money.

“No, wait a minute!” Cletus said. “I don’t believe the ace is even on the table.”

“Sure it is, I’ll show you,” Falcon offered. He started to reach for one of the cards.

“Wait a minute, I’ll turn it over,” Cletus said. “For all I know you have an ace palmed. You can make it appear anywhere you want.”

“All right, you turn it over.” Cletus reached for the card Falcon had started for and flipped it over. It was the ace.

“He got you there, Cletus,” one of the men in the crowd said.

“Oh, and Mr. Clanton, as far as my being able to make an ace appear anywhere, why don’t you check your shirt pocket?” Falcon said.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Check your shirt pocket,” Falcon repeated. “Under your vest.”

Cletus opened his vest and stuck his hand down into his shirt pocket.

“What the hell is this?” he asked, coming out with a card. There, in his hand, was the ace of hearts. “How did that get there?”

The others in the saloon laughed uproariously as Falcon picked up the money.

It was a sullen and subdued Cletus who returned to the table where Deke and Lou were sitting.

“How’d he do that, Boss?” Lou asked.

“How’d he do what?”

“Get that ace in your pocket like that?”

“How the hell do I know?” Cletus replied angrily. “He’s a card cheat, that’s how. That’s how he got that card in my pocket, and that’s how he won.”

“I’ll say this for him. He sure is good at it,” Deke said.

“He’s a cheat,” Cletus insisted. “There ain’t nothin’ good about bein’ a cheat.”

“No, sir, you’re right about that,” Lou said. “There ain’t nothin’ good about bein’ a cheat.”

“Drink up, boys. Like I told you, tonight it’s all on me,” Cletus said.

“Damn, that’s real good of you, Boss,” Deke said.

“Yeah, I’ve worked for other men who’ve bought me a drink,” Lou said. “But I ain’t never worked for no one who was willin’ to buy drinks all night long.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please?” Corey Hampton shouted. He held up his hands in a call for quiet. “May I have your attention, please?”

There were dozens of conversations ongoing at that moment, most of them dealing with the mystery as to how Falcon MacCallister was able to get the ace into Cletus’s shirt pocket. Those conversations fell quiet at Corey’s call for attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Corey repeated.

“What ladies?” Cletus called out. “They ain’t nothin’ but whores in here. There ain’t no ladies.”

There were a few nervous chuckles at Cletus’s comment, but no general laughter.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Corey said again, this time putting a lot of emphasis on the word “ladies.”

“The Golden Nugget is pleased to present for your listening pleasure this evening, Miss Rachael Kirby!”

There was a round of applause as Rachael took her place at the piano, then began playing Chopin’s Sonata Opus 58.

Cletus pointed to the piano player. “You know what I think? I think that girl would make a good whore. Fact is, she’d make a better whore than she would a piano player. What kind of music do you call that shit she’s playin’ right now? Hell, you can’t even sing along with it.”

“Some folks like that kind of music,” Deke said.

“Yeah, well, I don’t.”

“Shhh!” someone at the adjacent table said. “Why don’t you folks be quiet so the rest of us can hear?”

Cletus glared at the man who had shushed him, but he said nothing. Instead, he just took a drink of his whiskey.

As Rachael played, she was aware that Falcon MacCallister was in the saloon as well, and she was unable to shake his presence. She had heard about him from Rosanna and Andrew, but they had left out how handsome he was. Maybe because he was their brother, they had lost all perspective. She knew that he had been married, and she knew also that his wife was dead. What she didn’t know was whether or not he would be interested in ever being married again.