"TXT - Louis L'Amour - Fallon" - читать интересную книгу автора (L'Amour Louis)The trouble in Seven Pines had been none of his own making. It has been written
that while Man proposes, God disposes; but when Macon Fallon joined that poker game he had no idea he was sitting in on an invitation to death. He had money, a good horse, and time for a leisurely ride south. The poker game was merely a means to endure a dull evening in a strange town; whether he won or lost was unimportant. His mood was pleasant, his prospects excellent, and the future looked good indeed, yet when he drew back that chair at the poker table, he sat down to trouble. The game began innocently enough. He won a small pot, lost two.... As the evening progressed he drew no very interesting cards. By midnight he was winner to the tune of six silver dollars, and was ready to turn in. At that moment, destiny took a hand. Now, Fallon was a man who could do things with cards. He could, while shuffling, run up a top stock or a bottom stock; he could shift the cut, deal from the top or the bottom, or second-deal; and he knew all about slick aces, marked or trimmed cards, shiners, mirrors in pipe-bowls or match boxes, and the tiny pricks on finger rings for the purpose of marking cards. Sleeve and belt holdouts were no mystery to him, and he knew all about the man who brings drinks or sandwiches to the table with a cold deck held underneath the tray ready for a switch. In short, Macon Fallon was a professional; and although usually honest, he was not above cheating the cheaters if they invited it. On this night he was playing a fair game, and was not especially interested in winning. Suddenly he was dealt an ace, another ace, and a third one. He very satisfactory, and no comment was made. The following hand he received two sevens and a pair of jacks, then drew a third seven. Once more the pot was a pleasant one; and a player named Collins, a popular man locally, gave him a long, careful look and commented, "You are lucky tonight." "I think I'll turn in," Fallon said, stifling a yawn. "I've a long ride tomorrow." Collins glanced at him. "You have a good deal of our money. Better give us a chance to win it back." "Two more hands then," Fallon agreed. "I'm dead tired." Instinct warned that he should get out while the getting was good, but even as he spoke the deal was progressing. It was with relief that he picked up two fours. He would lose this hand, then he would quit. He contributed liberally to the pot, and on the draw he picked up the other two fours. Four of a kind ... Recognizing his dismay, they misunderstood its reason. Promptly, they began to raise, and Macon Fallon was not a man to look gift horses in the teeth, nor will any gambler in his right mind betray his luck. Besides, there was a poem he recalled, a poem that went something like this: If he play, being young and unskillful, For shekels of silver and goldЧ Take his money, my son, praising Allah, The lad was ordained to be sold. |
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