Tiff's Game (Perry County Frontier Series)

by Roy F. Chandler

  The girl stood at Shatto's side, a little behind, with a hand on her man's shoulder, a handsome young woman with a dash of willfulness in her carriage and dress.

  Shatto was fortunate, but Haycock saw weakness in Shatto's need for her presence. Many gamblers cherished their good luck pieces, but the best did not need them. Some wore only certain clothing or jewelry. Haycock would have supposed Tiff Shatto's big pistol would have been charm enough. He wondered for another instant how Shatto had detected the tiny single-shot pistol tucked in the special pocket sewn into his vest. The butt barely showed and certainly did not bulge. Haycock vowed again to play his best game. This Shatto might run deeper than expected.

  Chip saw Haycock win the cut and take the first hand without worry. Who dealt would not matter. Blackjack would appear now and then, as would other unbeatable hands. With Tiff able to read the cards, those few hands would delay the inevitable, but only by a little.

  Some in the crowd applauded the size of the first fifty dollar pot. They had come to see big money bet, and starting off with a month and a half of a working man's wages promised sights to remember.

  Carter Roth lacked Chip's equanimity. "God, he's going to get taken."

  Chip was disdainful. "Quit groaning. A man can't play against a blackjack. You know that."

  Roth said, "Fine. That'll be your money crossing the table. Mine'll be what Tiff's still got."

  Before the next deal, Tiff tossed five double eagles into the center, and Haycock dealt. Tiff barely looked. He knew he held an eight and a four. Haycock waited. Inwardly, Tiff glowed. The next card to be dealt would be another eight. He tossed out an additional pair of coins. Haycock covered, and Tiff requested, "One card."

  Haycock dealt, and Tiff pretended to look at his card. He bounced a coin on edge as though deciding, then pitched it in. Haycock matched it and dealt himself a nine and a face card. Haycock's nineteen was unlikely to be beaten, but it was. Shatto's twenty took the hand.

  Again the crowd applauded and gossiped in satisfaction. Few could see even the dealer's face-up cards, but they saw the gold change hands. The second amount was stunning. Nearly three hundred dollars on a single hand. Not too far off a year of a man's work.

  Carter heaved a relieved sigh. Chip felt his pulse pick up beats. This kind of gaming could make a man old before he should be.

  It wasn't gambling, of course. Tiff Shatto could read the cards. Frederick Alfred Haycock could not. The play became significantly slanted. Tiff took large hands. When he won, Haycock's pots were usually small. As if he knew, Shatto bet as weakly as he could against the gambler's high hands. Haycock found himself frustrated and wishing to curse.

  Haycock was no fool. For a few plays he suspected a run of good luck for Shatto. As the hands continued to fall against him, he considered the possibility that he was facing a master player such as he had never before encountered. That too went by the board. Shatto drew to hands the world's biggest fool would not have challenged—and won, again and yet again. Haycock concluded that he was being had, but he saw no way it could be happening. His piles of gold sank at an alarming rate, and for the first time in years, Haycock felt himself sweating.

  Struggling, Haycock repeatedly called for new cards. He cut and shuffled imaginatively and kept his own hands carefully concealed. Nothing helped. A fly buzzed, and Haycock slashed irritably at it. His loss of control startled him, and without discussion, he slid back his chair and announced a recess.

  Although prepared to deal, Tiff Shatto quietly laid down the deck and rose for his own stretch.

  Immediately the assemblage buzzed with excited talk. No one could miss what was happening. Haycock, the seasoned professional, was having his nose rubbed in it. Tiff Shatto was handling him as if he were a child just learning the game.

  More than a few were gleeful, believing it was time Haycock got his comeuppance. Knowledgeable players were however stunned. Haycock, they knew, could play blackjack. They longed to see the cards, but other than an obvious blackjack, the totals could not be determined. How could it be—and so very fast? The game was barely an hour old, and Haycock's gold was half gone.

  Haycock's helpers lifted the gaming table and rotated it. Chairs were moved around. Tiff made no objection. It would not matter. Haycock conferred with his banker, Brown, and the small man called Shelly. The Long boy Chip had put in the galley stayed there, and the high locker door remained open so he could see into the false ceiling.

