He led them through the doors into the open depths of the warehouse. Electric arc lamps illuminated the wide space and the carriage hidden within. A low grumble of appreciation rose from the assembled gamblers. Tom’s heart lurched with excitement.
“This is my newest model, only recently completed,” LeGrande said proudly.
“Don’t look like a coach at all,” the Kid observed. “More like a railroad car on wheels.”
Tom thought he was right. The monstrosity before him likely had begun as a rail car, probably one intended for precious cargo. The long rectangular box that served as the body of the carriage was made of metal and sat on eight large spoked wheels. The coach had been painted white all over and, in large black letters, the side was painted with the words, HANSEN FEED AND SEED.
Tom didn’t think LeGrande was fooling anyone with that. No feed company was going to be able to afford an operation of this size. Armed men were climbing on top of it using ladders at the front and back. Six enormous draft horses were hitched to the front and the driver’s seat had to be at least ten feet off of the ground.
“Amazing, Earl!” said Archibald Clay.
“It looks to be a rough ride,” said his wife as if she could already feel her old bones rattling.
“Not at all,” said LeGrande urging them closer. “It rests on steel springs and with the weight of it you feel as if you were sitting on a cloud.”
“That looks like the opposite of a cloud,” Katherine remarked.
“Looks heavy,” said Dave Mather. “Those horses gonna be able to stop it if it gets goin’ downhill?”
“It has brakes that the driver can activate on an incline,” LeGrande assured him.
Hoodoo Brown had stepped all the way to the side of it and rapped his knuckles on the metal surface. He glanced up at the small porthole-style windows that had been installed at the top of the coach near the roof. They didn’t look like they were designed to open. “Air’s not gonna move inside. It’s gonna be like an oven in there.”
“Not at all,” LeGrande said, clapping his hands together in excitement. “There is an ingenious device inside. Brilliant science. As the wheels turn, so do a series of cunning gears that turn a fan to circulate the air, pulling it from the front of the coach past pads of water-soaked excelsior to cool the air.”
“Exlyore?” Tom, his nose wrinkled in confusion.
“Eggselsore,” the Kid corrected.
“Excelsior wood strips for mattresses, my boy,” said Mister Crocker with a laugh. “A mule-headed man brought samples by the office, says they’ll be soft as cotton. Some of my competitors are investing. I say it’s poppycock.”
“Maybe so for mattresses, but this is something else,” said his companion, Mr. Redding. “Using evaporation to cool the air is a capitol idea. Maybe we should re-think our investment.”
“Oh, uh right,” grunted Crocker. “I suppose this journey shall be a test.”
“We should leave now, Sir, if we want to be away from town before sunrise,” said a rotund man sitting next to the driver at the top of the coach. He wore an easy smile and wore a fancy new felt hat.
“Indeed,” replied LeGrande. “That, ladies and gentlemen, is Mister Morris, the man in charge of our security during the game. Come, let us board. Your personal items have all been loaded, as well as your weapons, but I don’t believe any of you shall need them.”
One of the men grasped part of the undercarriage and pulled out a long wooden board that acted as a ramp leading up to the sliding metal door. LeGrande pulled the door open and motioned his guests up.
Katherine paused next to Tom before climbing up the ramp. “We’re being herded up there like cattle, don’tcha think?” Tom watched her bustle sway as she headed up.
“I think there’s somethin’ familiar about that girl,” the Kid said.
“Me too,” Tom said with a grin and followed her. He ducked in through the door and was happy to see that the inside was much more inviting than the outside.
The interior was wood-paneled and carpeted. Several cushioned chairs with small side tables sat at the rear of the compartment, while the front was taken up by the poker table. It was hexagonal in shape with a red felted surface. There were six high-backed chairs at each side of the hexagon, one for each of the five players and one for the dealer.
The space was dimly illuminated by the small round windows at the top of the compartment, but Lucien and Davis quickly went around lighting oil lamps to brighten the atmosphere.
