"Why, sure," the player said, and laid down a pair of aces, a pair of threes—and a four. One of the threes, and the four, were clubs. That reduced the already improbable chances of the Queen's coming up with a flush.
"Sorry," said the second man, and laid down a straight with a single gesture.
The straight was nine-high and there were no clubs in it. Malone felt devoutly thankful for that.
The second man reached for the money but, under the popeyed gaze of the dealer, the fifth man laid down another straight—this one ten high. The nine was a club Malone felt the odds go down, right in his own stomach.
And now the cowboy put down his cards. The King of diamonds. The King of hearts. The Jack of diamonds. The Jack of spades. And—the Jack of hearts.
Full house. "Well," said the cowboy, "I suppose that does it."
The Queen said: "Please. One moment."
The cowboy stopped halfway in his reach for the enormous pile of chips. The Queen laid down her four clubs—Ace, King, Queen and ten— and for the first time flipped over her fifth card.
It was the Jack of clubs.
"My God," the cowboy said, and it sounded like a prayer. "A royal flush."