  The gambler was again ready. Tiff said to Chip, "This isn't going to take long. Have everything set, just the way we planned."

  "It's ready, Tiff." Chip whistled soundlessly. "You sure aren't letting him up for air."

  Carter was insistent, "For God's sake, don't ease up, Tiff. You've got him backin' up, so keep hammering."

  Tiff spoke calmly. "If he will play, it won't take long. I'm going to up the ante." His eyes swept the crowd. "This will give these people something to talk about for many a year."

  Tiff sat opposite the gambler and said coldly, "We're wasting time."

  Startled, Haycock hid it and said only, "Oh?"

  Tiff pulled a stack of coins closer and clicked forward an opening two hundred dollars. Haycock felt sweat jump, but also hackles. Shatto was working him as though he were some thick-headed stable mucker.

  Shatto won. He doubled and won again. He bet a tiny amount and dealt Haycock a blackjack. Someone on the dock whooped, and a number laughed aloud.

  Haycock fought anger. Having won the deal, he opened a new deck and cut and shuffled. Shatto won and won again.

  Tiff Shatto won the deal. He dealt Haycock two cards. Haycock accepted a hit and bet big. Tiff covered the bet and tentatively offered to double the amount. Sitting with a count of twenty in his hand, Haycock accepted.

  Tiff dealt to himself face up. A face card worth ten. His second card was a nine. Haycock glowed. No one would draw against such odds. Finally, he had a really fat win.

  Shatto seemed to hesitate, holding the deck poised. Then, to Haycock's astonishment he dealt himself the next card. It lay face down, and Shatto took his time turning it over. The card was a deuce.

  His guts knotted, futile rage simmering, Haycock barely heard Tiff's words. "And two makes twenty-one. Dealer wins." Haycock despised the strong, tanned hands that swept in the clattering pile of gold.

  It still took half an hour, and Tiff could feel his own strain. Occasionally, Lily's concentration or his own faltered. For those moments he saw only card backs. Then his own sweat broke. Tiff worked at getting it over.

  Haycock did not have the gold to cover Tiff's bet. He had held others in such thrall, but it was a new experience for him. Resignation slugged him. How he was being beaten he could not determine, but it had been swift and utterly merciless.

  It was not over yet Tiff separated Haycock's last gold pieces and pushed them back to the gambler. He left his own huge bet intact. Then, to the gambler's surprise, and to the crowd's excited exclamations, Tiff announced, "Last hand, high card draw. This bet against the barge we are playing on." Without waiting for acceptance or rejection, Tiff shuffled and fanned the deck face down across the table.

  Haycock felt his eyes smart in humiliation. He was being cast a bone. Yet, Shatto's bet was far more than the barge's worth. Haycock looked about, suddenly hating the canals, the barge, and the pack of hick-brained lookers-on. Well, he could also give insult.

  He raked in the fanned deck, discarded it and opened a new pack. He shuffled with practiced skill and again fanned the cards.

  His voice tight with anger, Haycock said, "Now we will play."

  The accusation was plain, and the crowd's chatter died. Haycock sat poised, anger bulging his jaws and beefing his neck.

  Tiff appeared unmoved. His voice remained cold and impersonal. "It is still your draw, Mister Haycock."

  Visibly battling himself, Haycock chose a card and turned over a Jack. Tiff's supporters groaned.

  Tiff considered drawing the same and dr
agging the whipping through another round, but he was tired of it. Haycock was as licked as he could be at this sitting.

  Tiff chose. The Ace created an uproar. Haycock stood, and Tiff came up with him. They stood eye to eye. There was no give visible.

  Haycock broke it off, turning away, with Brown hurrying to his side. Amid the hullabaloo Chip hopped aboard the barge and entered the gaming room through the open wall. He and Lily stuffed the small mountain of coins into ready saddlebags, and Chip carried them off the boat and through the crowd with Lily alongside and Pfoutz Valley rifles surrounding them.

  Haycock's thoroughly shaken banker appeared bearing a hastily scrawled bill of sale with Frederick Alfred Haycock's signature at the bottom. They now stood on Tiff Shatto's barge.