As soon as the last of them entered, the ramp was stowed away and, with only a slight lurch, the carriage began to move. LeGrande had not been fibbing when he said that the springs would absorb the shock. To Tom it felt more like he was riding in a riverboat than a carriage.
Mr. LeGrande didn’t waste time. He walked around to the head of the table and stood behind the dealer’s chair. “Gamblers, be seated. Your assistants can sit just behind you or by the tables at the rear.”
Behind him was the front of the carriage. On that wall, a cabinet stood containing food and drink as well as a large locked safe. A square vent for the cool air was open between them. A humid breeze was already flowing out of it and Tom could hear the trickle of water.
That wasn’t the only sound. The mechanism that cooled the compartment let loose a whirring sound that grew louder the faster they travelled and, though the ride was mostly smooth, the low vibration that passed through the body of the coach gave off a constant rumble. All in all, it was quieter than a standard stagecoach, but the players would have to speak up to be heard.
The men moved to the table and discovered that their seating had already been assigned. A folded piece of paper at each side of the hexagon told them where to sit.
Tom was seated at an angle with his back partially to the wall. Archibald Clay and his wife sat to Tom’s right, next to LeGrande. Hoodoo was on LeGrande’s right, directly across from Tom, followed by Dave Mather and Benjamin Crocker.
“It’s likely that most of you already know the rules of this tournament,” said LeGrande. “However, for clarity, I shall reiterate them. The five of you will play two full rounds. If the same gentleman wins both rounds, the tournament ends there. However, in the more likely event that we have two winners, they will play each other in a final round to determine who wins the whole pot. I will act as the dealer for each hand and also judge any disputes.”
Tom thought that was a smart strategy. Since LeGrande was a neutral party it reduced the likelihood of someone being able to cheat. Then again, there was always the possibility that LeGrande himself had someone he was planning to split the winnings with. If that was the case, Archibald Clay was the obvious plant.
“What we playin?” asked Dave Mather. The dark-eyed man had been silent up to this point. “Stud?”
LeGrande raised his nose at this suggestion. Stud poker was a relatively recent addition to the game and he was a traditionalist. “Certainly not. We play straight poker here. Also, we play for cash. Not chips. At the beginning of the round, each of you will start with $5,000 in cash. If there is a third, deciding game, the winnings from the first two games will be used.
“The stagecoach will stay moving on a predetermined route throughout the tournament. It will not stop until we are finished, at which point we will rendezvous with your horses and the winner can decide whether to ride back to Las Vegas with the rest of us or leave on his horse.”
“It’s a good thing you didn’t try to rob this thing,” the Kid whispered, right next to Tom’s ear. “Don’t know how you three could’ve pulled it off.”
Tom nodded thoughtfully. There sure were a lot of precautions being made to make sure that the coach wouldn’t be robbed, but he wasn’t sure they would be enough. Their best hope was that none of the rest of them had been as blabber-mouthed as Teddy Snodgrass. If any outlaw band learned the starting place and time of the tournament, they were gonna get held up.
No matter how they tried to disguise the coach, the
enormous thing stuck out like a sore thumb. Even if they had escaped town without notice, any random robbers with enough firepower might see how heavily guarded it was and decide to try their luck. If that happened, they would just have to hope that their guards were better armed than their attackers.
“I got a question,” Katherine said. “What happens when one of us has to pee? If this thing isn’t stopping, it’s gonna get real uncomfortable in here.”
There were some chuckles around the table, but LeGrande wasn’t amused. “A valid question, if crudely put.” He pointed towards the rear of the compartment. “Beyond that door is a hopper toilet.”
“Like on a train,” said Hoodoo Brown. “The kind that empties out on the tracks.”
LeGrande sighed at having to discuss such things. “Indeed.”
“I wouldn’t want to be one of the guards ridin’ behind us,” the Kid observed and by the sound of the giggle that accompanied the remark, Tom knew he was thinking up some kind of prank.
“Don’t get any ideas,” he warned quietly.
“What was that?” Lucien asked, leaning forward.
Tom had forgotten about the burly man that was standing right behind him. It was going to be difficult to communicate with his backer with all the people around. “Uh, when do we start?”
