s 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 up her hand.

"The ante's ten, ma'am," the dealer said softly.

Without looking, Her Majesty removed a ten-dollar chip from the pile
before her and sent it spinning to the middle of the table.

The dealer opened his mouth, but said nothing. Malone, meanwhile, was
peering over the Queen's shoulder.

She held a pair of nines, a four, a three and a Jack.

The man to the left of the dealer announced glumly: "Can