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padding-top: 1px } + + .coverpage, .titlepage, + .contents, .foreword, .preface, .introduction, .dedication, .prologue, + .epilogue, .appendix, .glossary, .bibliography, .index, .colophon, + .footnotes, + .cleardoublepage { page-break-before: right; padding-top: 1px } + + .vfill { margin-top: 20% } + h2.title { margin-top: 20% } +} +</style> +<style type="text/css"> +.pageno { position: absolute; right: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; } +.pageno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } +.toc-pageref { float: right } +pre { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap } +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 37477 ***</div> +<div class="document" id="taking-chances"> +<h1 class="document-title level-1 pfirst title">TAKING CHANCES</h1> +</div> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> +</div> +<div class="container" id="pg-produced-by"> +<p class="noindent pfirst">Produced by Roger Frank, Mary Meehan, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at <a class="reference external" href="http://www.pgdp.net">http://www.pgdp.net</a>.</p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> +</div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost x-large"> +<div class="line">BY</div> +<div class="line">CLARENCE L. CULLEN</div> +</div> +<div class="center large line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line">AUTHOR OF</div> +<div class="line">"Tales OF THE EX-TANKS."</div> +</div> +<div class="center large line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line">G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY</div> +<div class="line">PUBLISHERS</div> +<div class="line">NEW YORK</div> +</div> +<div class="center large line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Copyright, 1898-1899-1900, By</span></div> +<div class="line">THE SUN PRINTING AND PUBLISHING ASSOCIATION.</div> +</div> +<div class="center large line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Copyright, 1900, By</span></div> +<div class="line">G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY.</div> +</div> +<hr class="docutils"/> +<div class="contents level-2 section" id="id1"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title">CONTENTS</h2> +<ul class="compact simple toc-list"> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#introductory-note" id="id2">INTRODUCTORY NOTE.</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#this-wiretapper-was-color-blind" id="id3">THIS WIRETAPPER WAS COLOR-BLIND.</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#whooping-a-race-horse-under-the-wire" id="id4">"WHOOPING" A RACE-HORSE UNDER THE WIRE.</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#just-like-finding-money" id="id5">JUST LIKE FINDING MONEY.</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#this-son-of-fonso-was-of-no-account" id="id6">THIS SON OF FONSO WAS OF NO ACCOUNT.</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#hard-luck-wail-of-an-old-time-trainer" id="id7">HARD-LUCK WAIL OF AN OLD-TIME TRAINER.</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#story-of-an-almost-combination" id="id8">STORY OF AN "ALMOST" COMBINATION.</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#red-donnelly-s-streak-of-luck" id="id9">"RED" DONNELLY'S STREAK OF LUCK.</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#and-red-beak-jim-took-the-tip" id="id10">AND "RED BEAK JIM" TOOK THE TIP.</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#the-game-of-running-ringers" id="id11">THE GAME OF RUNNING "RINGERS."</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#experiences-of-a-verdant-bookmaker" id="id12">EXPERIENCES OF A VERDANT BOOKMAKER.</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#the-man-who-knew-all-about-touts" id="id13">THE MAN WHO KNEW ALL ABOUT TOUTS.</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#a-copper-lined-cinch-that-did-go-through" id="id14">A "COPPER-LINED CINCH" THAT DID GO THROUGH.</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#he-coppered-his-wife-s-hunches" id="id15">HE "COPPERED" HIS WIFE'S "HUNCHES."</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#a-race-horse-that-paid-a-church-debt" id="id16">A RACE HORSE THAT PAID A CHURCH DEBT.</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#a-seedy-sport-s-string-of-horses" id="id17">A SEEDY SPORT'S STRING OF HORSES.</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#this-telegram-was-signed-just-bub" id="id18">THIS TELEGRAM WAS SIGNED JUST "BUB."</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#story-of-a-famous-pat-hand" id="id19">STORY OF A FAMOUS PAT HAND.</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#great-luck-at-an-inopportune-time" id="id20">GREAT LUCK AT AN INOPPORTUNE TIME.</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#card-playing-on-ocean-steamers" id="id21">CARD-PLAYING ON OCEAN STEAMERS.</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#this-dog-knew-the-game-of-poker" id="id22">THIS DOG KNEW THE GAME OF POKER.</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#wind-up-of-a-train-game-of-poker" id="id23">WIND-UP OF A TRAIN GAME OF POKER.</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#queer-pacific-coast-poker" id="id24">QUEER PACIFIC COAST POKER.</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#the-proper-time-to-get-cold-feet" id="id25">THE PROPER TIME TO GET "COLD FEET."</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#cato-was-just-bound-to-play-poker" id="id26">CATO WAS JUST BOUND TO PLAY POKER.</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#finish-of-an-educated-red-man" id="id27">FINISH OF AN EDUCATED RED MAN.</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#the-uncertain-game-of-stud-poker" id="id28">THE UNCERTAIN GAME OF STUD POKER.</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#this-man-won-too-often" id="id29">THIS MAN WON TOO OFTEN.</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#the-nerve-of-gamblers-at-critical-moments" id="id30">THE NERVE OF GAMBLERS AT CRITICAL MOMENTS.</a></span></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#the-insidious-game-of-squeeze-spindle" id="id31">THE INSIDIOUS GAME OF SQUEEZE-SPINDLE.</a></span></li> +</ul> +</div> +<hr class="docutils"/> +<div class="level-2 section" id="introductory-note"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id2">INTRODUCTORY NOTE.</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">To the man who, at any period of his days, has been +bitten by that ferocious and fever-producing insect colloquially +known as the "horse bug," and likewise to the +man whose nervous system has been racked by the depredations +of the "poker microbe," these tales of the turf +and of the green cloth are sympathetically dedicated. The +thoroughbred running horse is a peculiar animal. While +he is often beaten, the very wisest veterans of the turf +have a favorite maxim to the effect that "The ponies +can't be beat"—meaning the thoroughbred racers; which +sounds paradoxical enough. Poker, too, is a mystifying +affair, in that all men who play it appear, from their own +statements, to lose at it persistently and perennially. +There is surely something weird and uncanny about a +game that numbers only losers among its devotees. However, +poker-players are addicted to persiflage. The +genuine, dyed-in-the-wool, blown-in-the-bottle pokerist +rarely acknowledges that he is ahead of the game—until +the day after.</p> +<p class="pnext">These stories, which were originally printed in the columns +of the New York <em class="italics">Sun</em>, belong largely to the eminent +domain of strict truthfulness. If they do not serve to +show that the "horse bug" and the "poker microbe" +are good things to steer clear of, they will by no means +have failed of their purpose; for the writer had nothing +didactic in view in setting them down as he heard them.</p> +<p class="pnext right"><span class="small-caps">Clarence Louis Cullen</span>.</p> +<p class="pnext"><span class="small-caps">New York</span>, <em class="italics">Sept. 1, 1900.</em></p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="this-wiretapper-was-color-blind"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id3">THIS WIRETAPPER WAS COLOR-BLIND.</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">And His Visual Infirmity Cost Him $15,000 and His Reputation.</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">"I went down to New Orleans a couple of months ago +to get a young fellow who was pretty badly wanted in my +town for a two-months' campaign of highly successful +check-kiting last summer," said a Pittsburg detective +who dropped into New York on a hunt last week. "I +got him all right, and he's now doing his three years. +I found him to be a pretty decent sort of a young geezer, +although a born crook. I don't remember ever having +had such an entertaining traveling mate as he was on the +trip up from New Orleans. Before we started I asked +him if he was going to be good or if it would be necessary +for me to put the bracelets on. He gave me an on-the-level +look and said:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'No, I don't think it will. But I pass it up to you. +I don't want to throw you. All I ask is, don't give me +too much of a chance if you keep the irons off of me. I +wouldn't be jay enough to try a window-jumping stunt, +but don't give me a show to make either one of the car +doors. If you do I may have to give you a run for it.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, I could see that he would be all right without +the cuffs, and so I didn't put 'em on him. He rode up with +me in the sleeper all the way from New Orleans to Pittsburg—I +let him do the sleeping, though, of course—and +he had a drink when I did and played quarter ante when +I did, and none of the rest of the passengers were any +the wiser. He was a clinking good talker and he told +me a lot of interesting stories of queer propositions that +he had been up against. For instance, when we were running +through the Blue Grass region of Kentucky, he +turned to me and asked me where the blue grass was. +I told him that the term blue grass was largely ornamental, +and that, while the grass down there was no +doubt high-grade and the limit as fodder for thoroughbreds, +I thought it was mostly green, like the grass the world +over.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well, I'm blooming glad to hear you say that,' he +replied. 'It proves that I'm not color blind on the whole +gamut of colors, anyhow. If you'd said there really was +blue grass in these fields we're running through, I'd have +given myself up as a bad job in the matter of distinguishing +colors. But as long as the grass is green like other +grass—well, there's some hope for me.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Color-blind, eh?' I asked him.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Yes, I guess I am, more or less,' he replied. 'I +never knew it, though, until last spring, and it cost me +$15,000 to find it out.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Expensive information,' said I. 'How'd it happen?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'If you'll undertake to forget about it by the time +we get to Pittsburg, I'll tell you,' he said. 'I was fooling +around one of the big towns—one of the biggest +towns on this side of the Mississippi—last spring, when +I met up with a couple of wiretappers that got me interested. +They were the real kind—not fake tappers who +rope fellows into giving up coin just by showing 'em +phony instruments in shady rooms, but professionals, who +really knew how to tap the wires and pull down the +money. They had been working together for some time, +and when I happened to meet them they had just pulled +off a swell hog-killing up in Toronto and had two or three +thousand each in their clothes. They had only recently +struck the big town, and, as they had never operated there +before, they didn't have to do any sleuth dodging. Neither +did I, although I was doing a bit of business in the +check line occasionally, and was about a thousand to the +good when I met them. We hitched up together, the +three of us, for a drosky whirl, and then they told me +that, while they made it a rule not to let outsiders into +their game, they thought I was good enough to be admitted +to a good thing that they were about to pull off.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'One of the largest and best patronized of the poolrooms +of the town was 'way on the outskirts of the city. +The duck that runs it is worth close on to a million, and +the ticket writers have instructions never to turn any +man's money down, no matter how big the sum or how +lead-pipey the cinch he appears to have. Lumps of +$20,000 and $30,000 have frequently been taken out of +that poolroom on single tickets, and it's one of the few +poolrooms where track odds are given.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'My two new pals had sized up the layout, and when +I met them they already had things fixed to pull down a +few comfortable wads. They had rented a vacant frame +cottage about 300 yards across a big vacant lot from the +poolroom, and, by a little night work—they were both +practical wiremen, as well as expert telegraphers—had +got the wire into a room on the second floor of the house +all right. It was prairie land all around and slimly frequented +territory, and they had no trouble in rigging up +the wire paraphernalia, which they carried alongside a +picket fence to the porch of the cottage, and thence upstairs. +They had the thing all tested, and every dot and +dash that reached the poolroom registered also in the second +floor of that cottage.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'One of the fellows had formerly worked in a poolroom +himself and he had the race code down as pat as +butter. They took me out to have a look at the layout, not +because they wanted a dollar out of me, for they were on +velvet, but simply because they both seemed to take a kind +o' shine to me, and it surely looked good. I spent two or +three afternoons in the second floor front room where the +layout was fixed, and the chap who was expert with the +racing code broke the report direct from the track a dozen +times and sent it in himself, after having mastered the +operator's style at the track end of the line, and the poolroom +operator was never a bit the wiser. It was good, all +right, that layout, and when they were all ready to begin +work I was in on the play.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'We decided to make the first killing on the day the +Belmont Stakes were to be run for at Morris Park. I +was against their starting it off on such a big stake event, +especially as the race looked to be such a moral for Hamburg, +but they said stake events were as good as selling +races in their business, and so we had a little rehearsal +and stood by. My end of the job was to happen in the +poolroom. I was to locate there by a dust-covered window +that looked out of the poolroom across the big vacant lot +to the frame cottage where the layout was installed and +wait for the signal. The signal was to be made by means +of a handkerchief waved in the air by one of the fellows +from the window. The color of the handkerchief was to +tell the name of the winner. For instance, if Hamburg +won a white handkerchief was to show at the second-story +window; if Bowling Brook captured the stakes a +yellow handkerchief was to be the signal, and so on. +When I got the signal I was to put the money down on +the winner, the tapper was to hold the result from the +pool operator for five minutes to give me time to get the +money down, and then I was just to wait for the poolroom +operator to announce the race. It was the easiest +thing in life, and it would have gone through with a rush, +not only on that race, but on a whole lot of other ones +later on, if I hadn't been color blind.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I was on hand in the poolroom on the afternoon that +we were to do business and I put a few dollars down on +the first races at Morris Park, just for the sake of getting +the ticket writers used to my face and to avert suspicion. +I had a pretty fair line on the horses in training then and +I won two or three out of the bets that I played simply +on form. The fourth race on the card was for the Belmont +Stakes, and after the third race had been confirmed and +the first line of betting came in on the stake race I lounged +over to the dust-colored window and looked uninterested. +But I had the tail of my eye on the window of that frame +cottage all the time, nevertheless. I had $2,000 of my +pals' money in my clothes and $1,000 of my own. I was +a bit nervous, but I knew that I had a pipe, and I also +knew that the poolroom people had mighty little show to +get next. I had all kinds of a front on me then, and a +$5,000 or even larger bet was, as I say, not so unusual in +that poolroom as to scare 'em or cause 'em to become suspicious.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well, the second line of betting came in, with Hamburg +the natural favorite at 4 to 5 on in the betting, +Bowling Brook 4 to 1 against and the rest at write-your-own-ticket +figures. The poolroom took in thousands of +dollars of Hamburg money, for nobody in the +big crowd that surged about the poolroom could figure +any other horse in the race to have a chance. I +myself thought it was a sure thing for Hamburg, +but I wasn't playing thinks, but cinches, and so I just +stood at that window and waited for the signal. I was, I +suppose, somewhat excited internally when I thought of +the possibilities of the game, but nobody knew it. The +poolroom operator announced, 'They're at the post at +Morris Park,' and then I knew that 'ud be the last direct +communication he'd have with Morris Park until after +the running of the Belmont Stakes. I leaned there on that +window, with one hand resting on my chin comfortably, +waiting for the flutter of the handkerchief away across the +vacant lot. The sun shone brilliantly, and the window of +the frame cottage was in plain view, and I didn't figure it +as among the possibilities that I could make a mistake.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well, when the whole crowd in the poolroom had become +sort o' mute with expectancy and the betting at the +desk was almost over, I got the signal. It was the quickest +flash in the world, a white handkerchief, as I was perfectly +positive, nervously waved three times from the second-story +window of the frame cottage. I didn't see my +pal waving the handkerchief—only the flutter of the +white handkerchief which announced that Hamburg had +won. So, without any apparent excitement, but in the +laziest kind of a way in the world, I just yawned, stretched +my arms, and remarked to a few fellows standing nearby:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'"What's the use of doping over the race. It's a pipe +for Hamburg. I'm going up and put a couple of thousand +on Hamburg."</p> +<p class="pnext">"'So I walked up to the desk, passed over six $500 bills +and said "Hamburg." The ticket writer took the money +without any visible emotion and wrote me a ticket. Then +I walked out among the crowd to hear the calling off of +the race, which I knew would happen within three or four +minutes.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'"They're off for the Belmont," the operator shouted +in about three minutes, and then said I to myself, "What +an exercise gallop for Hamburg! What a dead easy way +of picking up large pieces of money!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I wasn't worried even a little bit when Bowling +Brook was 'way in the lead in the stretch.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Hamburg's just laying in a soft spot right there, +third, and when it comes to a drive, how cheap, he'll make +a crab like Bowling Brook look!</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Then the operator, after the ten seconds' delay following +the announcement of the horses' positions in the +stretch, called out:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'"Bowling Brook wins!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Say, I'm not an excitable kind of a duck, nor dead +easy to keel over, but, on the level, my head went 'round +and I had to grip hold of a chair top when I heard that +announcement. I couldn't make it out. It seemed out of +the question. I knew that my two pals hadn't dumped me, +because hadn't I played $2,000 of their money? At first +I thought the operator made a mistake, and I waited with +a spark of hope for the confirmation of the race. The confirmation +came in. Bowling Brook had walked in, and +Hamburg had been disgracefully beaten.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'An hour later I met my two pals downtown. They +greeted me with grins, and held out their hands for the +thousands.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'"Thing didn't go through, did it?" I said to them. +"Where was the mistake, anyhow? What was the white +handkerchief—Hamburg's signal—waved for?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"'They looked at me savagely. They were positive +that I had tricked them—that I had really played Bowling +Brook with the money and was holding it out on them.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'"White handkerchief be blowed!" said the man +that had given the signal, pulling a light yellow handkerchief +from his pocket. "What color do you call this?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well, then I saw how the mistake had been made, +and that I had made it. In the brilliant sunshine I had +mistaken the light yellow handkerchief for a white one, +and it was up to me. They didn't give me a chance to get +in a word, though, for they believed, and believe yet, I +suppose, that I had thrown them, and they both hopped +me at once. I had to put up the fight of my life, but I +downed them both finally with the aid of a chair and a +spittoon, and got away. That's how I lost $15,000—counting +the winnings we'd have made had I played +Bowling Brook that time—by being color blind.'"</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="whooping-a-race-horse-under-the-wire"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id4">"WHOOPING" A RACE-HORSE UNDER THE WIRE.</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">A Novel Method of Treating Sulky Thoroughbreds That Often Works Profitably.</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">"I see they hollered an old skate home and got him +under the wire first by three lengths out at the Newport +merry-go-round the other day," said an old-time trainer +out at the Gravesend paddock. "Don't catch the meaning +of hollering a horse home? Well, it's scaring a +sulker pretty near out of his hide and hair and making +him run by sheer force of whoops let out altogether. +This nag, Kriss Kringle, that was hollered home at Newport +a few days ago, is a sulker from the foot-hills. He +was sold as an N. G. last year for $25, and at the beginning +of this season he prances in and wins nine or ten +straight races right off the reel at the Western tracks, +hopping over the best they've got out there. Then he +goes wrong, declines to crawl a yard, and is turned out. +They yank him into training again awhile back, put him +up against the best a-running on the other side of the +Alleghanies, and he makes 'em look like bull-pups one +day and the next he can't beat a fat man. He comes near +getting his people ruled off for in-and-out kidding, and +then, a couple of weeks ago, or maybe a bit less, he goes +out and chews up the track record, and gets within a second +of the world's record for the mile and three-eighths, +I believe it was.