The First Night:
The cowboy shifted closer to the fire. His mule and horse were tied up not three feet from him. He used an old blanket as a headrest, the night was cool, and the cowboy was tired from his journey.
From the darkness a form appeared. A tall man, in a three piece suit, twisting a gold watch in his hands.
The cowboy placed a hand on his rifle next to him.
“How’re you doing this evening stranger?” Asked the cowboy.
“Mighty well. How about yourself?” Replied the man.
The cowboy shifted upwards. “I’m doing fine myself. Where are you off to tonight?”
The man placed the watch in his waistcoat pocket. “I’ve got an appointment.”
“Let me not keep you then,” the cowboy stated.
“Very well. Before I continue on, how about a game?” The man asked.
“I’m no good at cards, but if you’ve got something else in mind, I’d be obliged to a game before I drift off,” the cowboy replied cheerily.
“How about Liar’s Dice?” The man asked. The cowboy nodded curtly in response.
The man procured two sets of worn dice and two cups.
The cowboy set up a small table using stones a nearby piece of firewood. The two grabbed their dice and cups, gave them a shake, and slammed them down. Using the dancing firelight, they glanced at the results of the dice. From under the brim of his hat, the cowboy took stock of the man, trying to guess what lie under his cup.
“Two threes,” said the cowboy.
“Five fours,” said the man.
“Four fives,” said the cowboy.
“Three sixes,” said the man.
“In the most polite way possible, I’m calling you a liar sir. Flip 'em.”
The two flipped their cups, revealing the results. Two threes, one six, three fours, and four fives.
“Congratulations cowboy. You have luck on your side. Sleep well,” the man ominously said.
“Adios compadre,” the cowboy muttered as he laid down and put his hat over his eyes.
The Second Night:
The sun was setting rapidly, and the cowboy’s fire was just starting to blaze. He was enjoying the remains of his beans, mopping them up with some biscuits. Owls hooted in the distance.
From out of the darkness, the man in the suit stepped into the ring of firelight.
“If it isn’t the sharp dressed man from last night. How have you been sir?” Asked the cowboy.
“Very well, if a bit famished. Starving to death almost,” the man replied.
The cowboy exhaled and showed his plate. “If I had any more beans and bread I’d offer em to you, but I wasn’t expecting company, apologies.”
“It’s alright, I’ve got a feeling that my hunger will be satiated before long. Speaking of which, how about a game?” The man asked, twirling his pocket watch once again.
“Shoot, I’m on a full belly, so I don’t know how quick I’ll be here, but if you got something in mind spit it out,” the cowboy explained.
The man brought out three wooden figurines. One of a man, and two wolves. They were worn down, covered in nicks and dents.
“Hey those are pretty nifty, did you carve them yourself?” Asked the cowboy.
“I did indeed. They’re quite old. I made them when I was very young. They’ve always held a certain sentimental value to me. And I’ve kept them for occasions such as this,” explained the man.
Once again they built a table using stones and firewood. The man placed the three wooden figurines on top of the firewood surface, and then covered them with cups.
“Close your eyes,” the man told the cowboy.
The man shuffled the cups around.
“Choose. Pick a wolf, you lose, pick the man, you win.”
The man exhaled. “I ain’t ever play this one before. Shoot. Been pretty lucky lately. I’ll choose the left cup, got a good feeling in my gut.”
The man flipped the left cup over. Underneath was the wooden figurine of a man.
“Congratulations cowboy. You win. See ya around,” the man said, gathering the figurines and disappearing into the shadows.
“Adios compadre,” said the man set the firewood back on the pile and the stones around the ring, and then laid back and drifted off to sleep.
The Third Night:
The night was young. Crickets chirped their song, and the footfalls of nocturnal animals occasionally burst through the night. The cowboy had a wonderful fire blazing. He was eating his dinner of beans and biscuits, but had added some spices he’d acquired during his travels to the mix. It was a special night.
At present, the man in the suit appeared, smiling broadly, twirling his pocket watch.
“Evening sir! I expected you this time around! Cooked up enough beans for you to have some as well!” Exclaimed the cowboy. He set out a second plate and poured some beans on them, and put two biscuits aside them.
The man was clearly surprised, but sat down and started eating the meal. His eyes danced with delight. “This isn’t too bad! I haven’t had a meal this tasty in quite awhile. The seasoning is very excellent, where did you get it?”
“The same place I’m headed actually. Nevada,” the cowboy stated with a whiskered smile.
“Interesting. You know the drill cowboy. How about a game? You’ve won the past two nights, but I’ve a feeling your luck is running out,” the man said as he finished his dinner.
“I’d be a coward to refuse. What do you prepose this evening? No cards, don’t forget,” the cowboy noted.
“It’s simple,” the man said, revealing a silver dollar. It was decently scratched up, the same as the figurines. “Just the flip of a coin.”
He flicked it up into the air, caught it, and slapped it down on the firewood table.
“Call it.”
“Heads,” the cowboy announced.
The man took away his hand. Lady liberty, the heads of a silver dollar, shone upwards.
“Congratulations cowboy, you’ve won,” the man said, slipping the coin into his pocket. “I think this will be our last game for awhile.”
He started to walk away.
“Where are my manners. I’ve forgotten to ask your name sir,” the cowboy said, dusting his hand off and offering it to the man.
“Well, I’m Death,” said the man with a grin.
The cowboy was taken aback. “Woo boy. I reckon then the wager for these games was my life?”
The man nodded back slyly. “And I can’t figure out how you’ve managed to beat me every time. It is inevitable I win of course. But here you are, managed to gain the victory over me three times.”
This time it was the cowboy’s turn to grin. “Well I’m Samuel Beckett.”
The man put his pocket watch up. “That name doesn’t meany anything to me. Why are you headed to Nevada, Mr. Beckett?”
“To visit my lovely wife,” the cowboy explained.
The man raised an eyebrow. “Who’s the lovely lady?”
“I figured you might know her, she’s Lady Luck of course.”