They were celebrating in Beloit, Wis., last week after the regional office of the federal Bureau of Indian Affairs signed off on a tribal casino that’s been under consideration for more than five years.

What does that mean for the Inland Northwest, where the Spokane Indian Tribe and Washington Gov. Chris Gregoire’s office have agreed on a gaming compact that may end 15 years of litigation? Maybe plenty.

The Spokanes’ two facilities, one in Chewelah and one at the confluence of the Spokane and Columbia rivers, are the only tribal casinos in Washington operating without the state-tribe compact prescribed by the federal Indian Gaming Regulatory Act. Clearing that hurdle would allow the tribe to proceed with planned expansions at those operations, and it would allow the use of cash-operated slot machines, which have generated more controversy than they justify. In the long run, though, having a compact in place would position the tribe to propose a major casino in the Airway Heights area where the Kalispel Tribe already operates Northern Quest Casino.

Like Northern Quest, and like the Beloit facility – which would pump an estimated $40 million a year into a strained local economy – the Spokanes’ vision would take shape not on the reservation but on trust land acquired after 1988, when the federal law took effect. Historically, that’s been a barrier. The Kalispels are one of only three tribes in the nation to surmount it – so far.

But in Wisconsin, leaders of the St. Croix and Bad River bands of the Chippewa tribe have been encouraged to think they could be the fourth, largely because community support is solidly behind them.

The Kalispels managed to beat the odds in 1997 because of a provision in the federal law that recognizes the limitations posed by a tiny reservation with prohibitive terrain and no potable water. So they wound up in Airway Heights on land they bought in the Spokane Tribe’s traditional territory – a point the Spokanes have made repeatedly.

The Spokanes obviously can’t argue that their reservation keeps them from operating a casino; they run two already.

But a quick look around the nation suggests the federal government’s reluctance to OK off-reservation casinos is under pressure. More than a dozen off-reservation proposals have been put forward, and more are likely to follow. In southwest Washington, the landless Cowlitz Tribe has partnered with the East Coast Mohegan Tribe in hopes of siting what would be the fifth-largest casino in the nation.

The Mohegans are formidable bankrollers. They recently announced plans to expand their Mohegan Sun mega-casino in Connecticut in a project valued at three-quarters of a billion dollars.

Indian gaming is a $19 billion industry in the United States, and for the most part it has addressed a list of critical purposes – providing jobs, education, health care and various social services just as other governments do. That’s the upside.

But the point that mustn’t be lost on state and federal regulators, including those in this region, is that if off-reservation tribal casinos become the norm – rather than an exception to overcome economic disadvantages – wide-open gambling may follow, along with a proliferation of whatever social consequences it brings.

Sometimes, you gotta know when to fold ‘em.