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Then, Tuesday they have him in at a mile and a sixteenth, +with a real nippy field, as Western horses go. The +right people, knowing full well the old Springbok gelding's +propensities, shove their big coin in on him anyway, +and take a chance on him being unable to keep up +with a steam roller after his swell race a while before, and +the whole crowd fall into line and bet on Kringle until +the books give them the cold-storage countenance and +say, 'Nix, no more.' Then they get up into the stand +and around the finishing rail and they see the aged Kriss, +who's a rank favorite, begin like a land crab, when he +usually goes out from the jump and spread-eagles his +bunch. They begin the hard-luck moan when they see +the sour son of Springbok trailing along third in a field +of five, and they look into each other's mugs and chew +about being on a dead one. Turning into the stretch, the +old skate is a poor third, and stopping every minute, a +plain case of sulks, like he's put up so many times before. +The two in front of him have got it right between them, +when Kris comes along into the last sixteenth, still third +by a little bit, and then the gang let out in one whoop +and holler that could be heard four miles. It's 'Wowee! +come on here, ye danged old buck-jumper!' and +'Whoop-la! you Kringle!' from nearly every one of the +thousand leather lungs in the stand and up against the +rail, and the surly old rogue pins his ears forward and +hears the yelp. Then it's all off. The old $25 cast-off +jumps out like a scared rabbit at the sixteenth-pole. The +nearer he gets to the stand the louder the yelping hits him +and the bigger he strides; and he collars the two in front +of him as if they were munching carrots in their stalls, +and romps under the string three lengths to the good. +That's what hollering a horse home means. It's a game +that can only be worked on sulkers. The yelling scares +the sulker into running, whereas it's liable to make a good-dispositioned +horse stop as if sand-bagged.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I've seen the holler-'em-in gag worked often at both +the legitimate and the outlaw tracks, and for big money. +One of the biggest hog-slaughterings that was ever made +at the game was when an Iroquois nag, a six-year-old +gelding named McKeever, turned a rank outsider trick at +Alexander Island, Va., in 1895. The boys that knew what +was going to happen that time surely did buy it by the +basketful for a long time afterward. McKeever was +worth about $2 in his latter career, and not a whole lot +more at any stage of the game, according to my way of +sizing 'em. As a five and six-year-old, he couldn't even +make the doped outlaws think they were in a race, but +his people kept him plugging away on the chance that +some day or other he might pick up some of the spirit of +his sire, the royal Iroquois, and pay for his oats and +rubbing, anyhow. When he was brought to Alexander +Island in the spring of '95, and tried out it was seen that +he was just the same old truck-mule. One morning, +after he'd been beaten a number of times by several Philadelphia +blocks, when at 100 to 1 or so in the books, his +owner had him out for a bit of a canter around the ring, +with a 140-pound stable boy on him. A lot of stable boys +and rail birds were scattered all around the infield, assembled +in groups at intervals of 100 feet or so, chewing +grass and watching the horses at their morning work. +This old McKeever starts around the course as if he's +doing a sleep-walking stunt. The boy gives him the +goad and the bat, but it's no good. McKeever sticks to +his caterpillar gait, and his owner leans against the rail +with a watch in his mitt and mumbles unholy things +about the skate. There's a laugh among the stable boys +and the rail birds as McKeever goes gallumphing around. +Then a stable lad that's got a bit of Indian in him leans +over the rail just as McKeever's coming down, and lets +out a whoop that can be heard across the Potomac. McKeever +gives a jump, and away he goes like the wind. +It looks so funny to the rail birds along the line that +they all take up the yelp, and McKeever jumps out faster +at every shout. He gets to going like a real, sure-enough +race horse by the time he has made the circuit once, and +he keeps right on. The owner gets next to it that it's +the shouting that's keeping the old plug on the go, and +he waves his arms and passes the word along for the +boys to keep it up. McKeever does six furlongs in 1:14 +with the assistance of the hollering, and the owner takes +him off the track, gives him a look-over and some extra +attention, and smiles to himself.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Then he pushes McKeever into a six-and-half furlong +race on the following day. He stations about twenty +or twenty-five rail birds, all of 'em stable boys out of +a job, in the infield, and hands them out their yelling instructions. +McKeever is up against one of the best fields +of sprinters at the track, and he goes to the post at 30 +to 1 and sticks at that. His owner puts a large +number of his pals next to what's going to happen, +and not a man of them plays the good thing at the +track. They have their coin telegraphed in bundles +to the poolrooms all over the country. McKeever +gets out in front, and he hasn't made more than +a dozen jumps before one of the kids inside the rail +throws a whoop that makes the people in the stand put +their hands to their ears. McKeever gives a swerve and +a side step, and away he goes like the Empire State express. +A hundred feet further, when he's four +lengths in the lead, and the others, including the even +money shot, nowhere, a couple more rail birds shoot out +another double-jointed yell, and McKeever jumps out +again like an ice-yacht. He gets the holler at every 100 +feet of his journey, the rail birds not taking any chances +on his stopping, although after the first furlong he is six +lengths to the good, and the result is that McKeever simply +buck-jumps in, pulled double, with eight lengths of +open daylight between him and the even money shot. The +owner looks sad, like a man who hasn't put a dollar down, +and says real hard things to McKeever when the horse +is being led to his stable. When he gets him inside his +stall, though, the hugs and loaf sugar that fall McKeever's +way are a heap. The old-time poolroom people +will tell you yet how they had to turn the box, a good +many of 'em, the day that McKeever was hollered home +at old Alexander Island.</p> +<p class="pnext">"And, talking about Alexander Island, there were +some funny ones yanked off over there, sure enough, +some of them almost as funny as a few that happened over +in New York at the legit tracks this passing season. +Without hurling out any names, I'll just tell you of how +a plunger who has been a good deal talked about this +year, on account of his big winnings, got the dump-and-the-ditch +at the hands of a poor-but-honest-not owner at +Alexander Island in the same year of 1895. This plunger +wasn't such a calcined tamale in those days as he is now, +but he was some few, and he generally had enough up +his sleeve in order to keep him in cigarettes and peanuts; +which is to say that he had a winning way about him, +and access to everything that was doing at that outlaw +track. He dealt in jockeys quite a lot, giving them their +figure with a slight scaling down, according to his own +idea of what was coming to them for being kind to him. +He was wise and he was haughty, and toward the wind-up +of that Alexander Island season he fell into the notion, +apparently, that things had to be done his way or the +kickers fade out of the game.</p> +<p class="pnext">"This poor owner that I'm talking about went on to +Alexander Island with an ordinary bunch of sprinters, all +except one filly, that was real good, but a bit high in +flesh, and not ripe. It was a filly that could as a matter +of fact beat anything at the track, being right and on +edge, and she had the additional advantage of not being +known all about. The poor owner has his own boy +along with him, and he's pretty hard up. He sticks this +filly in a six-furlong event, with the idea of really going +after the purse, which he requires for expenses. He +knows that the filly isn't right, but he dopes it that she +can beat the lot pitted against her, anyhow, and he really +means her to win. He tells his boy to take her right out +in front and get as good a lead as he can, so that in case +her flesh stops her the rest'll never be able to get near +her. That's the arrangement right up until post time. +The filly—well, suppose we call her Juliet—is not very +well known at Alexander Island, and she has 5 to 1 +against her.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Now, it happens that this plunger knows all about +Juliet being, as I say, a pretty fast proposition, but he +doesn't think she can win in her condition, and, anyhow, +he has something doing on another one in the race; he has +so much doing in the race, in fact, that all the rest of 'em, +except Juliet, are dead to the one he has picked to play. +The plunger digs up the owner of Juliet and says to him:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'My son, your baby won't do to-day.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'She'll make a stab, though,' said the owner. 'I need +the cush, being several shy of paying my feed bills. The +game has been throwing me lately. She's going to try.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'You need the purse, hey?' said the plunger. 'That's +not much money. Only $200, ain't it? How'd $500 +do?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Spot coin?' asks the impecunious owner.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Spot coin after my weanling gets the money.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'You're on,' says the poor-but-honest-not owner. +'I'm not any more phony than my neighbors, but it's a +case of real dig with me just now. Juliet'll finish in the +ruck. Are you cinchy about the one you've got turning +the trick?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'It's like getting money in a letter,' says the plunger.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'All right,' says the poor owner, 'you can walk +around to my stall and push me the five centuries after +they're in.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"The poor owner saw his boy, and Juliet's head was +yanked off, with the boy's toes tickling her ears. She +could have won in a walk, short of work as she was, but +the boy had a biceps, and he held her down so that the +plunger's good thing went through all right.</p> +<p class="pnext">"After the race the plunger, who had made a great +big thing out of it, hunted up the poor owner and beefed +about the $500. He said that he hadn't been able to get +as much money on his good one as he had expected and +asked the poor owner to compromise for $300. The +plunger's poor mouth doesn't tickle the poor owner a +little bit, but he is a pretty foxy piece of work himself, +and he takes the three hundred without letting on a particle +that he thinks it a cheap gag. The plunger goes +away thinking he has the poor owner on his staff for +good, and the poor owner makes sundry and divers resolutions +within himself, to the general effect that the next +time he does business with that plunger he'll know it.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, the poor owner doesn't race his good filly again +for a couple of weeks, and all the time she's getting good. +He gives her her work at about 3 o'clock every morning, +in the dreamy dawn, so that nobody gets onto it just how +good she is getting. He shoots her in about two weeks +after he has been dickered down by the plunger. He +knows that she's going to win, and with his other skates +he has picked up nearly a thousand wherewith to play +the Juliet girl to win. On the day before the race the +plunger comes to him again.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I see you've got that nice little girl of yours in to-morrow,' +he says. 'How good is she?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'She's got a show for the big end of it,' says the poor +owner.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Um,' says the plunger. 'Well, she'll only be at 5 to +1, whereas I've got a cinch in that that'll be as good as +15 to 1. Do you think we can do a little business?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'On a strictly pay-in-advance basis, yes,' says the +poor owner, chewing a straw. 'Maybe I'll be able to see +my way to delivering the goods for a thousand down. +Otherwise I win.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"The plunger made a terrific beef, and tried persuasiveness, +oiliness, bull-dozing the whole works, with the poor +owner.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Why,' he says, 'I can buy all the Juliets from here +to Kentucky and back for a thousand.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Yes,' says the poor owner, 'but you can't shove a 15 +to 1 shot through every day, either. Let's not talk about +it any more. You've got my terms. Thousand down, +right now, and Juliet will also ran. No thousand, +Juliet walks, and I'll get the coin anyhow by betting on +her.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"He got the thousand two hours before the race was +run. The poor owner looked Juliet over, and called his +boy into a dark corner of the stable.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Take her out in front, son,' he said, 'and tow-rope +them. Don't let 'em get within a block of you. I'll send +your mother a couple o' hundred after you fetch her +home.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'She'd win with a dummy on her,' says the kid.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Then the poor-but-honest-not owner takes the thousand +he already has in his kick, and the thousand the +beefing plunger has given him, and spraddles it all over +the United States on Juliet at from 5 to 7 to 1.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Juliet wins by fourteen lengths, and the plunger, +with his mouth twitching, hunts up the owner of Juliet. +All he gets is a line of chile con carne conversation, and, +finally, a puck in the eye.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Do others or they'll do you' isn't the way they used +to teach it when I went to Sunday-school," concluded +the old-time trainer, "but there are occasions when the +rule just has to be twisted that way."</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="just-like-finding-money"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id5">JUST LIKE FINDING MONEY.</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">A Bottled-up Cinch That Came Off at One of the Chicago Tracks.</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">"The first bet that I ever put down on a horse race," +said a horse owner and trainer at an uptown café the other +night, "was on a horse that stood at 100 to 1 in the betting. +It was also the first race I ever saw run by thoroughbreds. +I was clerking in a Long Island City grocery +store for $8 a week at the time, and I didn't know a race-horse +from a ton of coal. I got a couple of my fingers +crushed between two salt fish boxes one morning, and I +had to lay off from work. I didn't want to hang around +my room, and didn't know what to do with myself, and +so when a no-account young fellow I knew suggested that +I go over with him to Monmouth Park and have a look at +the races, I fell in with the proposition. Besides the +remains of my previous week's pay, about $3, I had $20 +saved up out of my wages, and I kept this in one $20 note +in my inside vest pocket. After paying for round-trip +tickets for my friend and myself, and for two tickets of +admission to the race grounds, I was practically broke +with the exception of a few cents, for I didn't count the +$20 as available assets. I intended to hang on to that unbroken. +Well, I found that all my sporty friend wanted +of me was to have me pay his way on the train and into +the grounds, for he promptly lost me as soon as we got +by the gate. I felt pretty sore at this treatment, not that I +wanted his help, for I hadn't the least idea of doing any +betting with my savings, but I didn't cotton to the notion +of being played for a good thing and then thrown that +way.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I walked around among the crowd with my hands in +my pockets, wondering a good deal over the dope talk +of the ducks that knew all about the horses and their preferred +weights, distances, riders, and so on; it was all +Greek to me then. Finally I was shouldered and jostled +into the betting ring. It wasn't long before I began to +rubberneck at the prices laid against the horses on the +bookies' blackboards. Although I didn't know anything +about the nags then, I found out afterward, when I had +made a study of the game and got a little next to it, that +this race I made my first bet on was composed of a cheap +mess of fourteen selling platers. They were at all kinds +of prices, from 4 to 5 on to 100 to 1 against. The latter +price was laid about three of 'em. I didn't exactly understand +what the 100 to 1 meant, and so I asked a fellow +standing near by to explain it. He looked me over out of +the slants of his lamps, thinking, probably, that I was +stringing him. When he saw that I was a green one he +told me that the 100 to 1 meant that if a 100 to 1 shot won +that I had put a dollar on I'd be $100 ahead of the game. +This looked pretty good to me. I didn't know anything +about horse form or horse quality then, and I thought that +one of 'em had just as much chance as another to win. +So I picked out the 100 to 1 shot whose name I liked best +and elbowed my way up to a booky's stand to put a dollar +down on it, holding my $20 bill tightly gripped in my +hand. I passed the twenty up to the bookmaker—he went +broke, and has been a dead 'un for a good many years +now—and said:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Give me a dollar's worth of that fourth horse from +the top—that one with the 100 to 1 chalked before his +name.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"The booky looked down at me contemptuously, without +accepting the twenty I proffered him, and said:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I don't want no dollar bets.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, this made me feel pretty cheap, especially as all +of the ducks back of me, waiting to pass up their fifties +and hundreds gave me the laugh. I didn't like to be shown +up in that public way. I was just as sore at that time +about being made to look like thirty cents as I am to-day. +So I did a bit of lightning thinking. 'Twenty's a big +bunch to me,' I thought, 'and I've had to hop out of bed +at half past 3 in the morning to go to meat market a good +many times to get it together; but I'll be hanged if I'm +going to let this fellow get away with his idea of making +me look small, even if I haven't got a show on earth.' So +I passed the bill up to him again, saying:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'All right, there, billionaire. Just gimme $20 worth +of that fourth horse from the top, with 100 to 1 chalked +before his name.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"I was chagrined to find that this strong play didn't +help me a little bit. The booky only grinned as he chanted, +'Two thousand dollars to $20 on the fourth one from the +top,' and the chap that wrote me the ticket grinned back +at him, and the crowd behind me again gave me the +hoarse hoot, loud and long continued. I'll bet I was blushing +on the bottom of my feet when I snatched the ticket +and hurried away from that booky's stall, with the +chuckles of the hot-looking members ringing in my ears. +Well, my horse walked in.</p> +<p class="pnext">"When I went to cash my ticket for $2,020 the booky +sized me up, with all kinds of wrath in his eyes.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'A good make-up you've got for a Rube,' he said to +me. 'You're good. That's the most scientific commissioner +act I've seen pulled off up to date, and I've been +at this game ever since Hickory Jim was a two-year-old.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"I didn't know what he was talking about. The word +commissioner was particularly mysterious to me, but I +wasn't going to let him put it on me again, and I like to +have drove him crazy with the slow grin I gave him. He +chucked the bundle of $2,020 at me, and I just walked +backward with it in my hands and grinning at him. He +was the maddest-looking man I ever saw, before or since. +I didn't go back to my grocery job, nor did I hop in and +slough off my $2,000 on a game I didn't know anything +about. I didn't play another horse that year, but went in +and made a study of the game, going to the tracks every +day to see 'em run and to think the whole institution over. +It has taken me all of the years that have passed since to +find out that the study of horse racing don't amount to a +row of spuds, that study doesn't beat the game. I simply +had a series of lucky plays after I figured it that I knew +all there was to be learned about horse racing, and those +plays put me on the velvet I've had to a greater or less +extent ever since. I don't often play them now—I've got +a fairly nifty string, and I run 'em and let the other fellows +do the guessing.</p> +<p class="pnext">"What set me to thinking about this first play of mine +was a letter I received the other day from an owner, who's +racing his string down at New Orleans, about the win of +that plug Covington, Ky., the other day. The price laid +against Covington, Ky., was at first 150 to 1, and the +rail birds in the know battered it down to 60 to 1 at post +time, throwing all kinds of misery into the layers when +the plater romped in, after being practically left at the +post. My friend says in his letter that a big bookmaker +declined to take a dollar bet from one of the wise rail birds +on Covington, Ky., at 150 to 1, and that the young fellow +got chesty, dug into the pocket where he kept his silver, +found $2 in quarters and halves, and handed the $3 to +the bookie on Covington, Ky., to win. The layer took the +money and it cost him $450. The bookie, my friend writes +me, has been poked in the ribs over the thing by his fellow-layers +ever since.