The Gambler
“If the dice don’t get you, then the cards certainly will.”
Those were the last words your pappy spoke to you as you left behind the Arkansas farmhouse where you had grown for sixteen summers. For years after that, you scoffed at the stupidity of such a statement, the utter impossibility of your luck ever going that bad. After all, you had the gift. Everywhere you looked, opportunity stared back, and lady luck was always on your side.
Well, gift or not, the years that kept on rolling by had a way of making you wonder about the truth of the matter. Was the magic of your youth truly a blessing or more like a curse in sheep’s clothing? There were always ups and downs in the game, good times and bad, but the lucky lady never failed to come through when it really mattered. Never! So how in God’s name did you wind up sixteen grand in the hole to that bloodthirsty wretch, Hollis Sawthorne?
Times were changing. The West was changing. And now, you were beginning to worry that your luck was changing too. Staring down the barrel of a gun was never really your cup of tea. Sure you’ve been in your fair share of scrapes, but when push came to shove, you always managed to find a way to work the angle to your advantage.
When you found yourself taking a meeting with Hollis to discuss your financial standing, you started looking for the smoothest way out. Not an easy task when Hollis’ youngest boy, Kirby “Moose” Sawthorne, kept looking at you with those beady little eyes as he kept sharpening that cleaver. The words ‘a thousand dollars for each finger and toe’ rolled off of Hollis’ lips and smacked you right in the salty pouch. So when he offered you the chance to perform a service for him that would erase your threateningly large debt, you jumped at it.
All you had to do was take the stage from Ferose to Pokerstown and win a revolver away from some nine-fingered fella at the big poker game they were putting together down that way. The stated ease of the task put you on edge, but the glint of Moose’s cleaver made up your mind right quick.
One revolver, coming up.
Just have to keep your eyes peeled for the gent with a tattoo of a snake on his right wrist and make sure he has the particular revolver on him. The fact that there are words etched into the side of the barrel should make it no trouble to spot.
Last thing Hollis said was that I could certainly try to run if I wanted, and he did it with a knowing smirk. That bastard knew as well as I did that I couldn’t pass up a high stakes poker game and the chance to dance with lady luck one more time…even if my life depended on it.
Damn him. And damn her.
And damn my cursed luck.