“That’s three times lost, pals. I must fold my tent and …”
“No, no, don’t leave now! We got to win the damn stuff back. Deal!”
And as if struck, Cruesoe spun about and returned to the madness.
“The Queen was always there on the left,” he said.
Heads turned.
‘“It was there all the time,” Cruesoe said, louder.
“And who are you, sir?” The gambler raked in the cards, not glancing up.
“A boy magician.”
“Christ, a boy magician!” The gambler riffled the deck.
The men backed off.
Cruesoe exhaled. “I know how to do the three-card monte.”
“Congratulations.”
“I won’t cut in, I just wanted these good men—”
There was a muted rumble from the good men.
“—to know anyone can win at the three-card monte.”
Looking away, the gambler gave the cards a toss.
“Okay, wisenheimer, deal! Gents, your bets. Our friend here takes over. Watch his hands.”
Cruesoe trembled with cold. The cards lay waiting.
“Okay, son. Grab on!”
“I can’t do the trick well, I just know how it’s done.”
“Ha!” The gambler stared around. “Hear that, chums? Knows how it works, but can’t do. Right?”
Cruesoe swallowed. “Right. But—”
“But? Does a cripple show an athlete? A dragfoot pace the sprinter? Gents, you want to change horses out here—” He glanced at the window. Lights flashed by. “—halfway to Cincinnati?”
The gents glared and muttered.
“Deal! Show us how you can steal from the poor.”
Cruesoe’s hands jerked back from the cards as if burnt.
“You prefer not to cheat these idiots in my presence?” the gambler asked.
Clever beast! Hearing themselves so named, the idiots roared assent.
“Can’t you see what he’s doing?” Cruesoe said.
“Yeah, yeah, we see,” they babbled. “Eve