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I don't often pay any attention to good things," continued +the turfman, "and it's rarer still that I am compelled +to regret my indifference to the bottled-up cinches, +but, in common with about 3,000 other people, I overlooked +a proposition at Lakeside last fall that caused me +several minutes' hard thinking. I didn't lose any money +over it, but it's hard to think of the inside chance I neglected +on that occasion to make an old-fashioned hog killing. +I had four or five of my three-year-olds out at Lakeside +and was pulling a purse down with 'em once in a +while, and depending on the purses to keep me even with +the game and strong for hay money. I wasn't doing any +betting; I took my confirmed indifference to good things +along with me to Chicago, and I think now, looking back +at the season, that I made a bit of a mistake in doing so, +for if there's any place in the country outside of the outlaw +tracks where good things do have a habit of going +through right often, then that place is Chicago. I didn't +profit by any of 'em that were made to stick last fall, however, +although I saw many a sure thing soaked down from +20 to 1 to 4 to 1 at post time, and then come in romping +with all the money. A lot of men I knew out at Lakeside—fellows +with small strings, none of which ever won or +got in the money—were on all kinds of velvet by giving +ear to the inside good things, but they didn't make me +jealous a little bit. I'm in the game for keeps, and that's +more than can be said for the good-thing players.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Anyhow, for all that, I'm still regretting that I overlooked +this chance I'm speaking of. I was in a Dearborn +street hang-out for racing men one night, along toward +the wind-up of the racing season, when a boy came inside +and told me a man out at the front door wanted to see me. +I went out and found a drunken stable hand waiting for +me. He was employed as a general stable roustabout by +the owner of a California string, and I had befriended the +man in the paddock a few days before when he was engaged +in a rum fight with another stable hand. He was +getting the worst of the scrap when I stepped in and +pulled his antagonist off of him. It didn't amount to anything, +this, but the tank stable hand that was waiting for +me outside of the Dearborn street place in the rain seemed +to feel grateful to me for it.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Hello, Bill,' said I to him, 'what's up?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Got fired this afternoon,' he replied.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Broke?' I asked him.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I didn't hunt you up to touch you, boss,' he said. 'I +got a good thing I want to give to you. You've been +square to me. The good thing's to come off to-morrow, +and nobody's on. I'm preaching on it because I've been +dropped from the track just for getting a skate on, and +because I want to put you next, that's been on the level +with me.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'You can pass me up,' I told the man. 'I don't play +the sure ones, you know.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'But this is ripe, and it's going to happen,' persisted +the man. 'It's a baby. It's a looloo. It's a cachuca. It's +that filly Mazie V. in the two-year-old race to-morrow. +You know who's stable she belongs in. I heard the chaw +about it this afternoon before I got fired, and they didn't +get on to it that I was listening. Mazie V.'s going to walk +in to-morrow. No dope, but she's fit. She worked three-quarters +in .15 flat early yesterday morning when nobody +was looking, and she's on edge. They're going to burn up +the books with it. I know that nobody can tout you, and +I'm not trying to tout you. But here's a chance, and I +came down to let you know.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, of course I had to thank the man, but I couldn't +help but grin at him at that.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'How long have you been rubbing 'em down?' I +asked him.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I've been around the horses since I was ten years +old,' he replied.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'And still so easy?' I couldn't help but say. 'Well, +I won't say anything of what you've told me so as to queer +the price, if there's any play on Mazie V., but, of course, +as for myself, I pass it up; thanks all the same to you. +Need any money?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"No, he didn't want any money, he said. He had +simply hunted me up to put me on to one of the best +things of the meeting, and he shambled off.</p> +<p class="pnext">"When the books opened for that two-year-old race +the next day, Mazie V., a clean-limbed filly that had never +shown a particle of class, opened up the rank outsider in a +big field, which included some very fairish two-year-olds. +I looked the books over, not because I was betting, but +just out of habit, and I saw that every nag in the race was +being played but Mazie V., the 150 to 1 shot.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'If they're going to burn the bookies out on Mazie +V., I thought, amusedly, 'it's a wonder the stable connections +don't take some of this good 150 to 1.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"As I was thinking this over, the ex-stableman who +had hunted me up with the Mazie V. good thing the night +before plucked me by the sleeve. He was several times +as drunk as an owl, and I didn't care to talk with him.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Are you down?' he asked me, lurching. 'Because 'f +you ain't, you're campin' out, an' that's all there is to it.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Go and take a sleep,' I told him, and passed on. But +he didn't want any sleep. Instead, he drunkenly mounted +a box that he found in the betting ring, and started to +make an address to the hustling bettors.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Hey!' he shouted, 'if you mugs want to git aboard +for the barbecue, play Mazie V. She's going to be cut +loose. She's a 1 to 10 chance. She's going through. It's a +cinch.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"The crowd guyed him.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'It's so good,' shouted the poor devil, 'that I just +put the last $8 I got on earth on her to win—not to show, +but to win. Hey! I'm not touting. I'm trying to give you +all a win-out chance. You needn't think because I ain't +togged out that I'm a dead one on this. Even if I have got +a load along, why'——</p> +<p class="pnext">"Just then somebody, probably an interested party, +kicked the box from under the man and he went sprawling. +That closed him up. The crowd roared, but not a +man in the gang, of course, put down a dollar on Mazie +V. If any of the pikers had even a dream of doing such a +thing the stable hand's drunken recommendation of the +filly switched them off. Just before the horses went to the +post the $5 bills of people that weren't pikers, but stable +connections, went into the ring in such quantities on +Mazie V. that she closed at 100 to 1 in a few of the books, +and at much smaller figures in most of the others.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, the way that little filly Mazie V. put it all over +her field was something ridiculous. The race was something +easy for her. There was nothing to it but Mazie V. +She got away from the post almost dead last, and then +picked up her horses at leisure, revelling in the heavy going, +and, loping up in the last sixteenth, walked in with +daylight between her and the favorite. It was one of the +killings of the Chicago racing season, and the books were +soaked to over $20,000 on $5 bets.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'That certainly is hard money to lose, to say the least,' +I heard poor Mike Dwyer mumble on the day that he took +1 to 15 on Hanover, putting down $45,000 to win $3,000, +and Hanover got himself disgracefully beaten by Laggard. +And that's what I think about that Mazie V. good +thing—hard money not to have won."</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="this-son-of-fonso-was-of-no-account"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id6">THIS SON OF FONSO WAS OF NO ACCOUNT.</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">But When He Did Take It Into His Head to Run One Day, the Bookmakers Were Damaged.</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">An old-time trainer, who is trying out a bunch of +yearlings and keeping up a lot of old campaigners out at +the old Ivy City track near Washington, was chewing +wisps of hay the other afternoon and thinking aloud.</p> +<p class="pnext">"One of the things that I can't exactly figure out," said +he, "is whether I'm a ringer-worker or on the level. That +proposition has been bothering me a heap in the middle of +nights right along since the fall of '87. I got into the center +of a game then that has kept me apologizing to myself +ever since. And, then, again, that plug wasn't a sure-enough +proper ringer. And I didn't put him over the +plate, either. My end of it was only to cop out a few, +and all I had to do was to——</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, anyhow, I went down to a yearling sale in Kentucky +for the man I was training for in 1885. There were +some Fonso bull-pups to be auctioned off, and the boss +wanted a Fonso or two. You remember Fonso, don't you? +He's the old nag, a great one in his times, who got the +blue ribbon only the other day at the age of twenty-three +for being still the finest specimen of a thoroughbred in +Kentucky. The boss wanted a couple of Fonsos and I +went after them. I got him two and myself one. The one +I got was the worst-looking he-scrag that ever wore +hoofs. He was out of a good mare, but he upset all the +calculations of breeding. He was the worst seed in looks +that ever I clapped my eyes on; and I've been fooling +with yearlings for a quarter of a century. He was an +angular swayback, leggy, low-spirited, thick-headed, and +as fast as a caterpillar. Yet I bought him. I didn't expect +ever to make anything out of him, but I was pretty +flush then, and I didn't want to see a Fonso pulling a dray +if there was a chance in a thousand of making anything +out of him. That colt was a joke. The whole crowd gave +him the hoot when he was led into the auction ring, and I +couldn't hold down a grin myself when I sized up the poor +mutt of a camel, the worst libel on a great sire that ever +crawled into an auction ring for a bid. The whole gang +jeered me when I offered $100 for the skate. I didn't +blame 'em. But I led the colt out, put him in a stall, and +then went back to the sale. I got two high-grade Fonsos +for my boss, and they won themselves out for him twenty +times over in the next three years. But they don't figure +in this story.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I went at my freak Fonso right away to see if anything +could be done with him. I devoted more time to that +one than I did to any of my two-year-olds or three-year-olds +in training, hoping that he might have something up +his sleeve and that it could be dug out of him with careful +handling. It was no go. I couldn't get him to do a quarter +in better than 35 seconds. Bat or steel had no effect on +him. He had a hide like a rhinoceros, and he made the +exercise boys weary. Here was a colt born a Fonso, out +of a mare that had been of stake class when in training, +that was no better than a truck-horse, and at the end of +two weeks I gave him up. A circus came along to Lexington, +where I had my string, and with the circus, in +charge of the performing horses, was an old trainer friend +of mine from the St. Louis track who had been chased +into the show business by a long run of hard luck. I took +him out to look over my bunch, and when he came to the +Fonso colt he laughed.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Where did you get that world-beater?' he asked me.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Oh, that's a Fonso colt that I picked up down the line +at a sale a while back,' I told him.</p> +<p class="pnext">"He didn't exactly call me a liar, but he looked as if he +wanted to. Then I told him all about the colt. Like most +trainers, he had the blood and breeding bug pretty bad +under his bonnet, and he tried to throw it into me that I +wasn't giving the colt a fair shake. Told me a lot of stuff +that I already knew about some great racehorses that +couldn't get out of their own way as yearlings, and tried +to convince me that this Fonso thing of mine was liable +to fool me up a whole lot as a two-year-old.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well, he doesn't get oats at my expense until he's +ready to race,' said I. 'If you think his chances at next +year's stakes are so devilish big, he's yours for a quarter +of a hundred.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I've got you,' said my friend with the show. 'I'll +take him along, anyhow. It's worth that much to a man +to be able to say to himself as he smokes his pipe after +his work's done that he's got a Fonso colt of his own. And +I'll bet you an even $100 that I get one race out of that +swayback, anyhow, before he's two years older.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"I didn't take him. I was disgusted with my hundred +dollars' worth of Fonso, and I was glad to get the $25 +that my friend in the show business gave me for him. He +took the mutt away with the show, and I forgot all about +that sentimental purchase of mine for a couple of years.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I hadn't any killing luck during those two years. In +fact, the game went against me pretty strong. Most of the +string that I had in training went wrong or showed themselves +platers, and when the boss decided to quit racing I +was up against it completely. I had two or three platers +of my own that made their oats money and a little more, +and these I raced on the St. Louis track, pulling down a +purse once in a while, and getting second money often +enough to keep me in coffee and sinkers. When the St. +Louis game closed down at the end of September, a number +of us that had small strings struck out for the bush-meetings +in nearby States. I shipped my three to a metropolis +on the banks of the Missouri River where a State +fair was about to be held and where $200 purses were offered +for running races. I figured my three lobsters to be +as good as any for the bush-meetings, and I calculated on +getting one or two of the purses at this State Fair.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I got into the town—they call it a city out there—with +my horses three days before the State Fair was to +begin. On the day that I got there a circus that had been +exhibiting in the town for two days wound up its season +and started East for its winter quarters. I saw the +boarded-up wagons passing through the streets on their +way to the freight depot. I was watching the dead procession +when my circus friend, the man on whom I had +worked off my no-account Fonso colt, picked me out of +the crowd and came up to me. The circus moving out +was the one he had been attached to when last I saw him +and sold him the colt.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Hello,' said I, 'how many stakes have you pulled +down with that one up to date?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"He dug his hands into his pockets and grinned but +made no reply.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Have you still got that colt?' I asked him.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Yep,' said he.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Going to take him along with you to the show's winter +headquarters?' I inquired.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Sh-sh-sh!' said he. 'I'm not going along with the +show. I quit 'em here. Season's over. I've got some business +here next week, anyhow. I'm going to race that +Fonso on the Uncle Tom circuit, beginning with the State +Fair here.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Of course, I couldn't do anything else but prod him, +and I did.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Fact,' said he, seriously. 'Got him entered in the +first race on the card—mile.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I've got one in that myself,' I told him. 'Shall we +fix it up between us?' I added, just for fun.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'You might do worse, at that,' said he, sizing me up +out of the tail of his eye. 'I'm going to win in a walk.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Then I hooted him a good deal more, of course. He +let me get through, and he then took me off into a corner +and told me some things.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'That plug like to have broken my heart ever since I +got him,' he said. 'I've had him in four or five times already +at the bush meetings, but he was never one, two, +three, until the last time, when he took it into his head to +run when they got into the stretch and was only beaten +a nose by a pretty fair bush plug. This was two months +ago. The trouble with this Fonso colt you sawed off +on me is that he's a sulker. He's got the speed in his +crazy-shaped bones, but he won't let it out. Well, between +you and me—and I put you next because I know you +want a dollar or so as bad as I do—I'm confident that +with a douse out of a pail and a bit of a punch with a +needle just before post time, he can beat anything out this +way. He's out at the Fair grounds now, and I worked +him a mile in .48 this morning. He roars like a blast +furnace, but his wind is all right, nevertheless. He's still +as ugly as ever, if not uglier. I put you next, because it +might be a good thing for you to scratch your nag out of +that first race and cotton to your cast-off. There'll be a +big price on account of his wheezing and his ragged +looks.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'How did you enter him?' I asked. 'As a Fonso?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Not on your natural,' said he. 'Any old thing's +eligible, and I simply told 'em I didn't know the mutt's +breeding, that I had him along with me in the show, and +just had an idea he might run a little.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, son, the winter was beginning to loom up, and +I wasn't ulstered and swaddled out for it. I went out to +the Fair grounds with my friend and looked over the +Fonso freak. My friend called him Star Boarder, because +he'd been eating circus oats and hay for two years without +ever doing a lick of work to pay for his fodder. The +colt had, of course, filled out and lengthened, but he was +still as homely a beast ever I clapped an eye on. We +had him led out on the six-furlong track, and an exercise +boy who weighed about 145 pounds took him over the +course at top speed. The nag did it in 1.21, and the +performance tickled me. The colt had a crazy, jerky, uneven +stride, and seemed to go sideways, but he certainly +got over the ground lively with that weight up. I saw +the chance, and I needed the coin.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Can he keep that gait up for the mile?' I asked his +owner.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'He wants four miles,' he replied. 'His roaring is +a bluff.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Count me in, then,' said I. 'He'll walk in that +race. I'll scratch mine out.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"We went along the line and looked over the other +horses, especially the twelve that were entered for that +first race, and, although there were some good-lookers in +the bunch, they had been campaigned heavily for months, +and were a jaded lot. I scratched my pretty fair horse +out of that first race. Then I sold the poorest nag of my +three platers to a banker in town for a stylish saddle +horse. Got $400 for him. I wanted the money for betting +purposes.</p> +<p class="pnext">"There was a big crowd out at the Fair grounds on +the day the racing began. Four books were on, all of +them run by representatives of big gambling houses in +town. My friend had the Fonso colt taken out of his +stall and slowly trotted around the track about three-quarters +of an hour before the first race, that in which +the horse was entered. The gathering crowd in the +stand laughed over the horse's awkward, climbing gait +and clumsy appearance. That's what we wanted 'em to +do. We wanted the price, or the horse would have been +kept in his stall.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Only seven of the field originally entered for the race +went to the post. Now, I didn't have anything to do +with conditioning Star Boarder, and I never belonged to +the syringe gang, anyhow; I kept strictly away from the +paddock and the barns before the race, because I didn't +want to see anything. But the way that Fonso colt, with +all his clumsiness, held his head up and pranced around +as he was going to the post, with a pretty fair boy that +I brought along with me from St. Louis on his back, by +the way, was certainly great. Dope makes a horse about +as perky as three drinks of whisky makes a man who's +been off the booze for a long while. The trouble is that the +dope doesn't last so long in a horse as it does in a man, +and I was pretty anxious for a prompt start, so that the +dope in this homely cast-off of mine wouldn't die out.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The betting on Star Boarder opened at 15, 6, and 3. +There was an even-money favorite, a horse that had pulled +down a number of mile purses at St. Louis, a 2 to 1 +shot, and the others slid up to the nag my friend and I +wanted to have win; Star Boarder being the rank +outsider at 15 to 1. I put my $400 down on him with the +four booked all three ways, $200 to win, $100 for the +place, and $100 to show. In the morning my friend +handed me $200 of his savings from the circus business +to bet. I played his coin $100 to win and $100 a place. +I had hardly got the money down before I heard a big +whoop of laughter from the stand, and I rushed out to see +what was the matter. Star Boarder was running away. +There had been a false break, and the fool plug had kept +right on going. He had a mouth like forged steel, and the +boy couldn't do anything with him. I stood and damned +Fonso and all his tribe to the last generation, and I could +see my friend in the paddock shaking his fist and grinding +his teeth.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Oh, well,' said I to myself, 'it's all off, and it serves +you bully good and right for not racing your own plugs +and letting these con and dope grafts go to the devil.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"The horse went the full length of the course before +he was pulled up, and then he was roaring and wheezing +like a sea-lion. The crowd laughed, and the books gave +the post-time bettors all the 60 to 1 against Star Boarder +that they wanted—which, of course, was none.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I went back to the paddock then, while the horses +were gyrating at the post, and found the brute's owner. +I laid him open.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'To blazes with casting up!' he said. 'Isn't the +last of my cush on the skate, too?