"No. Go ahead." Methodically Rafferty broke the seal, spilled the cards out, flipped the jokers to one side, and riffled through the deck. There were fifty-two of them, all right, and they looked good. He started to shuffle. The first few hands passed quickly. Steel was a quiet, noncommittal player who seemed to have a tremendous reserve of calmness. It wasn't too surprising, thought Rafferty, considering it wasn't his dough at stake. But a shill has professional pride. The first three deals were in the nature of warmups, and Rafferty emerged from them twenty or thirty credits to the good. He felt the cards moving the right way; luck was with him tonight. He wondered if he could come away with a million. The Casino had no limit. Fourth hand he decided to experiment with some offensive tactics. Steel dealt; Rafferty scooped up his cards and looked them over. Jack, Four, Eight, Seven, King. Spade, club, spade, heart, diamond. Coolly he fanned the cards out and pushed a hundred credits toward the middle of the table. Steel saw him. "How many?" "I'll stand pat." "So will I." "Five hundred," Rafferty said. "See that and raise it a hundred." "I'll bump to two." "I'm with you," Steel said. "What do you have?" Without a facial flicker Rafferty exposed his hand. "Jack high. You?" "You beat me. It's your kitty." Rafferty scooped the pot in, frowning inwardly. He'd made his bluff--but Steel had been bluffing right along with him. It was only luck that the little man hadn't been holding a Queen. Rafferty pulled Jack high again on the next deal, took three, came up with nothing and folded. On the next hand both men played it cautiously and Rafferty dropped fifty credits when Steel's pair of kings took his tens. Next deal, Rafferty again came up with nothing. Inwardly he cursed; the cards weren't coming as well as they had. He decided to bluff again, since the previous attempt hadn't yielded any information about his opponent's tactics. This time he pushed the bet up to a thousand before calling. "Three sevens," Steel said. "You beat me," Rafferty said, and collapsed his hand. "Mind if I look?" Steel said. "Yes," said Rafferty. He was surprised; it was a rank amateur's trick to ask to look at a hand that had been tossed in. Coming from a cool customer like Steel, it didn't make much sense. But slowly Rafferty began to fathom the way his opponent's mind worked. And slowly, as his genius for the game asserted itself, Rafferty began to win. By 2100 his pile of chips totalled near fifty thousand. It was enough to pay off Walsh and still come out with a comfortable profit for the evening's work--but Rafferty didn't want to quit. He didn't play the game that way. He decided to go for a killing. He had Steel figured, now and he could take the house for a fortune. Nursing three jacks and a pair of fours, he pushed the betting higher and higher. Steel kept right with him. "Three thousand? I'll see you and raise one."