well as the others, and Schultz raised them out--all except Lyte.
He did not like the German's tone, and he raised him back. Schultz
raised in turn, and in turn Lyte raised Schultz. So they went, back
and forth. The stakes were big. And do you know what Lyte held? A
pair of kings and three little clubs. It wasn't poker. Lyte wasn't
playing poker. He was playing his optimism. He didn't know what
Schultz held, but he raised and raised until he made Schultz squeal,
and Schultz held three aces all the time. Think of it! A man with
a pair of kings compelling three aces to see before the draw!

"Well, Schultz called for two cards. Another German was dealing,
Schultz's friend at that. Lyte knew then that he was up against
three of a kind. Now what did he do? What would you have done?
Drawn three cards and held up the kings, of course. Not Lyte. He
was playing optimism. He threw the kings away, held up the three
little clubs, and drew two cards. He never looked at them. He
looked across at Schultz to bet, and Schultz did bet, big. Since he
himself held three aces he knew he had Lyte, because he played Lyte
for threes, and, necessarily, they would have to be smaller threes.
Poor Schultz! He was perfectly correct under the premises. His
mistake was that he thought Lyte was playing poker. They bet back
and forth for five minutes, until Schultz's certainty began to ooze
out. And all the time Lyte had never looked at his two cards, and
Schultz knew it. I could see Schultz think, and revive, and splurge
with his bets again. But the strain was too much for him."

"'Hold on, Gregory,' he said at last. 'I've got you beaten from the
start. I don't want any of your money. I've got--'"

"'Never mind what you've got,' Lyte interrupted. 'You don't know