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"I felt like ten cents' worth of dog's meat when I +slunk back to the stand to see 'em get off. After fifteen +minutes' delay at the post—the starter was a farmer—and +Star Boarder blowing like a sand-blast and the foam +standing all over him from that little six-furlong sprint, +away they went in a line, Star Boarder in the lead! Star +Boarder at the quarter by a length! Star Boarder at the +half by a length! Star Boarder at the three-quarters by +two lengths! Star Boarder in the stretch by three lengths! +And if that dog-goned, knock-kneed, bone-spavined, no-account +maiden Fonso colt didn't just buck-jump under +the wire by six clear lengths of open daylight, you can feed +me hay and carrots until the next spring meeting and I'll +only say thank you kindly, sir!</p> +<p class="pnext">"I can't, as I say, make out whether that was a case of +ringing or not. Anyhow, it was up to the State fair people +to make the holler if any was coming, wasn't it? They +didn't. The Rube bookmakers did, but they weren't sustained, +and they had to dive into their satchels. Star +Boarder is over in Anne Arundel County, Maryland, to-day, +pulling an old lady around in a phaeton, and still +holding down the distinction of being the homeliest son of +one of the handsomest sires in the history of the American +stud."</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="hard-luck-wail-of-an-old-time-trainer"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id7">HARD-LUCK WAIL OF AN OLD-TIME TRAINER.</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">He Salts a 100 to 1 Shot Away for a Good Thing and Is Steered Off.</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">"Washington, as I remember it, was a pretty nice +old jogger of a town," said an old-time trainer who got +in at Bennings, the race-track near Washington, a few +days ago with a well-known string of horses in preparation +for the spring meeting there. "I'd like to have a +look at it again by daylight. Got in this time after dark +and came right out here before sunrise. First time +I'd hit Washington for five years—since the fall meeting +at St. Asaph in 1894. I surely would like to have +another look around Washington. But I guess I'll have +to pass it up. I'm not hunting for bother nowadays."</p> +<p class="pnext">The paddock in which he stood is only a few minutes' +run by train from Washington. It seemed odd, therefore, +that he did not step on a train and run over to Washington, +since, as he said, he hankered for another sight +of it. He was asked about this:</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well," he replied, "I'm waiting for five fellows that I +used to know over in Washington to die. When they've all +cashed in, maybe I'll have a chance to look around Washington +again. But I understand that they're all alive +and on edge now, and I don't exactly feel like running +into them. I know that I'd never be able to square myself +for a thing that happened down at St. Asaph during +that fall meeting in 1894, so what's the use of stacking +up against the bunch and wasting wind?</p> +<p class="pnext">"I had a small string of dead ones at that St. Asaph +meeting. I didn't get oats money out of them. That +year was the frost of my life, anyhow. I started +in around the New York tracks in the spring with +a bundle of three thousand or so that I had hauled +down by backing 'em out on the coast during the winter +meeting, and I began to melt before the leaves commenced +to show up on the trees. There was nothing doing for me. +I couldn't get down right. Nearly a dozen good things +that pals of mine with strings had got into the pink +of it to send over the plate at long prices wound up +among the also rans and the crimp those things took in +my wad was something ridiculous. I only handled a few +horses during the summer meetings that year on the +metropolitan tracks. They were all crabs and did no +good. So I had to plug along by shying a ten or twenty +into the ring when I heard of something that looked nice. +I couldn't even make this clubbing game go through. +The books got two out of three of my slips of the green, +and I got to wondering how it would feel to drive a +truck. They certainly had me down that year.</p> +<p class="pnext">"When the fall meeting at Morris Park wound up +I had $200 and a headache. I was figuring on how I +could take this down to the winter meetings in the South +and run it up to something worth while, when the owner +of the bunch of dead ones I spoke of came along and +asked me to take 'em down to St. Asaph and try to get +a race or two out of them. I knew they were lobsters, +all of these horses, and I was ugly enough to tell the +owner that when I wanted a job handling cattle I'd go +down to West street and get one, with a sea voyage to +Glasgow or London thrown in. There wasn't a horse in +the lot that could beat my old aunt in Ireland over the plate +for money or marbles; but I decided to take them down +to St. Asaph anyhow, just for the sake of keeping on the +inside of the game and finding out if there was anything +going on that would enable me to run that small shoestring +of mine into a tannery. So I took them down to +that Virginia clay course across the Potomac and fixed +them up the best I knew how. They wouldn't do. St. +Asaph was getting some good horses straight from the +Eastern tracks then and my platers were never in the +hunt—never one, two, six, in fact. Worse than that, the +books began taking my little $2 and $5 bets away from +me right from the getaway, and I could see a winter +ahead in New York with all the trimmings cut out. I +met a dozen or so of pretty square chaps in Washington, +business men that liked to see 'em run and that used +to ask me occasionally what I thought. I landed most +of them right on several dead good things without ever +getting a dollar on myself from want of nerve, my pile +was so low, and they made good, all right, when these +things went through. But I was bunking up with such +a hoodoo that I sloughed off even this rake-off, and when +the thing happened that I am going to tell you about +I only had $70 left out of the cozy cush I had started in +the season with.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Now, I've been at this game, on both sides of the +fence, for more than twenty years, and, if any man is, +I'm dead next to the fact that the horse game is hard +and craggy. I never yet was guilty of looking upon the +running game as something easy. Yet I'm bound to admit +that I often get what you can call, if you want to, a +hunch on a horse. Something that a plug does in his +running, even if he doesn't get near the money, takes +my eye, and from thinking about it I get a hunch on +him. I don't get a hunch like this every day, or every +week or month, for that matter, but I've noticed that +these hunches of mine have gone through nine times +out of ten during the past twenty years or so. Well, +there was a horse called Jodan that had run in two or +three six-furlong sprints at Morris Park that fall, and +I had liked his work. He was out of the money in both +of those races, but I liked the way he went at his work. +That horse Jodan looked to me like he had it in him. +These two Morris Park races had been captured, one, +two, three by good ones, and I could see when I had a +chance to look Jodan over in his stall that he was short +of work. The string to which the horse belonged had +a poor trainer, and I knew that a good trainer could get +some six furlong races out of Jodan. I had a hunch on +Jodan, and I fixed it in my head that if ever the horse +got into the hands of a good trainer and was brought +around right for the six-furlong distance, he'd get a +piece of my money, no matter what company he was up +against.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, along toward the close of the St. Asaph meeting +Jodan turned up at the track with another trainer +handling him—a man who had as good a knack of conditioning +horses as ever I met up with, and an old chum +of mine. I rubbed up with him before he had been on +the track fifteen minutes, and asked him what he was +going to do with Jodan.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I am going to try him out in the first three-quarter +event I can squeeze him into,' he told me, 'and I wouldn't +be surprised to see him get a piece of it. His right fore-leg +is a bit bum, but if it holds together I don't see +why the fellows I know shouldn't get a bite off a real +good thing in Jodan. He's got a turn of speed, and I've +got him dead right. The only thing that worries me is +that swollen knee, and I'm doing my best at patching +that up.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"I told him of the hunch I'd had at Morris Park on +Jodan, and he told me to stay with it, and he'd attend +to his end of it to help me out.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'There'll be all kinds of a price on him when I send +him to the pump,' he said, 'and I'll let you know in time +just how he is.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, that hunch just grew and grew on me. The +Washington chaps that I had met and pushed along with +the good things that I didn't have the sap to play myself +heard from me on the Jodan question. I told them +that I had him up my sleeve and to stand by. They had +never heard of the horse and they almost side-stepped +when I told 'em he was as good as any of them over a +three-quarter route—that he had never been got right. +There were a lot of six-furlongers down at St. Asaph +then that could negotiate the distance in .15 flat, and +they couldn't see where a horse that they had never heard +of had a look-in with that kind. I held my ground, however, +and they said that when it was to come off they'd +throw a little bit of a bet at the bird, just because I +said so.</p> +<p class="pnext">"A couple of days later Jodan's name showed up +among the entries for a six-furlong sprint, and I had another +chaw with his trainer.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'He's good,' he told me. 'Stay with your hunch. +He ought to do.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"The race was to be run on a Saturday. I looked up +my Washington friends and told them confidently what +Jodan was going to do with a bunch of the best three-quarter +runners in training. Four or five of them couldn't +help but give me the hoot on the proposition, and they +said they weren't going over to the track, anyhow—too +busy closing up the week's business, and so on. They +couldn't see where Jodan figured with the lot he was to +meet. I went around to the rest of these Washington +fellows on the Friday evening before the race and told +them again about Jodan. They, too, were all going to +be too busy with the Saturday wind-up of business to +take in the races that day, but five of them gave me $10 +each to put on Jodan for them. None of them had +any confidence in the thing, though.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The Jodan race was the first on the card. There +were fourteen entries, and not a horse was scratched. +The track was deep in dust, and I knew then Jodan liked +that sort of going. It looked like a cinch. I knew that +the bookies would be dead to Jodan, but I didn't think +they'd take the liberties they did with him. The favorite +opened up at 2 to 1, and he was played down to 6 to 5 +in no time. Then there were four or five shots in it ranging +from 3 to 1 to 15 to 1, when the rank outsiders were +written in all the way up to 150 to 1. Jodan, my mutt, +stowed away for a good thing, opened up at 100 to 1 +and stuck there. I went out to the stable where Jodan +was quartered to find his trainer, but I couldn't dig +him up. He was mixed up with the bunch in the paddock +or in the stand. So I decided that it wasn't necessary +for me to see him, anyhow, before putting my +money on Jodan. I had seen him the night before, when +he whispered to me that Jodan was gorgeous, and that +he was going to play him to win, no matter if the books +laid 1000 to 1 against the horse.</p> +<p class="pnext">"So I traipsed around to the ring to put down my +money and that of my friends on Jodan. As I say, +Jodan's price all over the ring was 100 to 1, and no +takers. I had the five tens the Washington chaps had +given me and the last fifty spot I had on earth in my +mitt, ready to shoot around and plant it in $10 gobs on +Jodan before the price could be rubbed, thus standing +to win $5000 for myself and $5000 for the Washington +fellows, with my share out of their winnings for putting +them next. I was the very next man in line to plant my +first ten with one of the books, when I felt a hard pinch +on my right arm, and I wheeled around suddenly to +swat the duck that had given it to me. It was my friend, +the trainer of Jodan. He nodded me over to the little vacant +space.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'You were just going to take some Jodan, weren't +you?' he asked me.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'That's what,' said I. 'He'll turn the trick, won't +he?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'No,' he replied shortly. 'I've been trying to find +you for the last hour to tell you. The mutt's got another +twist during the night somehow or another, and now +it's about twice its right size. Stay off. He can't do +it. He's not limping much, but I can't see how he'll go +a quarter with such a leg. It'll be a miracle if that hard-luck +skate finishes at all.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"This was a hard fall for me, I'm telling you that. I +had been building on it for one of my cinch hunch things, +and to hear that it had gone rank took the nerve out of +me. Of course, in a dismal kind of way, I was glad my +friend the trainer had put me next to the state of things +in time to keep me off the dead one for my whole fifty +and the fifty of my friends in Washington, but that +wasn't much salve for the hurt I got when he told me +that Jodan couldn't possibly do it. With Jodan out of it +I felt certain that the 6 to 5 favorite would come in all +alone, and so I put the whole bundle down that way +$120 to $100. It made me glum to think of the difference +between that and $10,000 to $100.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Then I went up to the stand to see the lot file past +on their way to the post. My horse, the favorite, was +just a-prancing and looked to me like a 1 to 10 thing +with Jodan out. But my trainer chum had put me on +right. Jodan's knee was as big as your hat, and he had +his limp along with him. One of the stewards noticed +this and made a bit of talk about not allowing Jodan to +race, but when he was told that Jodan always went to +the post with a bum knee, even after his warming up, +he closed up and Jodan went around to the pump with +his field.</p> +<p class="pnext">"They got off the first break. The people in the stand +were down on the favorite almost to a man, and the yelp +they let out when he shot to the lead from the first jump +was a heap noisy. My poor old Jodan plug was almost +left at the post, but his boy got him going all right, and +I was rather surprised to see him quickly join the rear +bunch. By this time, at the half, the favorite was just +buck-jumping five lengths out in front of the first division. +Then the hind ones began to move up, and I stood +by to see Jodan get shuffled out of it. But he didn't +shuffle. He passed right by the rear gang and nearing +the three-quarters he was at the saddle-girths of the front +division and going like a cup defender in half a gale.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'You'll chuck that in a minute, my boy,' I thought, +with my mind on Jodan. 'Three-legged races look all +right on paper, but they don't go through.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"I lost the colors when they turned into the stretch, +but I saw that the favorite was still a good two lengths +in front. The track was so deep in dust that I couldn't +make out the others until they were well into the stretch +for the lope to the wire. Then when they were all settled +down to their barrels in the flying yellow dust, I saw +one of the front divisionites behind the leader shoot out +around on the outside and bend down to it. Say, I closed +my lamps down tight. That horse coming on the outside +like a black devil, with his bit almost crunched into +flinders, was Jodan. I opened up my eyes when they were +about sixty yards from the wire. In the middle of the +whirlwind of dust I saw the favorite faltering, with +Jodan a neck away and going like as if his distance was +only a quarter of a mile and he a-covering it there in the +stretch. Then I pulled my glasses away from my head, +sat down, shut my eyes again and shook hands with death +for a few seconds while the Indians all around me were +howling 'Jodan!' 'Jodan!'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Jodan wins!' they yelled when the horses got under +the wire, and I opened up my eyes just in time to see +Jodan with open daylight between him and the favorite. +That was a three-legged miracle, all right. I was in a +daze, but I had a picture in my head of five fellows in +Washington that had treated me right waiting for the +race train to get in so that I could hand them each a +thousand. I couldn't stand for that, and I had too many +different kinds of heartbreak warping me out under my +vest to feel like trying to explain the thing to them. +So I walked over to Alexandria and caught the afternoon +train for Richmond, after leaving my bum string in +the hands of another trainer. From Richmond I went +on down to New Orleans, where I had some luck—never +enough luck, though, to square the game up with me +for that win of Jodan's, which made me feel old and +tired for a long time afterward.</p> +<p class="pnext">"If I outlive those five Washington fellows, or they +take it into their lids to go to the Klondike together, maybe +I'll have another look around under the shadow of that +big dome yonder. But I don't want to meet them. Explaining's +too hard work, and the circumstances of that +St. Asaph happening, which occurred as I've spieled it, +were 'agin' me!"</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="story-of-an-almost-combination"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id8">STORY OF AN "ALMOST" COMBINATION.</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">It Paid $2,000 to $2, and Looked Like a Winner Until the Last Jump, But——</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">There was a period of prolonged, nerve-racking excitement +one afternoon last week in a demure and retiring +Harlem poolroom that doesn't draw any color line. A +colored sport was threatening to tear the place loose from +its foundations and to fire a volley over the ruins—in a +purely figurative sense, that is to say. Literally he didn't +commit any breach of the peace at all. But he had a combination +ticket in his clothes for a couple of hours that +practically made all the rest of the people in the place forget +what they were there for. He was as black as that +overworked one-spot of spades. He was known to his +envied intimates only as Mose, and the very large checked +suit of plaid that he wore had a certain cake-walk suggestiveness, +as did his huge red necktie, his patent leathers +with blue polka-dotted uppers, and his three large yellow +diamonds, two of them on his fingers and the other +screwed in the middle of his shirt bosom with crimson +horizontal bars. He was a "spote" all right.</p> +<p class="pnext">He entered the poolroom alone, looked up at the board, +and then dug a bit of paper, obviously a telegram, out of +his Oxford cloth Newmarket overcoat. A man who was +rude enough to look over his shoulders saw that the telegram +was a night message and that it bore the New Orleans +date. It contained the names of five horses, with the +initials of the sender.</p> +<p class="pnext">"He's a po'tuh on uh Pullman," vouchsafed the sport +to the privileged character who had looked over his shoulder +at the despatch. "An' he's uh babe, yo' heah me! He +knows 'em lak he knows uh blackin' brush. Ah's uh +gwine tuh mek uh combinashun on de hull five. De ticket +'ll win in uh walk."</p> +<p class="pnext">After sizing up the house betting on the New Orleans +races for a few minutes, he walked up to the counter +where the combination tickets exuded from the lightning +calculator. Just at that moment there was nothing doing +at the combination counter. The sport produced his telegram, +cleared his throat, and began.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Ah's got de hull five babies," he said with a grin to the +ticket writer. "An' ah's uh gwine tuh tek 'em all tuh win. +Doan' want none o' 'em fo' place or show. Dey's all got +tuh come in all alone."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Shoot 'em out," said the ticket writer.</p> +<p class="pnext">The sport named the five horses that he knew were +going to win the New Orleans races. They were, in the +order of the races, Mint Sauce, Russell R., Deyo, Benneville +and Donna Rita.</p> +<p class="pnext">The ticket writer executed his bit of lightning head +work, with frequent glances at the board to get the prices +on the runners, and then he looked up at the sport with a +grin.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Huntin' for a hog killin', ain't you?" he asked. +"Goin' to put us out o' business? It figures a thousand to +one. How much do you want on it?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Two dolluhs," replied the sport and he passed up the +money. The ticket writer pencilled the names of the horses +down on the ticket, placed the figures "$2,000 to $2" at +the bottom of it, and handed the bit of pasteboard to the +sport with the remark:</p> +<p class="pnext">"You're a good thing. Come again."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Yo' all kin do yo' hollern' w'en de hosses run," was +the sport's good-natured reply, and then he went to the +extreme outer row of seats in the pool room and sat down +to wait for $2,000 to accrue to him on an investment of +$2.</p> +<p class="pnext">Along toward 3 o'clock the betting came in on the first +race at New Orleans. The horse Mint Sauce that the +sport had in his combination ticket was the odds-on favorite, +although he had been at a good price in the house +betting. The queer crowd of players surged up to the +counters to put their money down on things they liked, +that figured all right in the dope books; but the sport kept +his seat. His speculation for the day was over. He was +simply waiting for his $2 to grow to $2,002.</p> +<p class="pnext">Then they were off at New Orleans, as the telegrapher +announced with a bored air, electrifying the crowd into +silence. It was a six-furlong race, and there was nothing +to it but Mint Sauce all the way. At the three-quarters, +when the telegrapher announced that Mint Sauce was +third and just galloping, the sport leaned back in his seat +with an it's-all-over expression, snapped his fingers a +couple of times for luck, and said:</p> +<p class="pnext">"It's uh cake-walk fo' dat baby. Ah'm on right so far."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Mint Sauce wins by two lengths," announced the operator, +and the announcement was received with silence. +Poolroom crowds don't play favorites as a rule.