I watched the cycle go around the circle. The card player would turn their card face-up, see the number, and then frown in disapointment. Those around them chuckled and patted them on the shoulder in sympathy and then it would move onto the next player. For now the cycle skipped over me as I was the one with the trump card, but the game wasn't over yet. The objective of Speculation was to end with the highest number, not neccesarily begin with it.
I had learned--and won--the game at the Evans' the night they had invited me for dinner. However, in retrospect, I had suspicions of Mr. Evans letting me. I was determined to win on my own this time.
Finally, the robust man sitting across from me turned up something higher than my eight. A nine. He gasped and then laughed in triumph.
"What do you have to say to that, Mr. Samuelson?"
"Are you sure that's not upside-down?" I smirked, "I'll bet you three fish that's really a six."
The crowd around me rumbled with gentle laughter and the man only shook his head with a smile.
"I'm serious!" I grinned, getting up and pushing three fish-shaped counters across the table, "Three fish you make that a six."
"You can't do that!" a woman from the crowd argued, "He can only auction the card off, not change its number!"
"Oh but when I draw a queen, he'll be needing all the fish he can get to haggle, won't he?" I winked at the man but he only shook his head once more.
"Get back in your seat Samuelson."
Our audience laughed once more and I only played along, swiping up all three tokens and sinking back into my seat with a defeated scowl.
I didn't need Charles' suggestion to come to the Harvest Festival as the entire town seemed to be preparing for it. Besides that, I had fast grown fond of the social life here and taking opportunities to establish myself was no longer a job, but a indulgent pleasure. Charles' absence had given me the opportunity to experiment and stretch myself in ways not as possible otherwise. Rather than stalling my progress as we might've thought, it boosted it. And, according to his last letter, he had run across a childhood friend which, typical of my cousin, would delay him another two days. He had promised to finally return home the day after tommorrow.
In the meantime, I had a nine to beat.
"Ten!" another player to my right announced, winning a burst of cheers and laughter. I debated haggling them for it but feared that someone else had something yet higher up their sleeve, so I kept my peace.
Soon it was my turn. I flipped over to a three. I stared at the card long enough to win a few giggles and then back up at my opponents, "I know you all want it. Five fish, hand them over."
They laughed once more as the game continued. The man across from me drew my prophesied queen.
"How about those three fish, Mr. Samuelson?" he playfully gloated, winning his own good-natured outburst.
"A trump card like that for three fish? That's a bargain! I'll take it."
"Perhaps if you add three more."
"I'm only a rich man in reality, sir."
On my next turn I drew a five. It seemed everyone else had the better hands so I began a tactic normally only used by those who already had the trump card--buying players' cards that were still lying face down in order to prevent them from drawing any higher cards. Hopefully that would give me part of their better hands and I'd be able to best them rather than haggling for one of their high cards only for someone else to outdo me.
"Feeling confident, are we Mr. Samuelson?" another player sneered.
"Quite on the contrary," I replied, "Only a man truly in doubt of his abilities goes for the desperate tactics."
My stash of counters began to diminish as I gathered most everyone's face-down cards. Normally, this was a sign of a failing tactic but I really had nothing to lose. Especially once my rival drew a king. Many broke into gasps and mutters--the winner appeared obvious. Yet, everyone still had a couple cards left to flip so the game continued. A six, ten, eight, five, and queen later, it was my turn.
"I'd say this is about your last turn," he snickered. I flipped my card over and then, hiding the initial shock, slumped my shoulders with a sigh, "I guess so, Sir. Congratulations. " Then, the frown grew into a wide grin as I triumphantly held up my ace card, "You came in second."
The entire table errupted. Surprised laughs, cries of sympathy, gasps of disbelief, delighted clapping. We drew the attention of just about everyone else present at the festival but it was why Speculation was one of my favorites. People didn't get near as animated in a game of Vingt-Et-Un or Piquet.
My opponent was still laughing when he came over to slap me on the shoulder, "Very well, I'll let you have this one Mr. Samuelson. But what do you say to a rematch?"
"Just how much luck do you think I possess?" I laughed, "Winning against a man like you twice? I'd be tempted to cheat this time."
He chuckled at the compliment and then opened his mouth to reply, but someone else approached me first.
"Mr. Samuelson, I'm sorry I didn't mean to interrupt."
"Oh no, Mr. Ainsworth, " I shook my head and gently pulled away from my challenger, "You didn't."
"Yes," the other man chortled, "He was just trying to get out of the next round. You came to his rescue."
The banker smiled, "Well let me have a few words with him and then I'll let you resume your persuading."
He nodded with a grin and then stepped away politely to talk to another card player.
"I guess I could've approached you at a later time but you seem such a busy man I was afraid I'd miss you."
"I wasn't engaged in anything of importance," I said easily, "Is there something wrong?"
"No, not at all," he shook his head and then smiled, "Actually, I was wanting to invite you to a dinner at my home tommorrow night. My daughters would greatly enjoy your presence."
