," she said, "how would _you_ play poker?"

Malone thought about that for a minute, and then turned to look for
Boyd. But Sir Thomas didn't even have to be given instructions. "Another
five hundred?" he said.

Her Majesty sniffed audibly. "Another five thousand," she said regally.

Boyd looked Malone-wards. Malone looked defeated.

Boyd turned with a small sigh and headed for the cashier's booth. Three
minutes later, he was back with a fat fistful of chips.

"Five grand?" Malone whispered to him.

"Ten," Boyd said. "I know when to back a winner."

Her Majesty went over to the table. The dealer had regained control, but
looked up at them with a puzzled stare.

"You know," the Queen said, with an obvious attempt to put the man at
his ease, "I've always wanted to visit a gambling hall."

"Sure, lady," the dealer said. "Naturally."

"May I sit down?"

The dealer looked at the group. "How about your friends?" he said
cautiously.

The Queen shook her head. "They would rather watch, I'm sure."

For once Malone blessed the woman's telepathic talent. He, Boyd and
Barbara Wilson formed a kind of Guard of Honor around the chair which
Her Majesty occupied. Boyd handed over the new pile of chips, and was
favored with a royal smile.

"This is a poker game, ma'am," the dealer said to her, quietly.

"I know, I know," Her Majesty said with a trace of testiness. "Roll
'em."

The dealer stared at her popeyed. Next to her, the gentleman in the
cowboy outfit turned. "Ma'am, are you from around these parts?" he said.

"Oh, no," the Queen said. "I'm from England."

"England?" The cowboy looked puzzled. "You don't seem to have any
accent, ma'am," he said at last.

"Certainly not," the Queen said. "I've lost that; I've been over here a
great many years."

Malone hoped fervently that Her Majesty wouldn't mention just how many
years. He didn't think he could stand it, and he was almost grateful for
the cowboy's nasal twang.

"Oil?" he said.

"Oh, no," Her Majesty said. "The Government is providing this money."

"The Government?"

"Certainly," Her Majesty said. "The FBI, you know."

There was a long silence.

At last, the dealer said: "Five-card draw your game, ma'am?"

"If you please," Her Majesty said.

The dealer shrugged and, apparently, commended his soul to a gambler's
God. He passed the pasteboards around the table with the air of one who
will have nothing more to do with the world.

Her Majesty picked