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Mah nex' is this heah Russell R.," said the sport, +gazing at his ticket again, "an' Russell R. he's dun got +tuh win. Ah feels uh leetle squeenchy uhbout he all, but +Russell R. he'll buck-jump in."</p> +<p class="pnext">The betting came in on the race a few moments later, +and Russell R. was at a long price. Several horses in the +race were at much shorter prices. The sport didn't look +worried a little bit over this.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Russell R. he's dun got tuh win," he said, and that +was all there was about it.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Off at New Orleans," announced the weary looking +operator again, and then he began to call off the way the +race was being run. It looked bad for the sport's ticket +until the telegrapher had carried the nags along to the +three-quarter post and then Russell R., who hadn't been +anywhere, got his first call, joining the bunch as third at +that stage of the journey.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Sadie Burnham in the stretch by a length!" announced +the telegrapher. "Lomond second by a length, +Russell R. third," and then the sport began to root for +his horse. He swayed back and forth in his wicker rocking +chair, moaning, "Come, yo' Russell hoss! Yo' heah +me uh-talkin', hoss—come, yo' Russell—or yo' doan' git +no oats—ketch him, yo' baby, an' yo' pa'll treat yo' +right"——</p> +<p class="pnext">"Russell R. wins, by a head!" announced the telegrapher.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Oh, yo' wahm thing, yo' Russell!" suppressedly exclaimed +the sport, his finger-snapping suddenly stopping +and an upturned crescent grin spreading over the whole +area of his chocolate countenance.</p> +<p class="pnext">It seemed that some of the less important sports must +have been "riding" Russell R. too, for their exultant +"Uh-huhs!" rang around the room. The colored sport +dearly loves a long shot.</p> +<p class="pnext">"De nex' on mah piece o' pas'e-boa'd," said the sport, +ransacking through his pockets again for his ticket, "is +dain'jus. Ah doan' lak dis heah hoss Deyo, but Ah ain't +uh-playin' whut Ah laks, but whut's dun sent tuh me. So +Deyo she's dun got tuh win, too."</p> +<p class="pnext">It was after 4 o'clock by this time, and the poolroom +was filling up with young fellows turned loose from the +down-town offices. Many of these late arrivals had +straight tips in the form of telegrams on the third race at +New Orleans and they almost overwhelmed the ticket +writers. When the betting came in on that race Deyo was +at a long price, much longer than the house betting had +quoted the nag, and the sport looked a bit anxious over +this. His worried look disappeared, however, when the +second line of betting came in, showing that Deyo was +being backed down some on the New Orleans track.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Dey's sumthin' uh-doin' on that mule," he said, and +the telegrapher began to call off the race. It was something +easy for Deyo, who beat the favorite by three +lengths. The sport didn't have to snap his fingers or sway +in his chair at all. Deyo was in front all the way. Three-fifths +of the $2,000 to $2 ticket was won.</p> +<p class="pnext">By this time the sport was the cynosure of a good many +pairs of eyes. The possibilities of the ticket he had in his +pocket were whispered about, and a number of the real +things in the sport line edged over and asked to have a +look at the ticket.</p> +<p class="pnext">"It's a alimpey-boolera," they said, and they rubbed the +back of it for luck. Then a lot of them went up to the +combination desk and got combination tickets for the remaining +two horses that appeared on the colored sport's +ticket. By the time the betting came in on the fourth race +it was known all over the room that the sport had a $2,000 +to $2 ticket with three of the horses already over the plate. +The sport enjoyed it all with becoming modesty.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Dis heah hoss, Benneville, will now step out an' run +seben fuhlongs fo' me," he said, referring to his ticket +again. "Ah doan' know mahse'f jes' how good dis heah +Benneville is jes' now, but dis is his day tuh win by uh +block."</p> +<p class="pnext">Benneville came in an odds-on favorite, and won by +three open lengths. The sport again was relieved of the +necessity of rooting.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Ah'n dun rode dat one mahse'f," he said grinning, +and he found himself in the middle of a crowd of sports +of his own color.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Look uh-heah, nigguh, doan' yo' all remembuh me?" +a lot of them inquired of him as they crowded around him.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Remembuh nothin'," said he impartially. "Ah doan' +mek it mah bizness tuh remembuh nobody."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Hey, what does your ticket call for in the next?" was +a question that fifty men threw at him as he sat in state +in his wicker rocker.</p> +<p class="pnext">"De nex' skate on de list," he replied, spelling out the +letters on his ticket, which was being rubbed a good deal +for luck by all hands within rubbing distance, "is de +maiuh Donna Rita. Ah wouldn't give $2 fo' Donna Rita +mahse'f, de way she's bin un-runnin', but Donna Rita's +dun got tuh walk in all by huhse'f dis time," whereupon +he returned the ticket to his pocket as if it already represented +$2,002.</p> +<p class="pnext">The sport had got down Donna Rita into his combination +at a long price in the house betting. When the first +line of betting came in from New Orleans, however, +Donna Rita was seen to be the favorite for the race, with +a big field to beat.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Donna Rita's lak gettin' money in uh lettuh," said the +sport, and every man in the room that heard these words +of wisdom from the lips of the man with the magical combination +ticket in his pocket, played Donna Rita to win. +So here was the sport, enthroned like any monarch of Dahomey, +with the crowd surging around him. One of the +white sports, waving a roll as big as his fist, elbowed his +way through the crowd surrounding the colored sport +and flatly offered him $500 for his ticket, after looking at +it and seeing that Donna Rita, much the best horse in the +next race, had her name inscribed there. It was a temptation, +but the sport was game, and stood pat.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Dis heah ticket ain't fo' sale," he said. "De two +thousan's good enough fo' this coon."</p> +<p class="pnext">Another man offered him $800 for his $2 ticket. The +offer was declined. There wasn't a man in the crowd that +wasn't rooting for the sport's ticket to wind up all right, +and to make their rooting more effective they played +Donna Rita to win the last race almost to a man. The +less important sports were keeping close to their brother +in hue. They wanted to be in at the finish—perhaps to +help the sport to celebrate. At post time there was hardly +a man at the betting counters. They were all hovering +near the sport for luck.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Off at New Orleans!" shouted the telegrapher, who +knew about the sport's ticket by this time, and there was +a note of unusual excitement in his voice as he called off +the race. "Donna Rita in the lead!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Oh, yo' babe, Donna!" shouted all the "spotes" in +unison, and "stay right theah, yo' nigguh!" shouted the +one particular sport.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Donna Rita at the quarter by five lengths!" called out +the telegrapher, and the poolroom might have been taken +for an Emancipation Day festival. "Donna Rita at the +half by five lengths!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Ef yo' lubs yo' man, come uhlong!" moaned the sport +in ecstasy.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Donna Rita at the three-quarters by three lengths, +Kisme second, Virgie O. third," droaned the operator. +"Donna Rita in the stretch by a head!"</p> +<p class="pnext">The sport rocked to and fro and groaned.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Virgie O. wins by a nose!" announced the telegrapher.</p> +<p class="pnext">That settled the combination. The sport's followers fell +away from him like autumn leaves from wind-tortured +trees.</p> +<p class="pnext">"They ain't nothin' in this horse-racin' game, is they?" +the frequenters of the poolroom said to one another as +they slouched out, and the grating tones of the cashiers +counting bills soon echoed through the deserted room.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="red-donnelly-s-streak-of-luck"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id9">"RED" DONNELLY'S STREAK OF LUCK.</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">He "Runs a Shoestring into a Tannery," and Then Gets the Cold Shoulder from the Lady Fortune.</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">A party of turfmen in Washington for the Benning +meeting were talking the other evening of the remarkable +streak of luck which has enabled Billy Barrick to run a +borrowed shoestring of $200 up to an amount which is +now said to approximate $100,000 in the last six weeks.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Barrick's double-ended luck, both at faro bank and +horses," said one of the bookmakers in the party, "is a +whole lot out of the common. Luck is a full-bred sort of +an affair, and it does not often run along hybrid lines. +What I mean to say is that the man who has a huge run +of luck at one game almost invariably falls into the doldrums +and goes all to pieces when he switches to another +game. The luckiest men I ever knew on the turf, for example, +were the unluckiest card players, and most of them +stubbornly spent a good many thousands of their pony +winnings before they found this out. Barrick seems to +be an exception. He has got into the current, and he could +probably get away with the money at fan-tan or Cingalese +pool while he's in his present shape. I'm a bit afraid +of him just now myself, and when I see his commissioners +bearing down on my book I'm sorely tempted to rub the +whole slate until I get a chance to rubberneck and find +out what they're after. If I were dealing faro bank, so +weird has his luck at tiger-bucking been lately, too, that +I believe I'd make it a thirty-cent limit when I saw him +coming. But he's an exception, as I say. It's the man who +sticks to the one game that drives the swaggerest dog-cart +and wears the whitest gig-lamps in the long run.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I remember a chap out in St. Louis who ran a shoestring +of five cents up to pretty close to six figures in the +summer of 1895. He bucked more games in doing it, too, +than Barrick has thus far, but he couldn't go a route, and +they ate him up when the whisky got into his head in +such quantities that he saw treble without having a focus +on anything. His name was Red Donnelly, and he had +charge of the bookmakers' paraphernalia in the betting +ring of the St. Louis fair grounds when the Lady Fortune +beamed upon that nickel of his and invited him to bask for +a time in her domain. He was a loose-jointed spraddle-shaped +sort of a young chap of 25 or so who had been +hanging around the St. Louis tracks from his early boyhood. +He learned so much about the horses that he could +never win anything on them when he played in the ten-cent +books made by the railbirds. He handicapped them +down to the sixteenth of a pound, and the horse that he +put his dime on consequently got beaten, as a rule, by a +tongue. He had been holding down the job of a dog-robber +for the bookmakers for two seasons before he struck +his lead on that nickel. He came out to the track one day, +early in June, 1895, with the solitary nickel reposing in the +depths of his trousers' pockets, salted there to pay his fare +back to the city. He got to pulling the five-cent piece out +of his clothes and looking at it longingly by the time the +first race was due. He wanted to get down on a race, but +there were no five-cent books. The bottom sum accepted +by the railbird books was a dime. Red strolled out to +the barns and got to pitching nickels with a pack of idle +stable boys. The luck was with him from the jump, and +when he accumulated a dollar in nickels he exhibited +symptoms of a man suffering from chilblains. His reason +for getting cold feet was that he had a good thing in the +fourth race, and by the time he had acquired the dollar +the betting had begun on the fourth race.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Red hurtled himself into the ring with his dollar and +saw that the price offered against his good thing, the old +nag Hush, was 60 to 1. Donnelly needed a bundle of +cigarettes and a few drinks pretty badly, but he was +game when it came to sticking to his good things, and +he slapped his twenty nickels down on Hush with a bookmaker +he knew. He took good-naturedly the mocking +hoot which the booky gave him for handing in twenty +pieces of that kind of metal, and catapulted himself out +to the rail just as the horses went away from the post. +The race was really something silly for Hush, in the unwieldy +field of nineteen horses. Hush led all the way, and +pranced under the wire first in a big gallop, pulled double. +The boy had Hush up in his lap all the way.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Red had some difficulty in collecting his $61. The +bookmaker knew him well, knew of his taste for rum, and +knew also that few of Red's rare dollars ever found their +way to the humble shack of the man's infirm old Irish +mother.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I believe I'll just pinch this out on you, Red,' said +the booky to him, 'and pass it along to the old lady when +I go in to-night. It won't do you any good.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Come to taw,' replied Red. 'I want to put thirty or +forty cents down on the next race. I got another good +thing in it.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"The bookmaker reluctantly passed Donnelly the $61. +Red carefully folded the dollar bill and tucked it into his +waistcoat pocket. Then he invested the $60, in $10 clips, +with six books, on Dorah Wood, in the next race, at 15 to +1. It was a canter for Dorah Wood, and Red knocked +the bookmakers silly—they all knew him well from his +working around the place—by socking it to six of them +for $150 each. A committee of safety was immediately +formed around Donnelly, but he couldn't be held down. +He tossed a quart of wine under his waist-line, purchased +a package of cigarettes made in Turkey for forty +cents, and looked over his dope-book carefully. Then he +strolled into the ring and bet $900 on Minnie Cee in the +last race. Minnie Cee was at 3 to 1, and it was something +ridiculous for her. She won on the bit, and Red was +$3,660 to the good on that nickel that he had salted away +in his homespuns for the return trip to town.</p> +<p class="pnext">"When Red turned up to collect, Barney Schreiber—he's +a big-hearted Barney—had him, as it were, by the +scruff of the neck. Barney announced to all of us that +he was going to collect for Donnelly, and what Barney +said went with us, for we all knew Red's propensities. +Donnelly put up a weak growl, but he knew 'way down +deep in him that Schreiber could and would take care +of the cash better than he could or would. Barney +pinched $3,500 of the wad, inserted it in a separate compartment +of his wallet, and handed Red $150.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I'll just let you have a little change, Red, said he, +'and if you think you can run that up into a tan-yard, go +ahead. But I'm a-going to handle this for you the right +way. You're not tied enough in your ways to have +such a vast sum on your person all at one and the same +time.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Donnelly didn't demur much. The $150 was a huge +sum itself for him, and he, of course, knew that Schreiber +would do the right thing with the main bunch. As a +matter of fact, Barney deposited the $3500 the next day +to the credit of Donnelly's old mother, and Schreiber +and the old woman were the only people who knew anything +about that end of it for a long time afterward.</p> +<p class="pnext">"We all gibed and roasted Red about the delirium-tremens +finish we foresaw for him, and when he didn't +turn up at the track at all on the following day, necessitating +the turning of his dog-robbing work over to +another man, there was a lot of talk about the tremendous +barrel-house toot Red must have gone on down the +levee way. That's where we were camping out. When +we picked up the papers on turning out the following +morning we found a scare-head story in one of them +relating in great detail and elaborate diction how one Mr. +John S. Donnelly, a gentleman well known on the Western +turf, had swatted Ed McGuckin's faro bank, over in +East St. Louis, to the tune of $16,000, playing steadily +without meals from 7 o'clock on the evening of Monday +until 11 o'clock on Wednesday night, when Ed +turned the box on him and announced that it was all off +for the present. We all shouted 'fake!' when we saw +that, but a couple of us hopped into a cab and crossed +over to McGuckin's place to see if there was anything +in the yarn. Well, there was everything in it. We found +Ed holding his fevered brow and mumbling deep, dark +things about damned vagabonds slipping into his layout +and running shoe tongues up into leather factories. We +expressed our sympathies with Ed, for which we came +perilously near being kicked, and then we went back to +St. Louis to hunt up Red. We went over the barrel-house +route with a fine-tooth comb, but no Donnelly. +Then we decided to drive out to his mother's little old +shack. Our route from the levee out there took us +through the down-town district, and we both saw Red +on the street at once. We drew up alongside the curb, +and called him. He was cold sober, and he had $16,210 +in bills in his inside waistcoat pocket. We asked him +where he was going, and he nodded in the direction of +the swellest tailoring establishment in St. Louis. We +went along with him, and it was one lovely sight to observe +the fabrics Red picked out wherewith to ornament +his long, lithe person. He ordered a dozen suits, and +then we went with him to the haberdasher's. He was +all for green and yellow neckties, pink-striped shirts, +and that sort, and we let him have his way. Then he became +sleepy. We threw it into him pretty hard about that +big bundle of money he had on him, and he finally consented +to come along to a bank with us and deposit +$14,000 of it in his name. We tried to hold out for having +it put in his mother's name, but he wouldn't stand +for that. After leaving the bank Red's eagle eye caught +sight of the shiny things in a jeweler's window, and he +decided then and there that he couldn't go to sleep without +having the third finger of his left hand made conspicuous +by a three-karat blue-white stone, for which he +coughed $500. That left him with about $1500 in his +clothes, and we dragged him then into the cab and drove +out to his mother's little old shanty. The old lady had her +little talk with Barney Schreiber about the $3500 by that +time, and the to-do she made over her 'bye Johnnie' was +worth the ride to see. When we told her about the other +bunch that Red had copped and that we had plunked it +into the bank for him, the quantities of corned beef and +cabbage which she threw into the pot for the dinner +which she wanted us to remain to share with her and her +phenomenal son were amazing.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, Donnelly astonished us all for a couple of +weeks by his extraordinary conduct. He would ride +out to the track in a hack, with a gilt-stamped cigarette +in his face, attend to his job as usual around the betting-ring—that +is, he'd supervise, for he quickly accumulated +a staff of worshiping touts and hangers-on—and then +he'd go up into the grand-stand to exhibit his cake-walk +clothes and look at the races. He didn't put a bet down +on a horse for two weeks. He remained pretty sober +all the time, too. We joshed him about the frigid pedals +he had suddenly got, but he only passed along with the +remark: 'I'm letting 'em run for O'Flaherty. Nothin' +doin'.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"We waited for the crash, but it didn't seem to come +on schedule time. One afternoon he called me aside and +showed me his bank-book. It showed an additional deposit +of $5000, making the total $19,000.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'When did you pick up that new roll?' I asked +him.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Went up against the wheel at Terhune's last night, +and yanked it out in three hours,' he said.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'When did you learn to play roulette?' I asked +him.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Last night,' he replied.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Along toward the end of June Donnelly turned up +at the track one afternoon with a light in his eye. He +went out into the paddock and spent three-quarters of +an hour looking at a horse and by that time the third race +was due. Red came into the ring and spread $1000 +around on Madeira at 10 to 1. It was a maiden two-year-old +race, but Madeira romped in two lengths to the +good. That night Red, still moderately sober and +level-headed, had $29,000 to his credit in the bank. We +began to figure with a new brand of dope on Donnelly's +game and to consider the possibility of his becoming a +real fixture. A lot of owners with bum skates tried to +work them off on Donnelly at big prices, but he only +passed them the cold-storage smirk. This gave us an +additional line of thinks with regard to what we thought +was his increasing shrewdness. Besides, you see, Red +began to be right good to us. He told us all very soberly +one afternoon that he had a good thing, but that +he didn't want to hurt his own ring, so he'd send his +money to the out-of-town poolrooms. The good thing +was David, who won the last race in a walk at 15 to 1, +and Red cleaned up $15,000 on that.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Right at this point, Schreiber and some other people +got at Donnelly and tried to induce him to either invest +a part of his money—he had almost $50,000 then—in a +string of useful horses, to be put into the hands of a competent +trainer—or to have the whole bundle properly invested +in some sort of annuity, tie-up scheme whereby, +when Red's streak of luck fizzled out, he wouldn't have +to go back to buying cigarettes by the cent's worth. The +man was too bull-headed, though, to listen to anything +like this. He did, however, buy his old mother a fine +house and install her in it, and the old lady had stiff +black silk dresses and poppy-ornamented bonnets galore +in which to go to mass.