While he pegged his points Blake suddenly laughed.
“Say, Jim,” he said, “before I forget it I want to tell you a joke on Humble. He thought it would be easy money if he taught Lee Lung how to play poker. He bothered Lee’s life out of him for several days, and finally the Chinaman consented to learn the great American game.”
Blake played a six and the sheriff scored two by pairing, whereupon his opponent made it threes for six, and took a point for the last card.
“As I was saying, Humble wanted the cook to learn poker. Lee’s face was as blank as a cow’s, and Humble had to explain everything several times before the cook seemed to understand what he was driving at. Anybody would have thought he had been brought up in a monastery and that he didn’t know a card from an army mule.”
Blake pegged his seven points and picked up his cards without breaking the story.
“But Lee had awful luck, and in half an hour he owned half of Humble’s next month’s pay. Now, every time he gets a chance he shows Humble the cards and asks for a game. ‘Nicee game, ploker, nicee game,’ he’ll say. What Humble says is pertinent, profane and permeating. Then the boys guy him to a finish. He’ll be wanting to teach Lee how to play fan-tan some day, so the boys say. Lee must have graduated in poker before Humble ever heard of the game.”
Shields laughed heartily and swiftly ran over his cards.
“Fifteen two, four, six, a pair is eight, and a double run of three is fourteen. Real good,” he said as he pegged. “Passed the crack that time. What have you got?”
The foreman put his cards down, found three sixes and then turned the crib face up. “Pair of tens and His Highness,” he grumbled. “Only three in that crib!”
“That’s what you get for cutting a three,” laughed the sheriff.