Young Player Was More Than He Appeared to Be

By Sam O’Connor

The Duke of Fremont took his chair two seats from a pretty young girl, opened his violin case and spread $125,000 in front of him in his usual glorious display of gold money clips and sealed currency protectors. He smiled at the blue-eyed blonde.

“See? There was money in the violin case and you thought it was a Tommy gun.”

The young lady smiled and rolled her eyes. “Well, I didn’t think it was a violin.”

“I’d like the seat between The Duke and the girl when it becomes available,” a clean-cut young man announced to the dealer. “I’ve always wanted to be between a rock and a soft place. It beats the alternative.”

The girl was giggling and the Duke was flattered. The Duke spoke. “Well, sir, you are welcome to sit next to me. This seems like a friendly table.”

The young man returned the smile. “Yes, we’re all friendly poker players here, full of love and treachery.”

The Duke now had $125,200 in front of him, counting the red players’ checks the floorman had brought to the table. His diamond rings and gold bracelet blended with the money-filled gold clips and thousand-dollar bills. The black fedora and black pinstripe suit with a red carnation topped the grand appearance.

A Closer Look

The young man who had asked for the seat was soon able to make the change and, while it was the practice of most players to pretend not to stare at the Duke’s garishly displayed thousands, the envious young man glared at them indiscriminately.

He extended his hand. “Hello, Duke. My name is Johnny.”

“How do you do? Would you like a closer look at one of these? This one is a 1934 Series $1,000 Federal Reserve Note. There are only a few left in circulation.”

The Duke watched while Johnny carefully fingered the plastic currency protector containing the $1,000 bill and, at the same time, The Duke kept an eye on the game. It was no longer the game he had found when he first sat down; the game had lost its aggressive nature and the Duke had decided to take the lead in the action until it grew to the kind of game that would pay off his brand of trapping play.

Johnny passed the $1,000 bill back to the Duke. “They say you like to explore the trails of the Amazon now and then. Why would you do that?”

“It relaxes me after exploring the poker-infested trails of the Green Felt Jungle.”

‘You and Me, Duke’

Soon Johnny found himself in the small blind with the Duke on the button. The table folded to the Duke who, with 7-6 suited in a timid game, raised to either steal the blinds or create some advertising. Johnny in the small blind was the only caller.

“You and me, Duke. Who is the hunter and who is the prey? This will be fun.”

“Good luck to you, sir.”

The dealer flopped a rainbow of jack, ten and ace. No help for the Duke’s 7-6.

The young man checked and the Duke, having raised preflop, decided on a continuation bet, representing a pair of aces. He bet the size of the pot.

Surprisingly, Johnny called.

The turn gave the players an innocuous eight, making the rainbow complete.

But the eight gave the Duke pause. Would Johnny call a preflop raise with Q-9?

Or maybe he was slow-playing a set. Johnny checked and The Duke, sensing his opponent was drawing to a straight, continued to represent a pair of aces. The Duke again bet the size of the pot.

The young man raised only slightly more than the Duke’s bet but enough to put himself all-in.

With his opponent all-in, the Duke was committed and called the raise. Neither player showed his hand.

The river was not a card of great depth and mystery; it was the deuce of clubs.

The Duke glanced down and saw Johnny had one chip left. “That’s a surprise. I thought you were all-in.”

“No,” grinned the young man. “I have one dollar left. I check.”

The Duke, in disgusted resignation, threw in a one-dollar chip; Johnny might as well have this one, too.

Johnny looked at The Duke. “Well, sir, Mr. Duke, I’ve been on a straight draw and I missed. What’s worse, I still don’t have a pair. But this is one chip you’re not going to get.”

All eyes watched as Johnny tossed his pocket cards, 7-6, face up toward the middle of the table. His right hand held his last chip and he reached for the dealer’s shirt pocket while all eyes followed. As his right hand moved toward the dealer, his left hand moved slowly under his right arm and then smoothly behind the table rail. Johnny smiled tolerantly if not warmly at Keith, the dealer, and Keith nodded his appreciation.

Wait a Minute…

Although Johnny had shown his 7-6, The Duke decided not to show his. He was still amazed that he had avoided a split pot by betting just one dollar, and he wasn’t going to rub it in. Besides, it was better that the table continue to think he had a pair of aces or better.

As the Duke continued to get bad cards, he’d had his stroke of luck and he decided to go home.

Johnny, who had bought another three hundred dollars worth of chips, looked up at the Duke. “Good luck, Duke. It was nice getting to know you.”

The Duke picked up his money clips and currency protectors, one by one, and began placing them in the violin case. Then he turned to the empty table behind him and counted the items as he placed them in their assigned purple bags and found he was one money clip short. He counted them again and then turned white. A clip with $5,000 was missing. How could that be?

He glanced around the table and announced that the money was missing. Would somebody help him look for it? “It’s a gold money clip of 50 $100 bills.”

“Maybe it’s under the table,” offered the young man.

Some of the players scooted their chairs back and looked under the table. “There it is,” said Johnny who reached down in front of his chair and retrieved the five grand.

The Duke, greatly relieved, thanked Johnny, placed the clip in the violin case and began his march toward valet parking.

Wait a Second Minute…

As he walked, he reviewed the events. It was nice the way Johnny found the money. But how did it get under the table – and right in front of the young man’s chair? The Duke turned on his shiny heel and headed back toward the poker room. And another thing, the sudden appearance of the one-dollar chip was odd; it could have been palmed by Johnny so he’d have one chip left to give the dealer, an unusual thing to do.

As he entered the poker room, he found three security guards placing the young man in handcuffs, ready to escort him out.

Keith, the dealer, was on break and approached The Duke. “It turns out the kid’s real name is Jesse and he’s a known rail thief,” he explained. “Security instructed me to ask you to come to their office for a statement the next time I saw you. The casinos have the kid’s picture and have been looking for him for some time.”

The Duke was not surprised. “How did he do it? Did you see him do it?”

“No, but rail thieves all operate pretty much the same way, although I never knew one to use toking the dealer as misdirection. The kid’s pretty good. I guess he was hoping you wouldn’t count the money clips when you gathered them up.”

“Well, it’s the first time I lost a bundle in a poker game and got it back under the table.”

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Even the visitor knew that something deliciously sinister was constantly lurking in Las Vegas’ dark underbelly and something nefarious could be happening at that very moment. Sam O’Connor was part of the city in those Rat Pack days. Tales of Old Las Vegas reveals how those who ruled the city affected the lives of its inhabitants as well as some of the visitors who came for the excitement. Sam can be reached at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it .