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Meanwhile Red was going up against all kinds of +games around town every night, and it honestly appeared +as if he couldn't lose. Craps, stud poker, draw, +wheel, red and black, mustang, bank—all seemed to be +right in Donnelly's mitt. A lot of us used to turn up +where he was bucking things every night, and, following +his play, we always got the good end of it. He didn't +know much about any of the games, and the idiotic +things we had often to do in order to consistently follow +his play made us gag, but nine times out of ten +them came out right. One man in our party, a bookmaker, +who determined to copper all of Red's play at +the different games, on the theory that Donnelly's luck +had to turn some time or another, almost went broke before +he came into the fold and quit coppering.</p> +<p class="pnext">"All of this time Donnelly had simply been nibbling +at the red stuff. By the time his great luck was a month +old, however, the booze had nailed him, and he got to +throwing in the hooters early in the morning. A man +can't drink in the morning and hang on either to luck or +judgment. Red came into the ring palpably drunk one +afternoon and spread around $20,000 on Strathmeath +at even money. None of us wanted to take the +money, for if ever there was a rank in-and-outer, that +horse was Strathmeath. But Red was insistent and +a bit ugly, and we accommodated him. Strathmeath ran +third, beaten out by two dogs. That night Donnelly +dropped $20,000 more at faro. Then he didn't +go to bed for five nights, and at the end of that +time he had about $6000 left. I never saw luck drop +away from a man like it did from Red Donnelly. +For instance, he was whacking at a bank one night, +stupefied with hooters of half rye and half absinthe, and +he shut one eye so he wouldn't see double and fixed it +on the nine spot. He played the nine open for $100 a +clip, and lost it twelve straight times. The frowns of the +Lady Fortune got his nerve, and he began to play favorites +at the track. The favorites went down to inglorious +defeat, one after another, for days.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Some of the right kind of people, including Schreiber, +got hold of Red when he had only the $6000 left, landed +him in a fix-up ward, and sobered him up. When he +came out Donnelly was set up with an interest in an express +business. I don't believe he ever saw the inside +of the express office more than half dozen times, except +to draw what was coming to him. He was at the track +all the time the races lasted, and when the season closed +he put in his time down on the levee. He never had a +day's luck after his big streak up to the last hour of his +death, somewhat less than a year after they came his way +with a whoop and a rush.</p> +<p class="pnext">"When the goddess smiles upon you, you want to +stroke her hair, chuck her under the chin and be good +to her, for she rarely acts amiable twice to a man who +treats her favors wantonly."</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="and-red-beak-jim-took-the-tip"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id10">AND "RED BEAK JIM" TOOK THE TIP.</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">Plunge Made by a Hackman on the Suburban Handicap Won by Kinley Mack.</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">"We'll get Red Beak Jim to hike us down in his caloosh," +said the main guy of the four. The four were job +holders in one of the New York city departments, and +they were talking about ways and means of reaching the +Sheepshead track for the Suburban.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Good thing," said the three others. "Go on and ask +Jimmy for a figure, down and back, for the bunch. Hey, +and don't let him dicker you out o' your gilt teeth. Jimmy's +a robber."</p> +<p class="pnext">So the main guy of the four sprinted after Red Beak +Jim. He found him with the major portion of his countenance +immersed in the collarette of an open-faced malt +magnum.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Hey, Jim," said the main guy, "hitch 'em up and +bring 'em around about noon. Down to the Bay and back. +There's four of us. What d'ye say to the note for $10 for +the job?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Red Beak Jim removed the mammoth piece of glassware +from his face long enough to remark:</p> +<p class="pnext">"Nothin' doin'."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Ain't, hey?" said the main guy. "The old caloosh's +fallen apart at last, hey?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Red Beak Jim sat the beer-glass down and wiped off his +mouth with the back of his coat-sleeve.</p> +<p class="pnext">"It'll be jugglin' around when you're yelling for ice +at any old price a hunnered," said he. "Nope, I'm 'ngaged +f'r th' Bay."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Say, you've got your fingers crossed or your suspenders," +said the main guy. "Give you fifteen for the job."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Goin' t' take three down," said Red Beak Jim. "Ten +a head. Sorry I didn't ask 'em fifteen. Trucks is chargin' +ten a head."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Ten a head," said the main guy, sarcastically. "What +in, zinc money? Hey, pull around, Jim, or you'll lose a +wheel. Ten a head? Get away with that hasheesh. Give +us a figure."</p> +<p class="pnext">"You've got it," replied Red Beak Jim. "Ten per, +round trip. I'm a good thing at that. But I'm 'ngaged."</p> +<p class="pnext">"So's me little sister," said the main guy. "All right, +work your edge. What's ten a head to us, at that? Hey, +we got the baby to-day, Jim, and you want to put some +braces under that old caloosh. We'll have two ton o' +money coming back. Bring 'er around, then, at noon. +Say, you ought to get a pair o' knucks and a sandbag. +You're too good on the clutch to push a caloosh around. +Have 'er there prompt at noon, now, Jim."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Sure," said Red Beak Jim, and he was there at noon, +all right, with the hack all varnished up and dusted off, +and the pair looking fit to reel off a mile in five minutes, +on the bit. The four were inside, stirring their pieces of +ice around with the spoons, when Red Beak Jim pulled +up. He jumped off the seat and stuck his head in the +door.</p> +<p class="pnext">"At the pump, gents," said he.</p> +<p class="pnext">They yanked him in to have one before the start, and +they all got him over into the dark corner. Then the main +guy addressed him.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Jim," said the main guy, "we're handing this to you +because you're all right—from the heels down. On the +level, though, Jim, we pass this along to you because it's +right. It's prepared. It's a nightingale in the woods, and +it'll be singing when all the rest of 'em are still trying to +find out where the wire is. Horse of the century? Nix. +Not for these little Willies. The black, let 'er sleep wonder? +Not. We stay out there. The Whitney thing with +the Frenchy name? Hoot, mon. Pass this squad by. +Nope. We got it right, Jimmy. And we're handing you +the forty bucks now so's you can plant it right. Here's +the forty—and say, you want to remember that you're +paid, see? Well, you get over the fence somehow—let a +kid take care o' your two goats and the caloosh—and you +put the whole forty on Kinley Mack. See? Got that +chalked? You put the forty on Kinley Mack, and part o' +the two ton o' gilt we'll have on the come-back 'll belong to +you. Kinley Mack's going to stand 'em all on their heads +and twist 'em round. Don't say we didn't put you next. +Uneeda win. Well, you win. Nothing to it. Kinley Mack. +Ain't that right, you ducks?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"That's right, all right," said the other three, all together.</p> +<p class="pnext">Red Beak Jim emptied the flagon thoughtfully.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I got mine at that game," said he finally. "They +made a bum o' me before you people was through playin' +jacks. They can run f'r Hogan. These"—salting away +the two twenties the main guy had handed him—"will do +f'r me. I don't want t' git rich fast, nohow. I'd booze meself +foolish. Much 'bliged, gents, but I can't see no Kinley +Macks or Billy Bryans, f'r that matter, wit' a spy-glass."</p> +<p class="pnext">"All right," said the main guy, disgustedly. "But when +the ring's around Kinley Mack, and they're paying off the +wise people on him, you want to muffle the bleats you'll +have coming, see? Don't say we never dished you up a hot +one. You're a sport, Jimmy, and so's a tadpole. You'll +never butt in among the first six. All right. Come on, +you people."</p> +<p class="pnext">They clinked the pieces of ice against the sides of their +glasses once more, and then they climbed into the hack +and were away in a row, to a good start.</p> +<p class="pnext">At each of the seven places at which they stopped for +ice, with trimmings, on the way down to the Bay, they +announced to friends that they met that it was only going +to be a one horse race.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Run on a fast track, hey?" said the main guy to +everybody he knew at the stops. "Say, that's his graft. +That's his main plant. A race-horse can run on any old +kind of a track. Say, you get tied up with this horse of +the century business and you smoke stogies for a few +months. Ethelbert, the horse of the century, hey? Say, +d'je ever happen to hear of Salvator and Tenny and Hanover +and Lamplighter and Henry of Navarre and Sir +Walter and Raceland and Hamburg and a few old two-dollar +mutts like that? Did, hey? Well, say, do they butt +in? Say, Hamburg could've run backward as fast as this +horse of the century that you people have all got the bug +about. Kinley Mack! Kinley Mack! Hey, fellers?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Thash ri'," said the other three, and then they climbed +into the hack again.</p> +<p class="pnext">When they got down to the track entrance and alighted +the main guy of the four, still mindful of his duty toward +struggling fellow men, made a final appeal to Red Beak +Jim.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Jim," said he, "how about taking our steer, hey? +This is the good thing o' the year. It's going to be a long +summer. Going to put that forty on Kinley Mack?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'm goin' t' take a nap after I have a smoke," replied +Red Beak Jim, filling his pipe.</p> +<p class="pnext">The four walked away with an air of disgust, while +Red Beak Jim grinned after them.</p> +<p class="pnext">Each of the four had a one-hundred-dollar note wherewith +to back Kinley Mack off the boards. The temptations +of the first three races, however, collared them, and +when the slate went up for the Suburban they each had a +fifty-dollar note wherewith to play Kinley Mack, the good +thing. When the horses were at the post for the third +race, the main guy, who happened to be standing close +to the fence that separates the grand-stand crowd from +the people in the cheap field, saw Red Beak Jim, with +his hands in his pockets and his pipe in his mouth, leaning +against the rail. He called the hackman, and Red +Beak Jim approached the fence with a grin.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Thought you'd get on, anyhow, hey?" said the main +guy.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Naw, I jes' crep in t' see 'em run an' hear th' hard +losers tell how it was they lost," said Red Beak Jim. +"Nothin' doin' wit' me."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Ain't going to put those forty on Kinley Mack, hey?" +asked the main guy.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Not if I'm awake," said Red Beak Jim, and the main +guy walked away from the fence with an expression +of commiseration on his face.</p> +<p class="pnext">The horses were still at the post for the third race +when the main guy was approached by a horseman he +knew. The horseman was chewing a straw. He looked +very wise.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Cashed yet on Imp?" the horseman asked the main +guy.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Hey?" asked the latter, bending his ear.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Only a canter for that one," said the horseman, in +a low tone, temporarily removing the straw from his +face. "Just a little exercise gallop for the black filly."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Say, is that right?" inquired the main guy. "Is she +so good as all that to-day?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Surest thing you know," said the horseman. "She'll +give 'em all a fifty-pound beating or I don't know a hoof +from a currycomb. I'm only spinning this along to the +people I've got some use for. That's the reason I dip it +up for you."</p> +<p class="pnext">"But say," whispered the main guy of the four, "I +got it straight as a ramrod on Kinley Mack."</p> +<p class="pnext">The horseman smiled benignly.</p> +<p class="pnext">"On this track?" said he. "That one wouldn't beat +a fat man on this track. He wants slop and slush. I'm +only telling you, that's all. You splurge on Imp, and it'll +be all yours."</p> +<p class="pnext">"I always was stuck on that darned old mare, anyhow," +mused the main guy of the four, as he walked off +in search of the other three. "She sure can rip the air +when she's ripe. Got a thunder of a notion to switch +to her at that. That fellow ought to know. He's been +handling 'em long enough. Kinley Mack only a mudder, +hey? Had kind of a hunch that way myself, but I didn't +want to own up. Last week, before I got this Kinley +Mack thing, I was sure going to play Imp, and I'd feel +like a nickel's worth of lard if she'd go out and spread-eagle +'em now that I've got this Kinley Mack thing."</p> +<p class="pnext">He stood still for a moment with his hands in his pockets, +oblivious of the jostling crowd, and then he slapped +his thigh.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I've got the hunch—it's Imp!" he muttered. +"Lemme find the fellers and put 'em next."</p> +<p class="pnext">He found the other three. They were putty when +the main guy told them what the horseman had said. +They'd always liked Imp, anyhow.</p> +<p class="pnext">Their four fifty-dollar notes went on Imp straight, +when the slates went up. They all stood together and +rooted for the black mare when the horses got off. When +Kinley Mack romped in, an easy winner, they didn't say +anything at all. They didn't even look at one another. +They avoided one another's gaze, thrust their +hands deep into their pockets and studied the jockeys as +they dismounted. When the first numbness had passed +the main guy of the four led them to the bar and they +drank the longest one of the day in silence. They looked +up into their glasses as they twiddled their spoons, but +they didn't look at one another.</p> +<p class="pnext">There was $17 still left among the four—not enough +for any sort of celebration or doings when they got back +to town. So the main guy gathered up the $17 in silence +and put it all on a horse at 10 to 1 in the fifth race, with +the idea of running the shoestring into a tannery. The +10 to 1 shot was never in the hunt at any stage of it, +and they were all out. Silently they wended their way +out of the gate.</p> +<p class="pnext">Red Beak Jim was sitting on the seat of the hack, with +his legs crossed, smoking a pipe. He looked interested +when the four came along.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Youse people must have all kinds," said he.</p> +<p class="pnext">They climbed into the hack without a word.</p> +<p class="pnext">"D'je play that one?" inquired Red Beak Jim, picking +up the lines.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Ask me aunt," growled the main guy.</p> +<p class="pnext">Red Beak Jim clucked at the horses, and they moved +off in good style.</p> +<p class="pnext">The hackman pulled the horses up alongside the step +in front of the first roadhouse.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Hey, don't get too glad all of a sudden," growled +the main guy to Red Beak Jim. "Who told you to do +that?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Red Beak Jim disposed of the lines and stepped down +without making any reply, while the four watched him +gloomily. Then he grinned, hoisted up the right-hand +front flap of his livery coat, dug into his right-hand +trousers pocket and pulled out a wad about the size of a +healthy cantaloupe.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'll ask youse gents to split a couple o' quarts on me," +said Red Beak Jim. "I got 8 to 1 f'r me forty."</p> +<p class="pnext">They gazed at him and his wad with their jaws dropping.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Did you play Kinley Mack?" they gurgled in unison.</p> +<p class="pnext">"That's the one youse people said, ain't it?" inquired +Red Beak Jim. "I t'ought I'd take a little flyer on him, +jes' f'r luck."</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="the-game-of-running-ringers"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id11">THE GAME OF RUNNING "RINGERS."</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">And How He Got a Horseman Without Much of a Conscience into Hot Water.</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">"No Man alive can afford to lose the friendship even +of a yaller dog. Not even an ornery yaller dog can you +afford to have agin' you at any stage of the game. The +dog'll get back at you one time or another, sooner or +later, and take a mouthful or two out of you, if you +haven't had sense enough to keep him on your staff of +friends."</p> +<p class="pnext">The man who used to make a business of putting ringers +over the plates at the outlaw race-tracks had passed +from the reflective to the confidential mood. Perhaps the +rings which he made on the cherry table with the bottom +of his glass suggested circular race-tracks to him. Perhaps +the prancing of the fox-terrier pup in the back +room made him think of horses kicking up at the post. +But, whatever the cause of it, his burst of confidence +was unusual, and the other men at the table listened to +him attentively.</p> +<p class="pnext">"My yellow dog was a yellow man—that is, the one +I'm thinking about just now," he went on. "He took +a hunk out of me down at Alexander Island, Va., near +Washington, about five years ago. He had me out. All +he had to do was to count ten on me and take the pot, and +he knew it. He worked the edge. I didn't blame him a +bit then, and I don't now. But it was hard money to lose. +When I get hold of the right end of a bulge on a man that +I've got it in for, I don't hesitate to work it myself—but +I always feel a bit sorry for a man that I get up into a +corner, all the same. This yellow man felt sorry for me. +He showed it. He was about as sympathetic a yellow +man as ever I saw on the occasion I'm going to tell you +about. But he wouldn't let go, for all that. He needed +the money, of course, but then he wanted to get back at +me, too.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I'se dun got de aige on yo' all, boss,' he told me, +'an I'm sure a-gwine t' wuk it laik uh mean nigguh. But +yo' dun me dutty, Cap.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"You see, I had employed this yellow man as a stable +hand when I first got my string of ringers together and +took them out. He was all right for the first few months +of the winter campaign, but then he began to get jagged +on me with a heap of regularity. He got mixed up with +that gin that they keep on hand in Maryland for the +Afro-American trade, and it spoiled him for me. He +was no use whatever after the gin took hold of him. I +warned him a lot, but it did no good. I was a little bit +afraid of the job, for he knew a good deal about my +string, but I finally decided that I'd have to take a chance +and fire him. I turned up at the track stable one morning—this +wasn't more'n a million miles from Baltimore—and +I found my yellow man Lem sulky and ugly drunk, and +the string chewing on their stalls. I gave him a boot +and a hist out of the stable and told him not to come +back.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'This yellow man'll probably queer me,' I thought +at the time, 'but I can't go along playing 1000 to 1 +shots like him for favorites. If he peaches—well, there +are other States besides Maryland.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"I was rather surprised that he didn't come back when +he got sober. But, nope, he didn't come back at all. I +got another stableman and during the following week, +the last of the meeting, I pulled off three good painted +things with as good as 15 to 1 around two of 'em, without +yellow Lem turning up to pester me at all. I thought +of him a good deal. Every time I got one of my plugs +at the post I stood by to see the yellow man walk into +the judges' stand and give me away. I'll bet I lost ten +pounds worrying about that darkey and what he might +do during that last week in Maryland. I felt as light +as a snowball when I got my string out of that State +and over at the Alexander Island track, near Washington. +When I got 'em all safe over there, says I to myself, +'This yellow ex-man o' mine is probably back in Thompson +street, with his carcass full of gin by this time. So +I'll just cut out the worry about him.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, I started in at the preliminary work of pulling +off a real swell thing at Alexander Island. It was about +as easy to enter a horse down there as it is to go broke +up here, and I put the best one of my lot in the overnight +races for a week. I entered him as a half-breed from a +Warrenton farm—a maiden six-year-old. It went +through easy, the overnight entering did, and I began +to lay my horse up for a price. The horse had done a +mile in 1.40-1/2 and he had the whole bunch down at Alexander +Island outclassed by 212 pounds. The plug had +belonged to the best of the Western selling-plater division +as a three- and four-year-old and he had been in a few +stakes at that. I got him as a five-year-old and he surely +was a meal-ticket for me. He wasn't painted a bit—you +didn't have to dye 'em at Alexander Island. If Hanover +had been an outlaw you could have stuck him into any +old race down there and they'd never have got next.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I had a boy along with the string who'd been chased +off the Western licensed tracks for funny work, and what +that boy didn't know about riding like as if his life +depended on his winning, and forty wraps on his mount +all the time, wasn't worth knowing. Say, he had six +separate and distinct bridle welts on both of his forearms +that he got in pulling horses. He was invaluable, that +boy. When we were out to win he never made anything +but a nose finish of it even if our horse was up against +the worst set of outlaw dray-plugs in training. Oh, that +boy knew his gait all right! I did the best I could to +keep him from going to Joliet for pocketpicking in Chicago +a couple o' years ago, but it was no use. He's still +doing his bit.