Under a Turquoise Sky Read Online Free Page A

drunk.”
    â€œTown drunk?”
    â€œWell, as much of one as we got,” the man added. “He ain’t fallin’ down drunk all the time, but he does odd jobs for whiskey money.”
    Clint wondered what odd job Wooster had been doing in the hotel. Was he the go-between for the room switch that was supposed to take place? Did he get the amount of money wrong? At the moment the man was staring morosely into a glass of whiskey. Clint decided to leave him alone. He’d probably be able to get the whole story from Markstein at supper the next night, anyway.
    â€œThat an open game?” he asked the bartender, indicating a four-handed poker game that was taking place across the room.
    â€œYep. Anybody can play. Just walk over, sit down and put your money on the table.”
    Clint finished his beer first, because he didn’t like to drink at the poker table. The he walked over and did like the bartender said, he just sat down and put his money on the table. They dealt him in the next hand.
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    â€œSo what are we gonna do about him?” Edwards asked, indicating the poker-playing Gunsmith.
    â€œRight now there’s no reason to think he’ll get in our way,” Breckens said. “He just happened to be staying in a room down the hall from the commotion. But he did us a big favor.”
    â€œHow do you figure that?”
    â€œIf he hadn’t killed Dolan, then Dolan woulda killed our meal ticket,” Breckens said. “That fella from the East would be dead right now.”
    â€œJesus, you’re right.” He stared down into his fresh beer. “Maybe we need help with this?”
    â€œYou wanna split your end of the money?”
    â€œWell, no, I just thought—”
    â€œAnd I thought we said I was gonna do all the thinkin’,” Breckens said.
    â€œYeah, well—”
    â€œYeah, well nothin’, Aaron,” Breckens said. “Just drink yer beer and shut up. I’ll decide what we’re gonna do and when we’re gonna do it.”
    Breckens turned his attention away from his partner and back to Clint Adams, who seemed to have already accumulated some money in front of him.
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    Clint started doing well immediately because the other players at the table were so bad. Two of them were town merchants who played in the saloon regularly; the other two were like Clint, strangers passing through who were looking for a way to pass the time. They didn’t seem to know each other, but Clint didn’t like the coincidence of so many strangers at the same table, so he kept his eye on them.
    As it turned out, that was a good idea.
    Abruptly, the tide began to change in favor of the other two strangers. They weren’t taking Clint’s money, but they were doing a good job of taking money from the two merchants. It was a small-stakes game, but they were doing all right for themselves.
    It soon became apparent to Clint that the two men were cheating. Obviously they knew each other, but each had come to the game separately. They probably traveled from town to town doing this.
    Whenever one of them had a big hand, the other one began to build a pot by betting or raising with nothing, then getting out of the pot to leave it for his partner. They weren’t so much cheating—nobody was bottom dealing or anything—but they were working in tandem, which was almost the same thing. Poker was a solitary game, not a team game. Playing it that way was frowned upon.
    Clint was seated so he could see most of the room—he would not have joined the game otherwise—so he was immediately aware when the sheriff entered the saloon.
    â€œDeal me out a couple of hands,” he said, and stood up to go to the bar. That would make the two cheaters happy, because any time one of them had a hand, Clint would fold.
    He went to the bar, where the sheriff had gotten himself a beer.
    â€œAdams,” Sheriff Cafferty said. “Found