“Reckon I’m content to trail along,” Cullison admitted, pushing in the necessary chips.
Soapy rasped his stubby chin, looked sideways at Sam and then at Blackwell, and abruptly shaved in chips enough to call the raise.
“Cards?” asked Curly.
“I’ll play these,” Blackwell announced.
Sam called for two and Stone one.
Blackwell raised. Sam, grumbling, stayed.
“Might as well see what you’ve got when I’ve gone this far,” he gave as a reason for throwing good money after bad.
Soapy took one glance at his new card and came in with a raise.
Blackwell slammed his fist down on the table. “Just my rotten luck. You’ve filled.”
Stone smiled, then dropped his eyes to his cards. Suddenly he started. What had happened was plain. He had misread his hand.