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, I had him sail this good nag of mine over the +course in seven races the first ten days of the meeting. +The horse was a bit too likely looking, and there was +only 5 to 1 against him in the first race. He finished +fourth. The boys in the ring quoted 8 to 1 around him +in No. 2 race, and he finished sixth in a field of seven. +And so on. He was in the ruck in most of the races, +and he finished the last two of the seven a rank last. +By that time you could have written your own ticket if you +wanted to play him, which is what I was waiting for. +My boy complained that during the last three races he +had all colors of trouble in holding the horse in.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'You'd better open the watermelon quick,' said +he to me after the seventh race, 'or I'm liable to lose him +and win the next time out.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"And so I had the pie counter all spread out for his +next time out. It was a six-furlong race, which was my +horse's distance. Two of the cracks of the outlaw brigade +were in the race, and they both opened up at even money. +Then one of 'em was played down to 1 to 2 on. It +was a twelve-horse race, and my nag opened up the rank +outsider with any amount of 100 to 1 quoted around him. +I didn't want to be too chesty and spoil my dough, and so +I only took $50 worth of it, scattering it around in $10 +gobs. I reckoned that $5000 would be a good-enough +pulldown on the race, and I didn't want to take any +chances on being shut out of the game down at Alexander +Island. I put a few of the boys I knew next to what was +going to happen, told 'em not to go it too strong or they'd +queer me, and they mixed up $5 all over the ring on my +100 to 1 horse, that should have gone to the post at 1 to +100. They broke the price down to 30 to 1, but that +didn't make any difference to me, for I had picked up +all I wanted of the 100 to 1.</p> +<p class="pnext">"When they went to the post I picked out a spot on +the rail some distance away from the grand stand to watch +the race. I felt pretty good. I knew it was going through. +My horse had worked the six furlongs in 1:16 flat the +afternoon before, and I knew that he was easy money. +The only thing I was afraid of was that he would get +away from the boy and beat the bunch by eight blocks, +thus bringing me into the judges' stand on suspicion. I +was thinking of all these things when I heard a voice behind +me.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Aftuhnoon, Cap,' said the voice. 'How's yo' all tuh-day?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"I looked around. The voice belonged to Lem, my fired +yellow stable man. Lem was sober, and got up as if for a +cake-walk. He had business in his eye, too.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Hello, there,' says I, kind of coddingly. 'How're +you cutting it?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Oh, tol'able, boss—tol'able,' he replied.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Where are you working?' I asked him.</p> +<p class="pnext">"He smiled blandly in my teeth.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I'se a-wukkin' yo' all dis aftuhnoon, boss,' said he. +'But I ain't no hog. Jes' half o' de rake-down'll do me. +Mus' hev dat much, fo' sure. Jes' nachully need dat +much.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'What the devil are you talking about?' I asked him, +but I knew he had me where he wanted me.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well, yo' see, boss, it's jes' dis-a-way,' he replied. +'I'se a-gwine tuh quit rubbin' dem down an' take tuh +speculashunin' m'sef. I'se a-gwine tuh staht fo' San Francisco +tuh see whut all I kin do with de bookies out da-a-way, +an' jes' nachully needs de coin tuh go on out an' begin +wuk on 'em. Dis yeah's uh good one yo' all's pullin' +down tuh-day, an' I was trailin' yo' w'en yo' all put yo' +bets down. Yo' stan's tuh win $5,000 on de ole hoss, an' +yo'll win it. I'll take ha'f o' dat, boss, an' go on out tuh +de coast tracks with it.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"I think I must have been looking pretty hard at that +yellow man when he slung me this spiel. Oh, he had me +all right. It was my looking at him so hard that made +him get off the rest of the speech:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I'se dun got de aidge on yo' all, boss, an' I'm sure +a-gwine tuh wuk it laik uh mean nigguh. But yo' dun +me dutty, Cap.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"As I say, I knew he had me, but just out of curiosity +I shot this one at him:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'S'pose, you yellow devil, that I don't cough up a red +of it? What then?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"He grinned and rolled his eyes over toward the +judges' stand.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I'd jes' nachully be obleeged tuh do de bes' I could +fo' de proteckshun o' de spoht o' racin,' he replied.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The horses were still making false breaks at the post +and it was too late for me to hop into the ring and lay +enough down to win $2,500 for the yellow man and still +have $5,000 to the good myself. It was a sore game, that, +but I had to stand for it.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'All right,' I said to the darkey, 'you've turned this +trick and you'll get the $2,500. But you want to go West +with it, as you say you are, or I'll get a night doctor or +two on your trail. Chop away from here and I'll see you +after the race.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I knows yo' will, boss,' said the yellow man, giving +me that triumphant grin of his, and he turned and went +down the rail to take in the race. Race, did I say? Oh, it +wasn't a race. My horse got away from the post three +lengths to the bad, and he trailed after the bunch dismally +all the way around to the stretch turn, but I never had a +quake. I could see, if nobody else could, that my boy was +ripsawing the horse's mouth, and I knew it was all right. +At the stretch turn the boy let out a couple of links and the +nag joined the front bunch. The boy drew it fine, as I +had instructed him, and won by a short head, and it was +funny to see the wise guys from Washington who had +scattered all kinds of Government-earned money all over +the ring turning mental flipflaps of despair. I watched to +see if there'd be any holler about anything when the boy +weighed in, but there wasn't, and the race was confirmed +all right. I went around and did my own collecting, and +several of the poor devils of bookies had to go out of business +after the rest of the boys that I had put on to the +thing came along and cashed their tickets. I found my +yellow man waiting for me on the outside of the ring, and +when I got him into the shadow I gave up the $2,500. I +saw that he got a ticket and started for San Francisco the +next day. I felt so sad when I heard a few months later +that in an attempt to learn how to smoke hop out there, +to add to his jag répertoire, he had died in a Chinese joint +after hitting up thirty-six pills. I felt so sad."</p> +<p class="pnext">The ex-ringer operator was plunged in meditation for a +while, the others remaining sympathetically silent, and +then he resumed in another strain.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Next to the worst jolt I ever got—and the worst was +the time down in Maryland when one of my plugs with +two whitewashed barrel spots and a whitewashed forehead +star got rained on at the post, practically out of a +clear sky, and the spots got washed out, and I had to get +out of the State of Maryland over fences—next to that +jolt, the way one of my boys threw it into me at a county +fair meeting in West Virginia was pretty bad. I had +tongue-hammered that kid pretty hard two or three times +at that meeting for winning when his mounts weren't due +to win and I didn't want 'em to win, and he got sulky. I +tried to coddle him up a bit, for I had a real good one to +pull off on the last day of the fair, and I thought I had +him all right on my staff again. The real good thing was +a horse of mine that I had entered in the final race, which +the jays down there called a mile race for the 1:55 running +class.' 1:55! I had a skate with me down there that +could just common canter a mile in 1:45, and he could +have done it in three seconds better if pinched at any time. +I had had the plug lose three or four races during the fair +meeting, and he wasn't as good as Chinese money in the +estimation of the West Virginians by the time the race +that he was going to win came around. My boy was to +have the mount, and our mutual confidence seemed to be +restored by the time the good thing was booked to happen. +But he had an ice-pick up his sleeve for me all the +time."</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Didn't try with the horse, and lost, eh?' asked one +of the ex-ringer worker's listeners.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Oh, no, it wasn't that,' was the reply. The horse +won by a tongue, and the boy gave him a beautiful tight +ride to keep him from winning further off. But he put +every grafter that he knew, and he knew 'em all at the +fair meeting next to what was going to happen, and made +split terms with all of them. That is, he put 'em on, on +condition that he was to get half of each man's winnings +on the race. Now, I had figured on picking up $8,000 or +$10,000 easy on that good thing, and I had lain awake +nights making plans to meet possible hitches. It certainly +wasn't treating me right, the way that boy did. I thought +I'd get as good as 25 to 1, anyhow, at the first betting. I +intended to take a mess o' that and then wait for the betting +to go up, for I confidently expected, and had a right +to expect, that the nag's price, in view of what the farmers +down there thought of him, would go up to 50 or 100.</p> +<p class="pnext">"When the betting on the race opened I was on hand +with my wad. Say, I couldn't get within twenty feet of a +one of the twelve bookies doing business. I never saw +such a scramble, even in the 50-cent field at Sheepshead. +Of course, I thought they were all getting aboard of the +favorite, and so I drew back, knowing that if they were +playing the favorite my plug would be going up in price +all the time. Then I noticed a lot of the educated money, +the coin of the grafters that I knew around the grounds, +going in, and I wondered if they were Rubes enough to +play a favorite in the last race on get-away day. So I +drew close to the bookies' stands—as close as I could get—and +then I found that they were all writing my horse's +name. Nothing but my horse. Not a horse in the race +but my horse. It was a staggerer, that was. Of course, I +thought of my miffed jockey right away, and I knew he +had done it. When I finally was able to get up to the +bookies, I found that my plug's price had been played +down from 20 to 1 to 9 to 10 on, and I was so disgusted +that I stayed off altogether, although I knew my horse +was going to win. He did win. The boy couldn't peach +because his rake-down had been too big, but he showed +me $3,500 in bills an hour after the race, got off twenty +feet and told me all about it, and then bolted. I haven't +seen him since."</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="experiences-of-a-verdant-bookmaker"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id12">EXPERIENCES OF A VERDANT BOOKMAKER.</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">Wherein It Is Shown That, When There Is "Something Doing," a Bank-roll Is Liable to Be Wrecked.</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">"I heard somewhere the other day," said one of a party +of turfmen who were dining together after the McGovern-Erne +fight, "that Billy Thompson, the ex-Duke of +Gloucester, is trying to cook up some scheme whereby +the legal authorities of New Jersey 'll relent and permit +him to start the old Gloucester merry-go-round again. +I don't think he'll make it stick, if the story is true, +but if Gloucester ever is started again I know a man +who'd be very liable to burn the barns down some dark +night. I don't think he'd let the Gloucester mud-lark +and snow bird race-track operate while he lives.</p> +<p class="pnext">"In 1880 this man I'm talking about—he had passed +up a good grocery business to play the races a year before—had +nursed together a wad of about six thousand +dollars, and this gave him a bad case of the Sandow +vest. He was so chesty over having all that money that +he concluded he'd try a whirl on the block. There was +only winter racing going on when he got that smoky +notion into his hat, and that was at Gloucester. As you +fellows know, they used to run 'em there in snow up +to the saddle pommels, and the plug that could make out +the best without going over the fence, or that didn't become +crazy from snow blindness, always yanked down +the money at Gloucester—that is, if he was meant to +win.</p> +<p class="pnext">"This ex-sugar-and-tea guy was a dead verdant one +at the bookmaking game when he went on the block +at Gloucester, but he kept his ears open and his mouth +shut, and he had quite a streak of luck, besides, from +the go-off, so that at the end of his first week at laying +odds he found that he'd averaged a clean-up of about +$200 a day. You couldn't see him then without sending +up your card, he was so vast and heap-much. He +was thinking of going down Dixieway to make a bid on +the Belle Meade farm, and, by the end of his third week +on the block, when he had run his $6000 into a bit more +than $10,000, he was probably the haughtiest gazabo on +this side of the Rocky Mountains.</p> +<p class="pnext">"One day—it was at the beginning of his fourth week +at bookmaking—a duck who had a string of good ones—of +their kind—chasing the Gloucester will-o'-the-wisp +for the poolroom purses, invited himself to take dinner +with the ex-grocer with the streak of luck. After they +had stored the feed away at the high-riding bookmaker's +Philadelphia hotel, the man with the string leaned back +in his chair and sprung what he had in mind. He mentioned +the star sprinter of his string.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'You know, of course,' said he confidentially, to the +ex-grocer, 'that that nag can eat up any horse down +here at three-quarters of a mile. He'd never be beaten +at that distance if we let him out every time he went to +the post to race. But, of course, if I'd let him win every +time out, there would never be any price on him. He'd +be a 1 to 20 shot every time he got a lead-pad on, and +I'm not going down the line on that kind of prices. +Neither am I running my string over at Gloucester for +hygienic reasons. Perceive?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"The new bookie perceived.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well,' this oily geezer went on, 'that horse is entered +in a six-furlong sprint to-morrow, as you know. +He'll probably be an even-money favorite. He'll lose.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'He will, hey?' said the new man on the block, suspicious +like. 'That's darned good of you to tell me. +But you're not telling me that for your health, either. +He's going to lose, eh?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Yep, he'll lose,' repeated the smooth owner. 'Now, +you're a pretty nice young fellow, ain't you? I like you. +Understand?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Um,' said the ex-grocer. 'What's your graft, anyhow?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well, as I say, that skate of mine is going to lose,' +said the confidential owner once more. 'Now, you see this +thousand-dollar William, don't you? Well, I want you to +take a thousand-dollars' worth of my horse to win +for my account, see, when you make your book on that +race. He may be as good as 2 to 1, but he's going to lose +anyhow. You see, I just want to pick up an honest dollar +or so. You take this $1,000 of the suckers' money for +me on your book, and your reward 'll be in knowing +what's going to happen. You can hunch up the price, see? +Is it a go?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Now, this looked like a pretty good thing to the groceryman. +It looked like taking candy from a child. If +that owner's horse wasn't going to lose, it looked like a +cinch that he wasn't going to risk any thousand-dollar +bills on the game. So the new bookie told the owner that +he was on, took his $1,000, and figured on the pounding +he was going to give the talent the next day. He chuckled +to himself when the other books only laid even money +against the sprinter when the betting on the race began +the next afternoon.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'They wouldn't do a thing but fall over themselves +to lay a long price if they knew, like I do, that the favorite +is going to kerflop,' mused the ex-groceryman—he wailed +me the whole spiel afterward—and he laid 2 to 1 against +the sprinter's chances on his slate. The other bookies over +his way looked as if they thought he was wheely, but he +only exulted whole lots inside of him.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'You are wise people,' he thought, 'but this is where +I get the big end of it.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Within three minutes after he had started his slate +he had taken in the horse owner's $1,000 worth of his +horse at 2 to 1. The handicappers just battled to get at +his book at their figures. Said he to himself, 'I'll just +tap myself on this watermelon,' and by the time the horses +went to the post he had taken in $5,000 of the public +money at 2 to 1 on that horse that was going to lose, and +he knew that he'd be just $5,000 to the good.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Of course you chaps are next. When the horses got +away the skate that the ex-grocer had laid his whole +$1,000 against walked in on the bit, fifteen lengths to the +good in a buck-jump. He was under twenty wraps all +the way from the flag-fall.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The new bookie paid out his $10,000, bought a clay +pipe and an eight-cent package of punk tobacco, and went +out of business, and he's been out of business ever since. +It took him about a week to get contiguous to the fact +that the men who collected his $10,000 were the smooth +owner's commissioners, but when he went gunning the +owner had removed his string from Gloucester, and was +taking a little winter cruise in a felucca in the Ægean +Sea. But if Gloucester ever starts up again, and there's a +conflagration, I'll know how it started."</p> +<p class="pnext">"There's another chap that I know of who's been smoking +unfragrant tobacco in a pipe for a good many years +on account of an outlaw track deal," said one of the other +turfmen at the table, "but he wasn't a new man at the +game. He was an old-timer—so much of an old-timer +that it was up to him to know that, once having made a +tool of a man or a boy in the racing business, it is never +the part of wisdom to throw him overboard on the presumption +that he's a dead one. Turf followers, as you fellows +all know, have a habit of resurrecting themselves at +inopportune moments when it seems that they are so +deeply buried that they'll never struggle to the top of the +ground again, and when they do run a shoe-tongue into +a tan-yard they are more than liable to get hunk with +former pals who have cast them aside in the hour of adversity. +Now, it is a particularly dangerous thing for any +man connected with racing to do business with a jockey. +I never heard of a bit of jockey-tampering that didn't get +out sooner or later, to the disadvantage of the man that +did the corrupting. I guess we all know of cases in which +jockeys, after being ruled off for crooked work, have become +exacting pensioners on the hands of the men responsible +for their downfall for long stretches of years. +The story I have in mind is of a jockey who, while he +wasn't set down through following the directions of the +bookmaker he did business with, was treated with characteristic +meanness by the latter when he was up against it +owing to an accident; and the way this jock got even with +his former tamperer was unique.</p> +<p class="pnext">"You all remember the boy Kelley? He wasn't exactly +a boy at the time this thing happened—he was a man of +twenty-two or so, which probably accounted for the fact +that when he was riding at Guttenberg he had most of the +other jockeys faded; give me a rider with a man's hand +on his shoulders every time for my horse. Now, the +morale of Guttenberg wasn't like unto that pervading a +theological institution, but Kelley the jock wasn't any +worse than his neighbors. He was like all the rest of the +people mixed up with the weird game at the Gut. It was +a poor jock at the Gut who didn't have a bookmaker on his +staff, and Kelley wasn't a poor jock by fifty good pounds +under the saddle. It used to be an off day with Kelley +when he didn't put up a ride in accordance with this bookmaker's +orders. All of the jocks at the Gut did similar +things, and they were stood for. The hectic flush of humiliation +didn't mantle the alabaster countenances of the +Gut stewards to any huge extent when the 1 to 5 shot was +beaten a furlong. Kelley was enabled to throw big money +into his bookie's satchel, because, being such a top-notch +rider of outlaws, most of his mounts went to the post favorites; +so that when he snatched a horse it meant the +good of the books, and of his bookmaker in particular, for +the latter would of course lay the longest price in their +judgment against one that he knew was going to run like +a mackerel along a dusty road. Kelley profited fairly well +at the hands of this bookmaker, and on his side he was +absolutely loyal in his crookedness. He invariably delivered +the goods. He had the knack of making it appear to +the people with the field glasses that he was riding like +a fiend, when in reality he had his horse pulled double, +and when he was following orders he could permit the +favorite under him to be beaten out by a tongue on the +wire in a way that would raise the hair of the folks in the +stand.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, one day Kelley was dumped from a horse he +was riding when the track was slippery and broke his leg. +He had been improvident and extravagant, like most of +the jocks of that day, so that when the accident put him +on the flat of his back he found himself broke. What was +more natural than that he should send to the bookmaker +whose orders he had been following for a long time for +assistance? He wrote to the bookie and asked for the +loan of $100. The bookmaker ignored the request. Then +the laid-up jockey sent a friend to the bookmaker. The +latter made some remark about not coughing up for the +oats and keep of dead ones—figuring, you see, that Kelley's +injuries were such that he wouldn't be able to get +back to the riding game until the close of the meeting. So +the jockey had to stave off doctors' and other bills as best +he could, and I guess that he set his teeth down pretty +hard and did some robust thinking while his leg was healing.