Next deal, Rafferty again came up with nothing. Inwardly he cursed; the cards weren't coming as well as they had. He decided to bluff again, since the previous attempt hadn't yielded any information about his opponent's tactics.
This time he pushed the bet up to a thousand before calling.
"Three sevens," Steel said.
"You beat me," Rafferty said, and collapsed his hand.
"Mind if I look?" Steel said.
"Yes," said Rafferty. He was surprised; it was a rank amateur's trick to ask to look at a hand that had been tossed in. Coming from a cool customer like Steel, it didn't make much sense.
But slowly Rafferty began to fathom the way his opponent's mind worked. And slowly, as his genius for the game asserted itself, Rafferty began to win.
By 2100 his pile of chips totalled near fifty thousand. It was enough to pay off Walsh and still come out with a comfortable profit for the evening's work—but Rafferty didn't want to quit. He didn't play the game that way.
He decided to go for a killing. He had Steel figured, now and he could take the house for a fortune.
Nursing three jacks and a pair of fours, he pushed the betting higher and higher. Steel kept right with him.