Ace in the Hole (15 page)

They sent for a lawman from Gardner. In a conversation with Clint, the sheriff mentioned that they'd had a murder in town, a man named Tom Kent.

“Kent?” Clint asked.

“That's right. You know him?” Sheriff Jeff Owen asked.

“Well, yes, he's the sheriff of Virginia City.”

Sheriff Owen assumed that Kent had followed the gang to Gardner, tried to stop them from robbing the game, and was killed for his trouble. Clint thought there could have been another possibility—that Kent was in on it with them—but decided to keep his mouth shut.

The sheriff and some of his men loaded the bodies onto a buckboard and took them to town for the undertaker.

Clint joined John Deal on the front steps as the sheriff and his men pulled away.

“It was my fault,” Deal said.

“How so?”

“My security measures were…inadequate.”

“Well, yes,” Clint said.

“If not for you, we'd all be dead,” Deal said. “Not just my guards.” Deal turned to Clint. “You saved me, my staff and everybody in that room.”

“Johnny Conrad had something to do with that,” Clint said.

“Yes, he did. His brother is taking his body home, so he won't be playing tonight.”

“The game is going to go on?” Clint asked.

“Well, yes,” Deal said. “There is a lot of money involved.”

“That's what those men thought,” Clint said. “They didn't know that the money was in a bank in Sacramento and that the only thing on the table in that room were chips.”

“The winner will have to go to Sacramento, to Mr. Green's bank, to collect the money.”

“So all those men were killed for nothing,” Clint said.

“Yes,” Deal said.

“You're right, Mr. Deal,” Clint said.

“About what?”

“It was your fault.”

Clint went down the steps and headed for the livery to saddle Eclipse. He didn't want anything further to do with this game.

“Clint!”

He turned when he heard his name, and saw Arliss Morgan trotting toward him.

“You're not leaving,” the banker said.

“I am.”

“But what about the game?”

“You'll have to play for yourself,” Clint said. “A lot of men were killed last night. I can't just forget that and sit down to play poker.”

“But—”

“No buts, Arliss,” Clint said. “And if I were you, I'd check with your wife when you get back to Virginia City.”

“My wife?”

“She's the only one you gave all the details to, right?”

“She wouldn't—”

“Don't kid yourself,” Clint said. “Most women would for that much money.”

“Look, I'll make your end bigger—”

“It's not the money, Arliss,” Clint said. “I don't need the money.”

“Well, I do,” the man hissed. “I need to cover certain…reversals.”

“You did steal money from your own bank, didn't you?”

Morgan stood speechless.

“It's all in your hands now, Arliss,” Clint said. “I'm done.”

He left the banker standing there with his mouth open, then Clint headed for the barn.

He didn't know how many of the other players were staying, and it really didn't matter. He wouldn't think any less of them. There was a lot of money involved, as Morgan and Deal both said. And for men who gambled for a living—like Dick Clark and Micah McCall—it was all about the money.

It just wasn't about the money for him.