lace hanky while Benjamin deprived him of his coat as neatly as any valet. Daniel brought the irate gambler another beer.
As the source of Dorset's spare cards was neatly removed by a couple of striplings, Tyler wanted to laugh. He wanted to roll on the floor and hold his sides until he ached. He wanted to kiss Maryellen Peyton and even her brother if necessary. Instead, he grumpily ordered everyone back to the game.
It was easy after that. Without the assistance of his coat pockets, Dorset's cards went steadily downhill. Maryellen's cheerful smiles and reassurances kept Tyler betting for as long as Dorset held out. Dorset lost every hand. Maryellen's frowns signaled bad hands for Tyler, and he folded every time she did so. Dorset won those rounds, but the pot was much smaller.
The stack of money around Tyler mounted and began to include greenbacks as Dorset emptied out his pockets and ordered more whiskey. Several of the other men at the table dropped out to go home with their small winnings. Others stepped in to take their places. With every loss, Dorset grew angrier.
Daniel hiccupped and slid from the bar to the floor. Benjamin lifted him up and carried him out. Tyler didn't miss either of them. Maryellen yawned and glanced at her nails. Tyler let the pot go to the man beside him. Dorset threw down a pair of deuces and swore.
"Monteigne, if I didn't have a man watching you, I'd swear you were cheating. Take off your coat for insurance, and I'll go you one more round."
Tyler gave his opponent a look that should have shriveled him in his seat. "Those are fighting words, Dorset. Gentlemen don't cheat. But since I'm winning this game, I'm prepared to be generous." He shrugged off his tailored frock coat and threw it at one of the men standing near him. The man searched it for hidden cards or devices and shrugged when he found none.
"Now, put your money where your mouth is, Dorset." Tyler picked up the deck of cards and shuffled. The mound of money in front of him was enormous, sufficient to pay off almost every grudge he had against the man. But he wanted one thing more.
"I want a new deck of cards. Henry, have you got a clean deck?" Dorset shouted to the bartender.
The bartender obligingly threw an unopened pack. Someone caught it and passed it to the table.
Tyler caught Maryellen's eye as Dorset's man took the old deck. She glanced at the man, then nodded almost imperceptibly.
While the gamblers at the table broke open the new pack, Maryellen called sweetly, "Could I have those old cards, gentlemen? I'd like them for a souvenir of one of the most exciting nights of my life. Maybe you could autograph the aces for me when you're done playing?"
Tyler hid his laughter as Dorset's accomplice scowled and surrendered the cards. The farmers were willingly scribbling their names across the old deuces and treys as he dealt the new cards. Tyler now knew where the spy was in the crowd, although he'd harbored the suspicion all along. And Dorset wouldn't have the advantage of the extra deck as he had hoped. Deprived of whatever was left in his coat, the planter would have to play an honest game.
"What are you wagering, Dorset?" Tyler called as he examined his hand.
"You'll have to take my marker, Monteigne. You know I'm good for it. After all, you ought to be more aware than anyone of what my crop brings."
The room fell silent. Maryellen looked thoughtful as she placed another beer beside Dorset and glanced at the hand that he so carelessly displayed. This time she gave no evidence of laughter or frowns.
Not high cards then. Reading Maryellen's deliberate expression, Tyler ignored Dorset's jibe and discarded one card and drew another. "I'll not be here long enough to collect your marker, Dorset. Wager that watch you're wearing."
Feeling the currents of tension, the other gamblers quickly folded. Dorset frowned and put the intricately engraved gold watch on the table and took two more cards.
Tyler dropped a stack of coins on the table. "I call."
Dorset spread out a pair of tens. Tyler had two knaves.
"Damn it, Monteigne, I know you cheated." Dorset reached to take back the watch.
A click from Tyler's revolver halted Dorset's hand in midair. Tyler pocketed the watch without looking at it, then began filling his pockets with cash with his free hand. "I wasn't the one with cards in my coat, sir.