Piker

Upstairs in a waiting room there were pikers whose tunics echoed Baudricourt′s gold lion shield painted up and down the rafters.

By 1600, the ratio of pikers to gunmen was roughly 3:2. By mid-century the ratio was only 1:2, and by 1670 there was just one piker to every three gunmen in the French Army.

“[…] Them rich fellers, they don't make no bad breaks with their money. They watch it all th' time b'cause they know blame well there ain't hardly room fer their feet fer th' pikers an' tin-horns an' thimble-riggers what are layin' fer 'em. […]”

Bud swelled his chest and laid his hand on Jeff′s shoulder. “Just to show you I′m not a piker,” he cried recklessly, “I′ll bet you twenty-five dollars I can beat your Skeeter with my Smoky horse that I rode in here. Is it a go?”

“Now, boys,” said Marie walking up and down the bar, once or twice lifting her skirt to her knees and laughing. “The last bid′s $5,000. Say, ain′t you pikers a-goin′ to bid higher than that for this?" And another flick of her skirts. “Here′s a nice plump chicken awaiting for a home.”

“And if you′ve got to be a piker,” said Dolly, “don′t be ashamed to be a piker. We′re not spending a hundred dollars because we can afford it, but because you dreamt a dream.”

The golden nuggets in the stream at Sutter′s Mill in California made Croesus look like a piker, and Australia, the Klondike, and South Africa were yet to come.

Whatever else this cupcake might be up to, she was no piker. For everything the Q′s ordered, she added on more of the same.