“Meaning?”
“That I wouldn’t have laid down my hand.”
“Betcher ten plunks he had me beat.”
“You’re on.” Curly turned to Soapy. “Object to us seeing your hand?”
Stone was counting his chips. He smiled. “It ain’t poker, but go ahead. Satisfy yourselves.”
“You turn the cards,” Flandrau said.
A king of diamonds showed first, then a ten-spot and a six-spot of the same suit.
“A flush,” exulted Blackwell.
“I’ve got just one more ten left, but it says you’re wrong.”
The words were not out of Curly’s mouth before the other had taken the bet. Soapy looked at Flandrau with a new interest. Perhaps this boy was not such a youth as he had first seemed.