Steve will wonder why you haven’t bet with me. He’ll know something is up. We’ll have to be more subtle.”
Sandy puzzled over the problem. He wanted to tap Steve, but the thought of actually paying for the Major’s shells was dreadful. The Major watched Sandy struggle with the dilemma before coming to his rescue.
“Suppose,” Peabody suggested, “you were to give me six cases of shells.” The word ‘give’ was emphasized. “Suppose you were to bet me a thousand dollars you’d get more birds than I would. Suppose - just between ourselves - we agreed any debt that might be owed as a result of our bet would automatically be cancelled. What would you think of that?”
Sandy looked shocked. “I think I’d be crazy to accept that one. I’d be sure to lose the price of six cases of shells.”
“Don’t be too hasty, Sandy,” Peabody said. “Let me explain. Steve is cagey. If he hears me take your thousand dollar bet, I think he’ll bet another thousand I’ll outshoot you. If he bets with you, you could win a thousand from him. What’s a case of shells worth down here? Ten bucks a box? Six cases? That’s six hundred dollars. You’ll make four hundred, net, if he bites.”
Sandy smiled. It sounded good to him, but he wanted to make sure. “How much money do you have?” he asked.
Peabody admitted to having thirty-two dollars and sixty-three cents.
“That’s it?” Sandy asked.
“Yup.”
“If Steve doesn’t bite, we cancel our bet and you owe me for the shells. Right?
“Right.”
“If Steve does make the thousand dollar bet, we cancel the shell debt and our own thousand dollar bet. Right?”
“Right’”
In order to make his proposition “suitable”, Sandy proposed some additional agreements. “First, we agree to reduce my investment from 6 to 4 cases of shell and you agree to shoot them all in the first two days. Right?”
“Right.”
Sandy’s final condition was: “You agree you won’t shoot more birds than I do during those first two days. Right?”
“Right.”
They shook hands. Peabody was pleased. At the very least, he got Sandy Hausman to provide four cases of shotgun shells. He might have to re-pay Sandy for the shells, but he’d gone a long way toward solving his cash flow problem.
Sandy was also pleased. He wouldn’t lose a cent if Gress didn’t bet. Peabody would have to pay for the shells. If Steve bet, Peabody would not outshoot him during the first two days and Peabody would be out of shells and with no money to buy them for the last day of the hunt. Sandy couldn’t lose. When Steve came to the patio, they were ready for him. They watched until he got close to the table - close enough to hear the Major say: “You’ve got a bet, Sandy.”
“What kind of a bet?” Steve asked and he learned Sandy bet a thousand dollars he’d drop more birds than the Major during their three day hunt. Steve had seen them both in action. He knew Major Peabody could outshoot Sandy any day of the week. Sandy was clever about it. He acted as if he was a bit reluctant to agree to Steve’s thousand dollar bet on Peabody.
At the end of the second day, the Major did well with the Perdiz, but fired injudiciously at the pigeons. He managed to shoot two birds fewer than Sandy Hausman. Peabody was out of shells and Sandy Hausman was happy.
* * * * *
During the flight back to Miami, it was Sandy’s time to be unhappy and Steve was gloating. At the end of the second day, while they waited on the patio for Sandy to join them, Peabody told Steve he was out of shells and out of money. Steve offered to give him two more cases for the next day’s shoot. The Major agreed to accept the shells, but only if Steve paid the tips owed to his guide and the lodge
Sweet Charity
It was one o’clock in the morning. The Coleman lantern shone through the window, giving a bit of outside light to a raccoon busily scattering the content of the garbage bag left next to the kitchen door. Inside the cabin, two men slouched in their chairs. A third had his elbows on the poker table and his head in his hands. They appeared to be dispirited and quietly contemplating some painful experience. The fourth man, Major Nathaniel Peabody was smiling and stacking the chips piled up before him.
“Gentlemen,” he said as he rattled the ice cubes in his empty glass, “Look upon it as a learning experience. When you compare the instruction you’ve received tonight with the costs of university tuitions, the lessons have been quite inexpensive.”
The silent hunters regained their voices. One of them snorted and complained: “The only thing I’ve learned is to avoid decks of cards that refuse to help me when I hold four card flushes”.
The man at the ice chest, now refilling Peabody’s glass, said: “The Poker Gods are the ones who failed to smile upon me. They’re the ones who have done me in.”
Without looking up, the hunter with his head in his hands muttered: “We should replace that Beware of the Dog sign with one that says “Beware of the Peabody”.
The Major showed no reaction to the unkind statement. “For nearly a century,” he explained, “psychiatrists have insisted personal responsibility no longer exists. They believe the ax murderer, who attempts to solve the world’s over-population problem in his own special way, is not responsible for his acts. Blame, they tell us, should be assigned to someone else - usually the killer’s parents who must have engaged in forcing him into potty training at too early an age.
“Ever since our prehistoric progenitor, Homo habilis, developed the opposing thumb and, thus, was able to shuffle a deck of cards, gambling losses have been blamed on bad luck. Shooting both barrels and missing every one of the ducks in the flock wheeling over your decoys has also consistently been blamed on bad luck.
“Yes,” he continued, “when things go wrong, it is the well established and time honored practice to point the finger of blame at someone else. However, I must disagree with you. I believe you err in blaming your collective misfortune at the poker table on bad luck, on the perversity of a deck of cards, on the Poker Gods or, for reasons I am unable to comprehend, on me.
“Anthropologists believe the dinosaurs evolved into modern day birds. Think of it. It’s truly an amazing feat. However, the genus Homo sapiens has accomplished an even more amazing achievement. It developed the concepts of Faith and Hope and Charity, the three most admirable qualities found in the human being. The facility to believe - to have faith, the ability to hope and the capacity to extend charity distinguishes mankind from the lower animals.
“It would appear the biblical pronouncement promoting Faith, Hope and Charity has not fallen on deaf ears. Tonight each of you has confidently confirmed your belief in those three admirable concepts. In spite of odds that would cause most men to muck their cards, you have displayed a surprising hope that the card needed to fill an inside straight or change two pairs into a full house would be dealt to you. Still, in spite of many disappointments, your faith in the delivery of the card has not wavered.
“I am particularly thankful for
