“We’ll take it!” Cloud snapped. “But listen, you clever-fingered jerk—I know just as well as you do that the top card is the king of clubs, and the one below it is the trey of diamonds. So, if you want to stay healthy, move slowly and be damned sure to lift just one card, not two, and take it off the top and not the bottom!”
Glaring in baffled fury, the dealer turned up the king of clubs and paid his loss.
At the next table the results were pretty much the same, and at the third. At the fourth table, however, instead of pyramiding, they played only single M-bills. They lost—won—lost—lost—won—lost—won—lost. In twenty plays they were only two thousand credits ahead.
“I think I’ve got it, Joan,” Cloud said then. “Coming up—eight, six, jack, five, deuce?”
“Uh-uh. I don’t think so. Eight, six, jack, three, one, I think. The trey of spades and the ace of hearts. A two-and-one shift with each full cycle.”
“Um . . . m. Could be . . . but do you think the guy’s that smart?”
“I’m pretty sure of it, Storm. He’s the best dealer they have. He’s been dealing a long time. He knows cards.”
“Well, if you’re done passing out compliments, how about calling a play?” the dealer suggested.
“QX. We’ll take the eight for one M . . . and it is the eight, you notice . . . let it ride . . . throw the six—without looking, of course . . . we’ll take the jack for two M’s. . . .”
The host, accompanied by no less a personage than the manager himself, had come up. They stood quietly and listened as Cloud took three bills out of the box, leaving one, and went on: