A Good Gambler Knows How To Survive
It was a typical sunny morning in Rapid City, South Dakota when Alice Ivers put on that first pot of coffee and fried up some fresh eggs and bacon. She’d lost her husband, George a few months back, then she had lost the, “Poker Palace” and although her looks were long gone, she was still a strong and vital woman. It was time, she thought to herself, to get back into action. She missed the games more than anything else that life now offered.
Alice had come to America from England with her family when she was just a child, they settled in Virginia where her father taught school. At age twenty, she met and married Frank Duffield, a mining engineer and together they frequented saloons where she learned from Frank, the fine points of winning at Poker. She became quite accomplished and when Frank died, after an accident at one of the mines, where he was resetting dynamite. Alice met every challenge with courage and determination; making quite a name for herself, playing Poker.
Alice was a tough woman, clever in many ways and she carried a .38 with her at all times, after being threatened by a drunk in Deadwood. She’d gambled at many saloons from Leadville, Colorado to Texas and even in Mexico. Although it wasn’t the fashion for a young woman to be seen playing Poker in a saloon, in her younger years, Alice was a striking woman, well dressed and made a powerful of an impression on just about any man who challenged her.
This particular morning found her arriving at the local saloon, where she sat with her usual drink and a deck of new cards. Dressed like one of the boys, in her brown sweater and worn jeans, Alice sat at the table, practicing her shuffling technique and awaiting a game. There weren’t many takers this morning; a few of the local cowpokes stopped by for a drink or two, buying Alice a drink. She was known for her talents, as over the years she’d won thousands of dollars and even a few gold nuggets. Her winnings had enabled her to own a couple of rather profitable businesses and for decades, Alice had worn the finest of gowns. These days, her life was centered, around her favorite pastime, Poker and the occasional game of Faro, a game similar to Baccarat.
It was around 10:15am when Alice lit her fifth cigar and took a puff; that’s when Jim McCade sauntered in with some strangers. Alice watched the newcomers belly up to the bar and order drinks. She had them all sized up before one word was spoken. Then Jim noticed her.
“Morn’in Alice, it’s been a while, how’re ya doing?”
“I’m well Jim, you up for a game?”
“I reck’on so Alice, these here are my new hired hands, Eli Jenkins and Joe Peltier. Boys, this here’s Alice Ivers, the best Poker player in the west!” Jim said as he pulled out a chair and sat down with a bottle of whiskey. His companions quickly did the same.
“I ain’t never seen no female gambler b’fore.” Said Eli.
Joe snickered and tipped his dusty hat to Alice but, didn’t remove it. He put his money on the table and said, “I’m in for five.”
“Five?” Said Alice, “surely you can do better than that, Joe here ain’t skimpy when it comes to pay’in for hard workers, how about
twenty?”
Joe stopped and glanced at Eli and Jim. Jim smiled and Joe reluctantly added another fifteen to the pile. Eli met his bet, as did Jim and Alice began dealing. Five games later, Alice was raking up her dough with both hands and enjoying her eighth cigar.
“I warned you boys, Alice ain’t no amateur.”
Alice winked at Jim and began shuffling again. “Matt, bring these gentlemen another bottle of whiskey, I’m buy’in.” She shouted.
The bartender quickly brought another bottle and four glasses; no one could say that Alice wasn’t generous with her competition. She commonly bought a round or two after happily taking their money.
“How ‘bout another game boys to go with those drinks?” She asked.
“Don’t mind if I do,” replied Jim.
“Well, maybe one more game,” said Joe, “I’ve got to recoup my investment now, don’t I?” He sat up straight, pouring himself another shot of whiskey.
“I’m out,” said Eli.” “you fella’s go ahead, I got’ta get my spur fixed with what I’ve got left.” He leaned back to watch the game and poured himself another drink.
Alice glanced up and noticed that Carl Rogers, another rancher, had just walked in. “Carl, how ‘bout a game, honey? We need a fourth hand? Come have a drink.”
“Well now, Alice, I rec’kin I will; howdy folks.” He took off his hat and sat down, laid a bet on the table and Alice shuffled the cards.
A voice from the bar grew closer as a stranger walked up to the table. “It’s not too late to get in on this game is it?”
Alice looked up to see a dark stranger, about 35 years old, black hair and beard, dressed in a pin-striped suit of the finest materials and sporting a solid gold watch and fob on his vest.
“No sir’ee, you just sit right down and pour yourself a drink.” She added her favorite saying, “Praise the Lord and place your bets. I’ll take your money with no regrets.” She added and began dealing, “I don’t believe I’ve seen you around here before.”
“You haven’t, name’s Granger, Buck Granger.”
“Well Buck, I’m Alice. Boys Introduce yourselves.”
Introductions quickly went around and so did another shot of whiskey. The game was soon underway.
“Gim’mie two Alice,” said Jim as he discarded a couple of cards.
“Three Alice,” said Joe.
“Pass,” added Carl and Alice laid down one card and drew another.
Alice, on her usual winning streak, was as poker-faced as any other player. The game progressed pretty quickly and, Alice ended calling the hand.
Jim laid down two pair; Joe had one pair; Carl laid down a straight. Buck looked at Alice and laid down four fives and an ace. Alice’s face never changed, she remained as stiff-faced as a stone and slowly laid down a ten and four aces.
Buck reached over and took another shot of whiskey as Alice took her winnings. He downed a shot of whiskey and slammed down the glass, glaring at her. Then, he doubled his bet; they could see that this guy meant business.
Jim laid out this time as the others laid down their bets and another hand was dealt. This time Buck had a royal flush, the winning hand. Alice laid down her two pair and Buck started to take his money when Eli, who he was sitting next to, spoke up.
“Mister, I believe you cheated.” No sooner had he said it than Alice’s hand was on the .38 she carried at her side; she didn’t yet raise it above the table though.
“Now what makes you think I cheated?” Buck asked Eli.
“Well,” Eli responded, “I been watching these folks for over an hour now, a few minutes ago you reached into your coat pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes but didn’t light any smokes. Do you want to show us what’s under that pack of cig’s on the table? I think you’ve got a few cards tucked away.”
Buck jumped up, knocking over the chair, “I ain’t no cheater!” he yelled and put his hand on his gun but, it was too late. Alice had already raised her .38 and was glaring back at him; Joe’s colt was drawn just as swiftly as Alice’s.
Buck didn’t have a chance to pull his trigger when Alice fired the bullet that knocked his revolver out of his hand and it went sailing across the saloon floor; a bullet from it exploded through the ceiling. In seconds, the other men had tackled Buck and Alice reached for the pack of Buck’s cigarettes to reveal two aces beneath it.
The men were holding Buck tightly when Sheriff Daly walked into the saloon. He slapped on the handcuffs, commenting, “Darned if you aren’t the best shot I know of, Alice.”
Alice sat back down in the chair, her .38 tucked nicely into the holster on her side, and with the same stony poker face, lit another cigar.
Matt brought another bottle of whiskey to the table with more glasses, “Alice this round’s on me!” He said and the men sat down for another drink while Alice confidently shuffled.
Copyright, 2020, M.L. Kiser
Alice Ivers, aka, Poker Alice, was a famous female gambler in the Old west. She passed away in February of 1930 in South Dakota. Reference: © Kathy Weiser/Legends of America, updated October 2019. Read More: https://www.legendsofamerica.com/we-pokeralice/
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