  Chip reappeared. "Lily, Tinker, Hannah, and our Duncannon banker are on their way in the banker's phaeton. Four Long boys are riding alongside, and Tiny and Billy Logan are blocking the road for a while so no one can follow too close." Chip grinned. "That load'll be safe in the Duncannon bank before most know it's gone."

  There was no avoiding the well-wishers. Winners are popular, and Tiff shook dozens of hands and accepted more congratulations. Haycock's men were lugging personal belongings off the barge and into the darkness. If they had asked, Tiff would not have roused them into the night, but it was natural that they smarted over their boss's licking and would not have stayed aboard if invited.

  Carter Roth was awash with satisfaction. "The barge captain you came down with can move your new boat over by mine tomorrow, Tiff." He wondered aloud, "What in hell are you going to do with it?" Tiff did not have an answer.

  With the game over earlier than expected, the gathering milled a bit uncertainly. A hawker of a strangely shaped hoe demonstrated the tool's ability to grub. The barrelhead gamblers swung into their familiar rhythms, and Tiff, standing atop his new boat, recognized shills at work, whipping up the games. But this was not the city where people caroused nights away. Although a band of drunken louts argued and fought, they stayed away from the center of things.

  With the main attraction over, a half hour of discussing it seemed enough. Families loaded up and drove off. Handheld lanterns lighted parties making their way across the aqueduct. The gathering wound down with some rapidity, and soon the gamblers began packing their gear.

  Untended lanterns placed by Haycock's crew smoked, guttered, and died. Tiff said, "I guess this stuff goes with the barge. What will we do with it, anyway?"

  Carter said, "It's all worth money, Tiff. We'll find a use, or you can sell it."

  Chip suggested, "I've never been inside the living quarters. Let's take a look."

  Most of the space was assigned to the crew. Bunks and a stove with a table centered and lined by chairs made up their furnishings. A bedroom of some splendor was obviously Haycock's. The walls were papered and lanterns were about. A four poster and a pair of high chests added luxury, and a dry sink with wash basin and pitcher stood ready. Someone, ill-humored, had deliberately splintered an ornate mirror, and its shards speckled a large oriental carpet.

  Chip said, "This is pretty nice."

  Tiff laughed, "Tell you what, Uncle Chip. You and Aunt Tinker can take it for a vacation. It would be romantic, just plodding up the canal, taking your good old time."

  Carter Roth said, "That's it, Tiff. You can rent the barge for excursions, especially honeymooning. There's some money to be made here."

  Tiff was most interested in the view from within the false ceiling. He slid in and swirled around on the smoothly planked floor.

  "My gosh, you should see this. There are lenses that magnify mixed in with that ceiling glass. From here you could count every hand."

  Chip finished the thought. "When the cards were right, that Shelly just relayed to Brown who signaled or whispered in Haycock's ear."

  Captain Roth was unrelenting. "They should be strung up."

  Chip suggested, "Why don't you start gambling down below, Carter? You could hire back that Shelly and even you could win with this setup."

  Roth answered, "I don't ever recall you winning any of my money, Shatto."

  Tiff had seen enough. He was drained and tired out. Having a mind racing beside his, perhaps actually within his intelligence, was somehow exhausting. He wondered how Lily was faring. The ladies would remain in the Duncannon hotel overnight, safely out of the way if any trouble should develop.

  Everything was quiet, however. The last of the gathering had disappeared, and most of the lanterns had been snuffed. A drunken row raised noise somewhere toward Duncannon, and that seemed the end of it.

  Tiff asked, "Where did Haycock go?"

  The valley boy who had been assigned to watch said, "He took a stage. It was waiting along with a pair of surreys. I guess he was expecting a triumphal departure and didn't intend waiting for the morning train." The youth smiled, pleased by his use of large words.

  "Where did they head? Across the Susquehanna? They're probably half way to Dauphin by now."

  Tiff had expected nothing more. Haycock was a businessman. Crooked he might be, but a fist, knife, or gunfighter he was not. Haycock would lick his wounds, then shrug off the horrendous loss pretending it did not even rankle. Friends and enemies alike would marvel. Tiff understood. It was the way it was done.

  Chip said, "We'll take care of the animals and call it a night. Tomorrow, we will all meet here and take stock."

