Little Myth Marker By Robert Asprin

Following my system, I folded the next two hands, then hit them hard on the third. Most of the other players folded rather than question my judgment.

Grunk stayed until the bitter end, hoping I was bluffing.

It turned out that I was (my hand wasn’t all that strong), but that his hand was even weaker. Another stack of chips tumbled into my hoard.

“That does it for me,” Grunk said, pushing his remaining chips toward the Geek. “Cash me in.”

“Me too.”

“I should have left an hour ago. Would have saved myself a couple hundred.”

The Geek was suddenly busy converting chips back to cash as the game broke up.

Grunk loitered for a few minutes after receiving his share of the bank. Now that we were no longer facing each other over cards, he was surprisingly pleasant.

“You know, Skeeve,” he said, clapping a massive hand on my shoulder, “it’s been a long time since I’ve been whipped that bad at dragon poker. Maybe Pidge was right. You’re slumming here. You should try for a game with the Kid.”

“I was just lucky.”

“No, I’m serious. If I knew how to get in touch with him, I’d set up the game myself.”

“You won’t have to,” one of the other players put in as he started for the door. “Once word of this game gets around, the Kid will come looking for you.”

“True enough,” Grunk laughed over his shoulder.

“Really, Skeeve. If that match-up happens, be sure to pass the word to me. That’s a game I’d like to see.”

“Sure, Grunk,” I said. “You’ll be one of the first to know. Catch you later.”

Actually, my mind was racing as I made my goodbyes. This was getting out of hand. I had figured on one madcap night on my own, then calling it quits without anyone else the wiser. If the other players started shooting their mouths off all over the Bazaar, there would be no hope of keeping my evening’s adventure a secret… particularly from Aahz! The only thing that would be worse would be if I ended up with some hotshot gambler hunting me down for a challenge match.