“In every game of chance, there is an objective, and that objective defines what the astute player must watch. Do you knowvingt-et-un?”
“Each player must collect cards that total twenty-one,” Patience said.
“Precisely.” Arthur turned over the cards and spread them across the table. “You see that if you mean to have twenty-one, you will need a ten or a court card, along with an ace.”
“Yes,” Patience agreed, trying to find the mathematics. “So there are only twenty cards of real import?”
“Four,” he corrected, pulling out the four aces. “You cannot win without one of these.”
“But perhaps no one will have them.”
“Perhaps not.” He scooped up the cards and shuffled them again. “If we have six players and the dealer, that is seven by two or fourteen cards. What are the chances that one of those fourteen is an ace?”
“There are fifty-two in the deck, are there not?” At his nod, Patience thought about it, watching as he deftly dealt the cards, face down, two to each place as if there were seven players all together. “One in four?”
“Precisely. So, we assume there is at least one ace already in play, thus one person at the table has a chance of a winning hand. Now we wager.”
“Before looking at the cards?”
Arthur nodded. “A show of bravado, for it is based on no information at all.” He lifted a finger. “But it will reveal the nature of each player. Are they bold or meek? Do they assume their good fortune or do they wait to see?”
Patience smiled. “It is not just the cards you read.”
He grinned. “Not at all. The better you know your fellow players, the more readily their reactions can be read. I know one gentleman whose left eyelid ticks when he has an ace. I know another who only raises the stakes when he has at least twenty.”
Patience nodded understanding. How interesting that there were so many ways to anticipate the outcome, beyond the calculations he mentioned. She had a new appreciation for Arthur’s cleverness, for his decisions would have to be made instantly and in the presence of many distractions. “How do you do it so quickly?” she asked. “It must be almost instinctive.”
“It becomes that way. And drink must be avoided at all costs. It dulls the judgement and fuels one’s optimism.”
She nodded understanding, watching his hands.
“Once those wagers are made, we look at our cards.” He turned over the cards from the first pile to his left.
“The player would not show them to all, would he?” Patience asked.
“No, but we are learning.”
There was an ace and a deuce.
“One ace,” Patience noted.
“Though no one else knows, as yet. This player is asked whether he will stand or not. Of course, he will not. He asks for another card.” Arthur put the card on top. It was a three.
“Sixteen,” she said.
“Some would fold, but this player demands another.” Arthur snapped down the next card from the deck. It was an eight.
Patience winced. “Too much.”
“And he is out.” Arthur cast the cards into the middle of the table, face up. “He must pay his stake because he has lost. Now all the players know that one ace is accounted for.”
The next ‘player’ had a jack and a nine. Patience suggested he might hold and Arthur nodded.
She was next and discovered she had a queen and an ace, much to her delight. She said she would hold and Arthur nodded.
The next ‘player’ had an ace and a seven.
“I would hold,” Patience said but Arthur shook his head.