  A Long boy asked, "All right if we sleep on your barge, Tiff? I'd like trying that big bed."

  Tiff wished he could flop into it himself, but it looked as though he was destined for a wagon bed along with Chip, Carter, and probably Tiny Doyle.

  They started down the towpath with enough moonlight to stay out of the canal. Carter said, "George and my boys went into town right after the ladies did, Chip."

  "By now they're all tucked in with visions of double eagles floating behind their eyes."

  Tiff laughed. "I see a few myself. Biggest night I ever had and bigger than anything I ever expected."

  "What'll you do with it, nephew? You've got a lot more than a start there."

  "More than a start?" Roth was indignant. "He's got enough to do anything he wants. Tiff is rich, for gosh sakes."

  "No he isn't, Carter." Chip sounded irritated. "He won enough to get into things. A man can't retire to his porch on what Tiff made tonight. He has to use it to make more."

  They struck the aqueduct and started across. Chip and Carter strode side by side. Tiff walked behind and after a bit he heard Tiny Doyle's heavy boots on the wooden towpath.

  Carter complained, "Quit edging me over, Chip. You're pushing me into the canal."

  "Well, that's better than your jamming me into the river."

  "Hell, you've got a railing on your side. You can't go into the river. Damn it, move over."

  Tiff grinned into the night with tired contentment. He thought of Lily and could almost feel her presence. It was his job to do the talking and asking. He had things to say to her.

  Tiff's grin turned a little sappy. He was astonished that he felt ready, more than ready, he was anxious.

  Above, the moon was almost full. Maybe that was it. He was moonstruck, but Tiff Shatto knew it wasn't that at all.

  The witch of Perry County had woven her spell and caught him as tight as could be.

  Chapter 20

  The aqueduct was long, and they stopped part way across to listen to the river below. In the night they could see little, but the Juniata was high with spring runoff, and the water rushed around the aqueduct's pilings.

  Tiff had never seen such a construction. The aqueduct was really a wooden canal suspended like a bridge across the river. Joined to the earth canal at each end, the aqueduct allowed canal boats to cross above the Juniata, with their animals pulling as usual, avoiding the ravages of high and low water normal to a river's flow.

  In its day an engineering marvel, the aqueduct was falling into serious disrepair. Carter grumbled about it.


  "Listen to that. This old trough leaks like a sieve. I can hear water running like a waterfall."

  Chip lacked sympathy. "Why don't you come out and caulk it then? I don't see why my tax money should go to keeping a few of you barge owners in business."

  "If the aqueduct goes out, the whole Juniata canal system will close down."

  "Who cares? Railroads do it better anyway."

  "A lot of people still ship by canal, Chip. It's cheapest, and it's quiet and natural, not like the damned soot-blowing, fire-causing steam engines."

  "Shipping by barge is cheap only because we taxpayers pay for all the rebuilding and repairing. Let 'em close, I say."

  They had only gone a little way further when figures showed ahead. They did not appear to be moving, and after a few more steps, Carter said, "Well, I'll be damned."

  Tiff's hackles rose. The man called Brown and his five toughs jammed the towpath. Although their hands appeared empty, they were not out there for moon watching.

  Without hesitation, Chip and Carter walked tight against the waiting men. Almost nose to nose, Chip said, I'll tell you only once. Get out of the way."

  Brown said, "You made us look like fools up in Millerstown, and tonight you took our jobs. We're here to lick you for it." He hastened to add, "No clubs, no guns and no knives—just knuckles and boots, Shatto. You against us, till you crawl off saying out loud that you're whomped and sorry for what you done."

  A bruiser standing alongside Brown said, "We're going to lump you good for what you did." He laughed with keyed up nastiness. "I'm going to have me a dance on top of you, Roth."

  Tiff's hand was on his pistol. He thought, "Oh no, not six against three," but a sort of low growl was rumbling inside Carter Roth's barrel chest, and Chip was leaning forward, his two-barreled pistol ignored.

  They were going to do it! Tiff realized with a sudden horrified excitement, these two old men weren't giving a hair.

  Giving? A snarl like an angry panther came from Chip Shatto. Roth's roar exploded and the pair lunged into Brown and his pack like enraged grizzlies.