LeGrande snapped his fingers and one of his employees walked to the safe behind him. As he opened it, Tom caught a glance of several stacks of bills along with a pile of handguns, likely the weapons belonging to everyone at the table. The man returned to the table with five stacks of bills. He passed one to each of the players. Tom thumbed through his and found, as expected, $5,000 in tens, fifties, and hundreds.
LeGrande then pulled a deck of cards from the interior pocket of his jacket. The backs of the cards glittered with gold. He began shuffling them expertly. Tom wondered if the gold on the backs was somehow real or just paint.
“Hey is that real gold on those cards?” asked the red-headed Katherine Weiss who was evidently thinking along those same lines. “Or is it just paint?”
“Both,” answered Archibald Clay with amusement. “Young lady, there is gold dust inside the paint.”
“That’s what gives them that sparkle,” LeGrande agreed.
“I recognize the deck,” said Mrs. Clay. “One of Earl’s favorites.”
LeGrande dealt the golden cards, five to a player, and placed a small white placard in front of Hoodoo Brown. “You will be the first to bet. We’ll pass it around each hand. Ante is ten dollars.”
Tom had two pair; aces and nines. While everyone looked at their hands, Tom placed his cards to cover his lips. “Seen anything yet?” he whispered.
“What?” said the Kid, leaning in closer.
“Seen anything?” Tom repeated a little louder.
“Seen what?” Lucien asked from behind him. “Are you asking my opinion?”
Tom winced. “No. I was just muttering to myself,” he said and placed his ante on the table. This wasn’t working. There were too many variables. He really needed to talk to the Kid and discuss a new strategy, but the coach wasn’t stopping.
As usual, everyone was conservative the first hand, feeling each other out. Hoodoo placed the first bet and everyone matched. Tom discarded three cards, including the pair of nines. Lucian grunted in confusion behind him.
“I’m not gonna let you sit behind me if you can’t keep a poker face,” Tom said to the man. Lucien’s look was expressionless as usual. “Okay, never mind about that part, but just keep quiet, okay?”
“Whatcha doin’, Tommy?” the Kid wondered.
Tom received his replacement cards. There was a third ace and the other two nines. He tossed them face down on the table. “I fold. Scuse me folks. That hopper is callin’ my name.” He looked at the dealer. “Alright with you? Y’all can finish the hand without me.”
LeGrande seemed surprised at such a quick exit, but nodded. Tom stood and smiled at the other players, then walked past his burly assistant towards the door at the rear of the coach.
The interior of the toilet stall was larger than expected. There was a mirror and a washbasin and a dressing table full of toiletries. It was all very fancy. The hopper, on the other hand, was a simple bench built into the rear of the room with a hole cut in the center of it. Tom looked into the hole and saw a dusty rutted road passing beneath it.
“Kid,” Tom said, trying to keep his voice softer than the constant low rumble of the coach.
The scent of cloves filled the space. “So that’s what you were up to,” the specter said, appearing next to the vanity. He leaned close to the mirror and examined his teeth. “Discarded a nice hand.”
“So what do we do?” Tom asked. “Can this backer see you? Hear you? How does this change our plans?”
“She,” the Kid clarified. “And this does make things a bit messy. She won’t be able to hear what I’m saying to you if I don’t want her to, but yes, she knows I’m here.”
“The legend’s a she? You saw her?” Tom asked.
“Yep. Showed herself to me real quick. Never seen her before. Not a looker,” he said with a shrug.
“But what’re her powers? What can she do to mess things up for me?”
“Dunno. Won’t be able to tell unless she uses ’em. Still, cheating’s out. I can’t go around lookin’ at everybody’s hands or she’ll notice and tell her prospect.”
“Alright,” Tom said. “But that don’t worry me so much. Judging by that last hand, my luck’s workin’ just fine.”
The Kid grimaced. “Somethin’ else I oughtta tell you. I’ve been holdin’ back on usin’ any witchery. Thing is, once I start usin’ my powers, she’s gonna start usin’ hers and that could be bad.”
