Roughshod
By Dale Chase
I was doing well at poker in Tombstone’s Oriental Saloon when the young fellow sitting to my right started going on about the dealer cheating. It annoyed me that I couldn’t assure him he was mistaken because doing so would reveal my fine array of cards. I hoped he’d quiet down so I could claim the pot, but this was not to be. Damned if he didn’t keep on ranting at the dealer, gaining in volume as he heated up. When he jumped up and drew his pistol, I jumped up too and knocked it away. This sent him reeling for a second before he sprang at me, fists flying. I put an end to this with a serious gut punch, then turned to the game and laid out my hand. When I’d scooped up the money, I bowed out and saw to the kid on the floor.
He was dazed, but took the offered hand a
