“I don’t know how to draw,” says the bride. “I guess I’ll throw these three away and keep my two deuces.”
So she throwed three away; and, as usual, she throwed ’em face up. Her discards was the six, nine and ten o’ diamonds. She’d broke up a straight flush, pat. Even Quinn could see that when he noticed what she’d sloughed off; but her three new cards had already been dealt and they was nothin’ to be done, only feel sorry for her.
My wife and Tuttle each drawed to a pair and didn’t help. I had the three, four, and five o’ spades and a deuce, goin’ in. I catched the ten o’ spades, makin’ me a plain flush. Mrs. Quinn best and I raised. Actin’ on her husband’s advice, she raised back, and I called. She’d hooked three clubs to her two deuces, and my flush looked like last night’s supper dishes.
“Now,” says Hatch, “I guess that’ll hold you.”
“I ain’t goin’ to cry about it,” says I. “I can lose thirty or forty cents without breakin’ down entirely.”
Tuttle got his when Marion dealt. The Missus opened ahead of him and he just dallied. I quit and so did the silent partner on my left. Quinn stayed and his baby throwed hers in the ash heap, because she wouldn’t compete against him.
The Missus took three. Tuttle ast for one and Mrs. Quinn turned it over on him. It was a heart and he was drawin’ to four o’ them. He grabbed it and was goin’ to keep it.
“You can’t take that one,” says Hatch.
“Who says I can’t?” says Tuttle.
“That’s the rules,” says Hatch. “You can’t take no turned card on the draw.”