“Okay,” Tom said. “So why are you giving me that hopeful look?”
“’Cause I really want you to tell me to use ’em anyway,” he said, his hands clenched. “It might help things fall your way and there’s so many things I could do! Crocker’s got a gun hidden in his cane that I could set off. And did you notice that Lady Clay’s wearin’ a wig? I so wanna make it fall off.”
Tom’s brow rose. He was truly impressed. Usually the Kid did whatever he felt like regardless of the consequences. “I appreciate your restraint.”
“Restaurant,” the Kid corrected.
“Not fallin’ for it this time,” Tom said, shaking a finger at him. “I know what word I meant. Now what can you tell me about the players? You said they had talents.”
There was a knock at the door and Tom heard Lucien’s voice, “They want to know how much longer you’ll be.”
“Just another minute. Ate too much steak,” Tom replied lamely.
“Here’s the deal,” the Kid said. “Several of the folks in that room has some strange talent. Thing is, they’re all so close together, I can’t tell whose is whose and I don’t even know if they know how to use ’em. I’ll let you know once I figure it out. Wish I knew which one of ’em belongs to that legend. She was standin’ behind LeGrande, but I’m pretty sure she ain’t his backer, ’cause I would’ve noticed yesterday.”
“Sounds good. Just hold back on usin’ your power unless I’m in trouble,” Tom said. He started unbuttoning his pants.
“What are you doing?” the Kid asked.
“Turns out I really have to go.” Tom pulled down his pants and sat on the hopper. “One more thing, Kid.”
“What?”
“After I’m done, can you appear and disappear a couple times in here?” Tom requested. “You know, to overpower the smell?”
When Tom exited the toilet, Katherine was standing there waiting. He shut the door behind himself. “Sorry I took so long. Uh, you might wanna give it a minute before you go in there.”
She snorted. “Ain’t nothing I haven’t smelled before. Now if you please, ‘Lucky’, let a lady through.”
Tom took off his hat and stepped aside as she passed. Something about the way she spoke tickled the back of his mind. He returned to
the table. “Sorry about that, gentlemen. What did I miss?”
“Just the fact that we’re gonna be here days at this rate,” Hoodoo complained.
“Mistah Archibald won the hand,” Crocker said, giving the old gambler a tip of his hat.
“Small pot. $110,” said Dave Mather.
“Please be seated, Mister Dunn,” LeGrande said, starting to deal. “No one likes a slow game.”
As Tom slid into his chair, Lucien leaned in close to his ear and said in a low voice. “Heard you mumbling to yourself in there. You crazy or something?”
“I have my methods,” Tom replied with an easy smile. The burly man was starting to get in his way. “You know, I think I would prefer it if you sat a little further back. Maybe if you wait by the door? I’ll call on you if I need anything.”
LeGrande nodded at the man and Lucian walked to the rear of the coach and sat in one of the cushioned chairs. He put on a small pair of spectacles and removed a small yellow dime novel from his jacket pocket.
The game began again, picking up speed. As the men began to understand one another, their true personalities began to shine through.
Two of them were conservative with their bets. Mather, a darkly quiet man, played like someone with little skill, almost like he had watched a lot of card games, but rarely played before. Benjamin Crocker seemed like he wasn’t in charge. His “assistant” seemed to be signaling him on what to do.
The other two were more aggressive. Archibald, the canny veteran, raised the bets frequently, often bluffing. But he knew when to withdraw. Hoodoo, on the other hand was a real shark. He would let the pot pile up and them swoop in with an overlarge bet, a maneuver that worked for him a time or two, once even out-bluffing Archibald.
Tom held back, trying to take a route in the middle. His luck continued to hold strong and he was often forced to fold to avoid looking suspicious. He took some large pots, but lost quite a few smaller ones. As a result, Hoodoo and Archibald, whose money piles fluctuated quite wildly focused more on each other than on him.
Over time the two more conservative gamblers saw their fortunes worn down. Tom waited for the right moment to strike big. There were a few times when he was tempted, but he let them slide.
Noose Jumpers: A Mythological Western Page 30