"What'll it be?"
"Straight poker dice," Hutchinson answered. "Go on and roll them
out."
Pentfield swept the dishes from the table with a crash and rolled
out the five dice. Both looked tragedy. The shake was without a
pair and five-spot high.
"A stiff!" Pentfield groaned.
After much deliberating Pentfield picked up all the five dice and
put them in the box.
"I'd shake to the five if I were you," Hutchinson suggested.
"No, you wouldn't, not when you see this," Pentfield replied,
shaking out the dice.
Again they were without a pair, running this time in unbroken
sequence from two to six.
"A second stiff!" he groaned. "No use your shaking, Corry. You
can't lose."
The other man gathered up the dice without a word, rattled them,
rolled them out on the table with a flourish, and saw that he had
likewise shaken a six-high stiff.
"Tied you, anyway, but I'll have to do better than that," he said,
gathering in four of them and shaking to the six. "And here's what
beats you!"
But they rolled out deuce, tray, four, and five--a stiff still and
no better nor worse than Pentfield's throw.
Hutchinson sighed.
"Couldn't happen once in a million times," said.
"Nor in a million lives," Pentfield added, catching up the dice and
quickly throwing them out.
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