Everyone in the room laughed, including Steele, the smoke billowing out of his nostrils like dragon’s breath. Gloria moved down to his end of the table and stuck the mike in the old cowboy’s face. “Rufus? How about a few words?”

“I’ve been playing poker for my entire life,” Rufus said. “I believe the game exemplifies the worst aspects of capitalism which have made our country so great. I am looking forward to beating my opponent like an ugly stepchild.”

More laughter from the crowd. DeMarco appeared to bristle. When Gloria returned to his end of the table, he said, “Rufus, how much money do you have?”

“ ’Bout a million and a half,” Rufus replied.

“Let’s play for that,” DeMarco suggested.

“Winner-take-all?”

“Winner-take-all,” DeMarco said.

“You’re on, son.”

Gloria faced the camera and flashed a brilliant smile.

“There you have it, folks. Skip DeMarco has upped the ante against Rufus Steele. Three million dollars, winner-take-all, the new kid versus the old warrior. This is one you’re not going to want to miss.” Then she stepped away from the table, and the contest began.

The two participants took their chairs, and Valentine explained the rules. The game was No Limit Texas Hold ‘Em, and would be played until one man had the other’s money. The blinds would be $20,000 and $40,000, which guaranteed that each starting pot had a minimum of $60,000. After a player bet or called or raised, his opponent had thirty seconds to respond, or would automatically fold his hand. Valentine would be the timekeeper.

“Agreed?” he asked.

“Sounds good to me,” Rufus said.

“Me, too,” DeMarco said.

Valentine then riffle-shuffled the cards seven times. A famous mathematician had proven that a true random order could only be obtained after seven shuffles. It was work, but he wanted the contest to be as fair as possible. Finished, he cut the cards, burned one, then dealt two cards to each man.

“Good luck,” Valentine said.

After ten hands, Rufus was up $540,000.

Valentine had never seen anyone play Texas Hold ‘Em the way Rufus played it. In a normal game of Hold ‘Em, each player received two cards, then there was a round of betting, followed by three community cards, called the flop, being dealt face up on the table, followed by another round of betting. Then two more cards, called Fourth Street, or the turn, and Fifth Street, or the river, were dealt face up, with a round of betting after each. The five community cards were common to both players, who used them in combination with their own cards to form the strongest possible hand.

That was how Hold ‘Em was usually played. But it wasn’t how Rufus played it. He beat aggressively before any community cards were dealt, putting DeMarco into a corner. It was an unusual ploy, and it forced DeMarco to make an immediate decision. Eight times DeMarco had folded. The other two times he’d called Rufus’s bet only to have Rufus go over the top and go “all in,” pushing every chip he had into the pot. Both times, DeMarco had wilted and dropped out of the hand.

“Having fun?” Rufus asked as the eleventh hand was dealt.

“It isn’t over yet,” DeMarco shot back.

Rufus looked at the crowd. “I love these kids.”

DeMarco brought his two cards up to his face and studied them. Placing the cards down, he paused for a few moments then pushed two hundred thousand in chips into the pot. His body language had changed, and Valentine sensed that he’d gotten good cards. Rufus glanced at his own two cards, his face as tight as a bank vault.

“I’m going to raise,” Rufus said.

DeMarco leaned back in his chair. Valentine sensed that DeMarco had set a trap he was about to spring.

“How much are you raising?” DeMarco asked.

Rufus played with his stacks of chips. “Half a million.”

“I’m all in,” DeMarco fired back.

Rufus peeked at his cards stonily. “How much you got left, son?”

DeMarco counted his chips. “Nine hundred and eighty thousand.”

Rufus pushed back his Stetson and rubbed his face, then stood up from the table. He shifted from foot to foot like a horse sensing bad weather. “What the heck. I’ll call you.”

DeMarco jumped out of his chair. Picking up his two cards, he slapped them face up decisively on the felt. He had a pair of aces, the strongest starting hand.

“What have you got?” DeMarco asked.

Rufus flipped over his two cards. There was a mass sigh from the crowd.

“What does he have?” DeMarco asked again.

“The ten of diamonds and six of diamonds,” Valentine told him.

“You called my bet with that?” DeMarco asked incredulously.

“Sure,” Rufus said.

“But those are lousy cards.”

“Son, I came here to gamble.”

Valentine burned the top card, then dealt the flop, calling the values aloud for DeMarco’s benefit. The three community cards were the four of diamonds, ace of clubs, jack of diamonds. DeMarco had flopped three of a kind, Rufus four cards to a flush. DeMarco was the odds-on favorite to win and let out a war whoop.

“No diamonds,” he begged.

Valentine burned the top card and dealt Fourth Street. The card was the queen of spades, which helped neither player. DeMarco was jumping up and down. He was one card away from winning. It didn’t seem right, but gambling rarely was. Out of the corner of his eye, Valentine glanced at Rufus. The old cowboy looked like he was enjoying himself.

Valentine burned the top card, then paused dramatically before turning over Fifth Street, and calling out its value.

“Two of diamonds,” he said.

DeMarco stopped jumping. Valentine slid the two of diamonds down to his end of the table, and DeMarco picked the card up, and held it in front of his face.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered.

Rufus had made his diamond flush and beaten DeMarco’s three of a kind. A hush had fallen over the room. Facing the crowd, Rufus took off his Stetson and bowed deeply from the waist. Then everyone in the room, including the Greek, Marcy Baldwin, and the suckers, gave him his due, and broke into long and hearty applause.

DeMarco stood frozen in place, his face pained and astonished. Gloria appeared by his side, and with Zack’s camera whirring, asked, “Skip, what happened?”

DeMarco spent a moment regaining his composure, and the crowd grew quiet. Even Rufus seemed interested in what he had to say.

“Mr. Steele was the better man today,” he said quietly.

“Were you surprised by how aggressively he played?” Gloria asked.

“Yes. I’ve never played anyone like him. He’s really good.”

“So the old man taught you a few things,” Gloria said.

DeMarco winced. When he spoke again, his voice was subdued. “I’m sorry for the disparaging remarks I made about him earlier in the tournament. I was out of line.”

“Apology accepted,” Rufus called out.

DeMarco nodded solemnly, then placed his hand on the table edge, and used it to guide him to Rufus’s end. Stopping, he stuck his hand out, which Rufus warmly shook. It was the way contests were supposed to end, and Valentine rose from his chair, and joined in the applause. As it subsided, Gloria edged up beside him and squeezed his hand.

“You see,” she said. “Sometimes the good guys do win.”

Also by James Swain

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Poker Protection Tips

Cheating at poker may well be the largest unchecked crime in the United States. It takes place on all levelsprivate games, tournaments, the Internet, and in casino card rooms. As any pro will tell you, the best protection is to understand the various forms of cheating so you can look out for them when you play. Here are some of the most common forms of cheating taking place today, and what you can do to stop them.