"Of course," I grinned, excited to have gained a favorable opinnion in the eyes of such a vital part of my plan, even after that noisy display, "I'd be most honored."
I had learned--and won--the game at the Evans' the night they had invited me for dinner. However, in retrospect, I had suspicions of Mr. Evans letting me. I was determined to win on my own this time.
Finally, the robust man sitting across from me turned up something higher than my eight. A nine. He gasped and then laughed in triumph.
"What do you have to say to that, Mr. Samuelson?"
The crowd around me rumbled with gentle laughter and the man only shook his head with a smile.
"I'm serious!" I grinned, getting up and pushing three fish-shaped counters across the table, "Three fish you make that a six."
"You can't do that!" a woman from the crowd argued, "He can only auction the card off, not change its number!"
"Oh but when I draw a queen, he'll be needing all the fish he can get to haggle, won't he?" I winked at the man but he only shook his head once more.
"Get back in your seat Samuelson."
Our audience laughed once more and I only played along, swiping up all three tokens and sinking back into my seat with a defeated scowl.
I didn't need Charles' suggestion to come to the Harvest Festival as the entire town seemed to be preparing for it. Besides that, I had fast grown fond of the social life here and taking opportunities to establish myself was no longer a job, but a indulgent pleasure. Charles' absence had given me the opportunity to experiment and stretch myself in ways not as possible otherwise. Rather than stalling my progress as we might've thought, it boosted it. And, according to his last letter, he had run across a childhood friend which, typical of my cousin, would delay him another two days. He had promised to finally return home the day after tommorrow.
In the meantime, I had a nine to beat.
"Ten!" another player to my right announced, winning a burst of cheers and laughter. I debated haggling them for it but feared that someone else had something yet higher up their sleeve, so I kept my peace.
Soon it was my turn. I flipped over to a three. I stared at the card long enough to win a few giggles and then back up at my opponents, "I know you all want it. Five fish, hand them over."
They laughed once more as the game continued. The man across from me drew my prophesied queen.
"How about those three fish, Mr. Samuelson?" he playfully gloated, winning his own good-natured outburst.
"A trump card like that for three fish? That's a bargain! I'll take it."
"Perhaps if you add three more."
"I'm only a rich man in reality, sir."
On my next turn I drew a five. It seemed everyone else had the better hands so I began a tactic normally only used by those who already had the trump card--buying players' cards that were still lying face down in order to prevent them from drawing any higher cards. Hopefully that would give me part of their better hands and I'd be able to best them rather than haggling for one of their high cards only for someone else to outdo me.
"Feeling confident, are we Mr. Samuelson?" another player sneered.
"Quite on the contrary," I replied, "Only a man truly in doubt of his abilities goes for the desperate tactics."
My stash of counters began to diminish as I gathered most everyone's face-down cards. Normally, this was a sign of a failing tactic but I really had nothing to lose. Especially once my rival drew a king. Many broke into gasps and mutters--the winner appeared obvious. Yet, everyone still had a couple cards left to flip so the game continued. A six, ten, eight, five, and queen later, it was my turn.
"I'd say this is about your last turn," he snickered. I flipped my card over and then, hiding the initial shock, slumped my shoulders with a sigh, "I guess so, Sir. Congratulations. " Then, the frown grew into a wide grin as I triumphantly held up my ace card, "You came in second."
The entire table errupted. Surprised laughs, cries of sympathy, gasps of disbelief, delighted clapping. We drew the attention of just about everyone else present at the festival but it was why Speculation was one of my favorites. People didn't get near as animated in a game of Vingt-Et-Un or Piquet.
My opponent was still laughing when he came over to slap me on the shoulder, "Very well, I'll let you have this one Mr. Samuelson. But what do you say to a rematch?"
"Just how much luck do you think I possess?" I laughed, "Winning against a man like you twice? I'd be tempted to cheat this time."
He chuckled at the compliment and then opened his mouth to reply, but someone else approached me first.
"Mr. Samuelson, I'm sorry I didn't mean to interrupt."
"Oh no, Mr. Ainsworth, " I shook my head and gently pulled away from my challenger, "You didn't."
"Yes," the other man chortled, "He was just trying to get out of the next round. You came to his rescue."
The banker smiled, "Well let me have a few words with him and then I'll let you resume your persuading."
He nodded with a grin and then stepped away politely to talk to another card player.
"I guess I could've approached you at a later time but you seem such a busy man I was afraid I'd miss you."
"I wasn't engaged in anything of importance," I said easily, "Is there something wrong?"
"No, not at all," he shook his head and then smiled, "Actually, I was wanting to invite you to a dinner at my home tommorrow night. My daughters would greatly enjoy your presence."
"Of course," I grinned, excited to have gained a favorable opinnion in the eyes of such a vital part of my plan, even after that noisy display, "I'd be most honored."
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