</p> +<p class="pnext">"A couple of months after this accident Kelley, somewhat +pale, turned up in the paddock at the Gut one morning +and announced that he was fit to ride again. His +services were immediately in demand, and Mike Daly got +him to ride his horse Gloster in the first race on the card. +Gloster was the best horse in the race and was certain to +be favorite. The bookie, who had used Kelley before his +accident and afterward turned him down, got to Kelley +by the underground process, through an agent, with the +inquiry as to whether a little business couldn't be done on +Gloster. Kelley, with all the good nature in life, sent word +that there could, certainly; that he could get Gloster +beaten by an eyelash.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The betting opened and Gloster was the favorite all +over the ring at odds of 1 to 2 on. Then Kelley's bookmaker +began to shoot the price up—first to 3 to 5 on, then +to 4 to 5 on, then to even money, and then right up to 6 +to 5 and even 7 to 5 against. The way that bookie hauled +in the money on Gloster was a caution. It seemed that +every plunger and casual bettor in the inclosure wanted a +piece of Gloster at Kelley's bookmaker's odds—all the rest +of the pencillers still held Gloster at 1 to 2 on—and the +bookmaker took in thousands of dollars on the horse. +When they were still whacking him with Gloster bets he +became somewhat nervous and sent his agent to Kelley +again for reassurance. Kelley told the agent again that +Gloster wasn't going to win.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'He's taking in billions on Gloster,' said the agent to +Kelley.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Let him handle the whole mint on the nag,' replied +Kelley. 'Gloster will just about get the place—maybe.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"In the meantime the judges, who occasionally made a +bluff at getting haughty and virtuous, got next to the big +odds that one bookmaker—Kelley's bookmaker—was +offering against Gloster, and, naturally enough, they became +suspicious. Five minutes before the horses were due +to go to the post, therefore, they called Kelley into the +stand and asked him squarely if there was anything doing +by which Gloster was going to get beat.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'If Gloster doesn't win this race,' replied Kelley, 'you +can rule me off for life.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Kelley had put every man, woman, child and dog that +he knew at the track on to the fact that he was going to +win by a Philadelphia block on Gloster, and the bookmaker +who had turned him down when he was on the flat +of his back with a broken stilt in the middle of winter +got the play of all of them. Dollar bets and $1,000 bets all +looked alike to the bookmaker. He took all the money that +came along without rubbing. He thought he had a corked-up +good thing.</p> +<p class="pnext">"When the bugle sounded and the horses emerged +from the paddock, the bookmaker, with his glasses in his +hand, was leaning against the rail, and he looked up with +a grin to catch Kelley's eye as the jockey rode by on Gloster. +He caught Kelley's eye, but there was no responsive +grin. There was, instead, a dirty sneer on Kelley's drawn, +pale mug, and, as he caught sight of the leering bookie he +drew Gloster up for just an instant and spat viciously in +the direction of the man who had treated him with such +ingratitude.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The bookmaker saw in that instant that he was +ditched. His face went white, and he clutched the rail, and +he was still digging his fingernails into the rail when, a +few minutes later, the victorious Gloster, who had won by +about half a furlong, was led into the paddock, with Kelley +walking alongside of him. When that bookie got +through paying off the Gloster bets he had taken in he +was out of business, and when the story of how it all came +about leaked out, there wasn't a man in the game that +didn't say that the bookie got all that was coming to him."</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="the-man-who-knew-all-about-touts"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id13">THE MAN WHO KNEW ALL ABOUT TOUTS.</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">And the Evaporation of His Resolution to Have Nothing to Do With Them.</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">"Touts," said Busyday, oracularly, to his companion +on a train bound for the Bay on Suburban day, "are the +derned nuisances of the racing game. You want to watch +out for them. If by chance you should get separated from +me in the crowd, don't you let any of the sharp-eyed, soft-voiced +ducks talk you into playing this or that one. Just +you stick to those selections I wrote out for you on that +piece of paper. They're the logical winners. A friend of +mine, whose brother is a bookmaker, handicapped 'em +for me, and I'm going to play every one of 'em myself. +That's the only way to win; stick to your selections, and +don't let yourself be touted. The man who listens to touts +smokes a pipe. Understand?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Uh, huh," replied Busyday's friend, who was from +Busyday's native town out West. He had never seen a +horse race in his life, whereas Busyday was an old-timer +and learned at the game, having seen three Handicaps and +two Suburbans ran.</p> +<p class="pnext">"They make kind of a lukewarm effort to keep the +touts off the tracks," went on Busyday, disparagingly; +"but the touts are too smooth for 'em, and they're always +around, looking for good things like you, old man. +All you've got to do is just to flout 'em from the jump, +as soon as they edge up to you, and they'll shoo-fly instantly, +rather than take chances on being spotted by the +Pinkerton people. Tell 'em to go to the devil, that's all."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Uh, huh," answered Busyday's friend and guest, +once more.</p> +<p class="pnext">It came to pass that Busyday and his visiting townsman +were separated before they had got off the train. +The car was jammed, and in the confusion of getting +off they made their exits by different doors. Busyday +frantically yelled out his friend's name as soon as he +found himself alone on the platform, but, of course, he +got no reply. His friend was engulfed in the crowd.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I s'pose I ought to have held hold of his hand, like +a fellow does when he takes his sister's kids out for a +walk," he reflected. "This is blasted mean luck from the +go-off. The touts'll get hold of him now, sure as +shootin', and they'll strip him. Good thing he's got his +ticket back to the little old slab of a town where we +used to play shinny together."</p> +<p class="pnext">Busyday roamed around the grand-stand and the betting +ring for ten minutes before the slates went up +for the first race, trying to catch sight of his friend, but +it was no use. His townsman wasn't visible anywhere. +Then a sudden swirling and eddying in the betting ring +told him that the prices were up for the first race.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'll have to pass the old boy up until I get this bet +down," said Busyday to himself, pulling out of his pocket +the slip of paper that the handicapper had given him the +evening before. "Let's see, what one of 'em have I got +to win this? Oh, yes; Peaceful—good name, but it +doesn't sound as if a horse with a name like that could +run much. I'd rather have a horse called Lightning Express, +or Cyclone, or Helen Blazes, or something like +that, run for my money. S'pose, though, this handicapping +chap knows what he is doing, and so I'll just +put my first ten on Peaceful to win. Hey? How's +that?"</p> +<p class="pnext">There was a soft, persuasive buzz right in Busyday's +ear.</p> +<p class="pnext">"D'ye notice all the suckers breakin' their necks t' +land on that Peaceful dead one?" were the words that +formed the buzz.</p> +<p class="pnext">Busyday jerked his head around suddenly, and he found +within four inches of his ear the countenance of a young-old +man with red hair, a freckled skin, and a pale-blue, +shifty eye.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Dead one?" echoed Busyday, the red-haired, young-old +man smiling amiably in his face.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Libster," said he of the pale-blue, shifty eye, looking +entirely disinterested. "Out-and-out libster. Crab. Run +about a dozen sprints, and still a merry maiden. And +look at the chancts th' mutt's had to win! Leads th' +percession into th' stretch every whirl, and then chucks +it. A proper dog, Cap. That's on the dead. Worst +quitter on th' grounds."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Um," said Busyday, stroking his chin and wondering +why his handicapper had picked Peaceful.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I got th' baby," buzzed the freckle-faced, young-old +man, after a silence.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Hey?" asked Busyday.</p> +<p class="pnext">"For a pipe," said the shifty-eyed one. "Say, I don't +git out o' me Waldorf bunk at 3 o'clock every mornin' for +me health."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Is that so?" inquired Busyday, just for the sake +of saying something.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Not on yer dinner pail," said the aged youth with the +shifty eye. "I light out fer th' tracks t' watch 'em at +their early mornin' works. I'm a railbird, all right, but +I know where th' dough is. I seen this baby that I'm +tellin' you about do the five-eighths in a minute flat th' +other mornin', an' if he ain't a moral fer this, here's my +lid an' you can eat it," whereupon the shifty-eyed one +removed his 50-cent straw hat and offered it to Busyday.</p> +<p class="pnext">"What's the name of this wonder?" inquired Busyday, +trying to work up a superior smile.</p> +<p class="pnext">The aged youth bent over, placed his mouth within a +quarter of an inch of Busyday's ear, and whispered:</p> +<p class="pnext">"Stuart. He'll walk."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Oh, well, then, I'll waste a ten-spot on Stuart," said +Busyday, trying to say it languidly, as if he didn't take +much stock in himself or anybody else. Then he plunged +into the vortex around one of the bookmakers' elevated +chairs, got his feet trod upon, his hat jammed down over +his eyes, and his ribs treated to an all-hands elbow massage, +and finally succeeded in passing up his ten-dollar +bill on Stuart to win.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Stuart, thirty-five to ten," droned the bookmaker +to the sheet-writer, and then Busyday found himself +beaten to the outskirts of the crowd.</p> +<p class="pnext">"You on?" he heard in his ear, and, turning, he saw +the freckle-faced one smiling up at him.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Yep—dropped ten on it," replied Busyday. "Kind +o' liked Stuart myself when I saw him entered."</p> +<p class="pnext">Then Busyday steered for the lawn to see the finish +of the race. He was trying to get some sense out of the +list of owners' colors on his program, so as to be able +to distinguish his horse as they raced under the wire, +when a calm man next to him, with a pair of field-glasses +to his eyes, mumbled:</p> +<p class="pnext">"They're off!"</p> +<p class="pnext">There was a big shout all around.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Lady Uncas out in front," said the calm man coolly. +"She'll curl up. She seems to be staying, though, at +that. Nope, she's collared. Stuart's nailed her. He +walks," and the calm man put down his glasses as the +horses galloped past the sixteenth pole.</p> +<p class="pnext">Stuart came in all alone, and Peaceful was back in the +ruck.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I had my suspicions about that Stuart horse right +along," said Busyday to himself. He had never seen +the horse's name until the evening before. "Don't know +why, but I kind o' liked him. Probably because the +Stuart were a pretty swift bunch," and he chuckled to +himself over his humor as he made his way to the bookmaker's +line to cash.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Somethin' easy—like findin' it, hey?" he heard +buzzed into his ear as soon as he put his foot into the +betting ring, and there was the old-faced young man, +grinning complaisantly up at him.</p> +<p class="pnext">Busyday handed to the shifty-eyed one, who stuck to +him right up to the paying-off line, buzzing learnedly +all the time about the race just ran, a $10 bill out of his +$35 winning.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Th' next," said the red-haired wiseacre of the rail +when Busyday had fought himself away from the cashing +crowd, "is what you might call a one-hoss race. A +one-hoss race, right."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Lambent, of course?" said Busyday, looking at his +piece of paper with the selections on it. Lambent was his +handicapper's selection.</p> +<p class="pnext">The freckle-faced screwed the whole left side of his +face up into one prodigious wink.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Not this cage," said he. "Try the next. Lambent?" +and he put one large, white, freckled hand over his face, +as if to hide his confusion, and grinned through his fingers.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, Lambent figures to win, doesn't she?" asked +Busyday weakly.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Who, Lambent?" and the shifty-eyed smiled some +more. "I'm goin' t' match her in a sweepstakes against +me old aunt, and back me aunt off th' boards fer a hog-killin'. +There's on'y one in this. Skinch. You can tap +on it."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Which one?" asked Busyday in a wabbly tone.</p> +<p class="pnext">Again the aged youth bent over until his mouth was +within a quarter of an inch of Busyday's ear.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Swiftmas," he replied. "Been saved up for a good +thing, right. If he don't buck-jump in, here's me lid," +and once more he extended his half-dollar straw hat for +Busyday's mastication.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well," said Busyday to himself between his teeth +as he made his way through the jostling crowd to one +of the bookmakers' stands, "I guess I'm a weak and +erring brother, all right, but danged if I don't play that +redhead once more, anyhow," and he got $40 for his +$20 on Swiftmas to win. Swiftmas won by a head.</p> +<p class="pnext">"They were too foxy t' win too far off," Busyday was +informed by means of a buzz in his ear, by this time well +known, as he was elbowing his way again to the cashing +line. "Boy drew it fine so's not t' spoil th' price next +time out."</p> +<p class="pnext">The freckle-faced old youth got $15 out of Busyday's +$40 winning, and then he looked Busyday over carefully +and inquired:</p> +<p class="pnext">"How about me?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"You'll do," replied Busyday, candidly. "Name the +next."</p> +<p class="pnext">"His Nibs, the Prince of Melbourne," whispered the +freckle-faced, and Busyday glanced at his handicapper's +selections. It was the Prince of Melbourne there, too.</p> +<p class="pnext">"He can't lose," said the shifty-eyed. "Just a pleasant +airing fer him. Nothin' to it. W'en you put yer +coin down, you might as well stay right here so's t' be +foist in line. Put a bunch on."</p> +<p class="pnext">"I've got some of their money," mused Busyday, +"and I won't pass it all back to 'em in a lump."</p> +<p class="pnext">He got $75 to $30 on Prince of Melbourne to win, +bought three cigars for a dollar and a pint of wine, and +then suddenly wondered where his townsman was.</p> +<p class="pnext">"No use trying to look him up, though," he reflected, +"in this jam of Indians. Poor old chap, I s'pose he's +smashed flatter'n a pancake by this time, without the price +of a bottle of pop," and he reproached himself a good +deal for not having hung on to his guest when they left +the train. He was aroused from his reflections by the +yowl, "They're off!" and by the time he got out to the +lawn the horses were coming down the stretch.</p> +<p class="pnext">"His Princelets, with his mouth wide open," he +heard the crowd yell, and then his chest expanded, and +he muttered to himself: "I always did have a soft spot +for that derned old plug!" For the moment he forgot +that the Prince of Melbourne happened to be a two-year-old.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Oh, w'en I pick up a good one as I go along I +like t' put me fren's on," buzzed the freckle-faced in +his ear, as he made for the paying-off line. Notwithstanding +the fact that the Prince of Melbourne's name appeared +on his handicapper's list of selections, Busyday +very cheerfully gave up one-third, or $25 of his winnings, +on the two-year-old to the red-haired youth. The latter +soaked the bills away in his white-and-brown-striped +trousers, and then he remarked, in an offhand sort of +way:</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, this is where you pass me up, ain'd it, so?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well," said Busyday, "I came down to play +Banastar, and I think I'll have to stay with that hunch, if +you're agreeable."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Cert'nly," said the shifty-eyed, with an expression +more of sorrow than of anger on his lined face. "Go +ahead. Help yourself. Have all th' fun that's comin' +t' you."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Why, what's the matter?" inquired Busyday. +"Ain't Banastar the play?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"And he looks like a duck with a purty good top-knot +on him, at that," said the freckle-faced, dreamily, paying +no attention to Busyday's question, and apparently +addressing empty air.</p> +<p class="pnext">"What's the matter with Banastar?" repeated Busyday.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'm not queerin' yer fun, Cap," went on the shifty-eyed. +"You come down wit' th' Banastar bug in yer +nut, like all the rest, and I'm not a-switchin' you."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Look a-here," said Busyday, "what the dickens are +you giving us, anyhow? Don't you think Banastar'll +win the Suburban?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Cap," said the aged youth, spitting dryly and for the +first time looking Busyday squarely in the eye, "there's +a mare in this bunch that'll run things around all the +Banastars from here to Hoboken an' back. She kin fall +down, an' win. She kin take naps between poles an' +walk. She's a piperino, if ever one was pushed up fer +geezers to nibble at. But I'm not a-switchin' you, un'stand?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Mare, hey?" said Busyday, looking over his program. +"You mean that Imp?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Ain't it?" said the freckle-faced. "Well, I guess +yah. She win th' last time out with' 126 up, eatin' peanuts +down th' stretch, from a bunch purty near as good +as this. Banastar? Cap, I ain't no hog, an' you've +passed along what coin was a-comin' to me. I'll lay +you 2 t' 1 Banastar won't git one, two, t'ree."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Dog-goned if I know what to do," mused Busyday. +"Here I've been shouting Banastar ever since the Handicap, +and I promised my wife faithfully that I'd play +Banastar. Say," addressing the freckle-faced, who stood +by sorrowfully regarding him, "is this Imp fast enough, +that's what I want to know? Won't Banastar beat her +on speed?"</p> +<p class="pnext">The aged youth held up one thumb vertically and indicated +with the forefinger of his other hand.</p> +<p class="pnext">"De Empire State Express," said he.</p> +<p class="pnext">Then he held up his other thumb.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Steam roller," said he. "Take yer pick."</p> +<p class="pnext">Busyday made a sudden dive for a bookmaker's line.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Which I may remark, in strict confidence," he said +to himself as he tugged at his wad and counted out five +twenty-dollar bills, "that there may be softer marks between +here and High Bridge than myself; but, confound +that freckle-faced tout's red head, I'm just a-going +to slide along with him and play Imp at that, Banastar +or no Banastar!" and ten seconds later the bookmaker +was taking Busyday's five twenties and droning out, +"Six hundred to $100 on Imp to win."</p> +<p class="pnext">Busyday was lighting the last of his three-for-fifty +cigars over in a corner of the betting ring when the well-known +buzz reached his ears again.</p> +<p class="pnext">"On?" inquired the buzz. "Good and hard?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Yep," said Busyday. "Hundred."</p> +<p class="pnext">Imp's win is turf history. As Busyday handed the +tout two crisp $100 bills the freckle-faced remarked:</p> +<p class="pnext">"An' you ain't th' on'y collect I make on this, Cap. I +got a hayseed on th' mare fer $300, an' I had him on +all th' rest o' them good things, at that."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, so long, Red," said Busyday. "I'm getting +back to town to dinner. Next time I come down I'll give +you my trade if I see you around."</p> +<p class="pnext">Then Busyday went up into the stand to take a final +look around for his townsman. He didn't see him, and +he started for the gate. Just as he got outside the gate +he saw his fellow townsman and guest stepping into a +hack. His fellow townsman and guest looked pretty +jaunty, but Busyday didn't notice it.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Hey, there, old man," he called after his friend, and +the latter looked around.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Oh, here you are," said Busyday's friend, with an +expensive cigar stuck at an angle of forty-five degrees +in one corner of his mouth. "Trimmed?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Nope," said Busyday. "I landed on a few little +good things that occurred to me after I got to looking at +the program, and I win 'bout a thousand. Poor old jay, +I suppose they put you out o' business, eh?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Not by a long sight!" said his friend. "I ran into +a freckle-faced, red-headed duck as soon as I got in the +grounds. I lost that piece o' paper you gave me with the +whadyoucallem—selections—on it, and so I played what +this red-headed chap told me to. Copped out 'bout +$2800, altogether. Had $300 on Imp to win the big +race."</p> +<p class="pnext">Then Busyday knew to whom the freckle-faced had referred +when he spoke of a hayseed.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="a-copper-lined-cinch-that-did-go-through"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id14">A "COPPER-LINED CINCH" THAT DID GO THROUGH.</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">Narrative of the Red-Haired, Freckle-Faced Tout Who Had a Good Thing up His Sleeve.</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">When the first line of betting on the fifth race at +Gravesend was chalked up shortly after 4 o'clock in the +Harlem street poolroom on Wednesday afternoon last, the +red-haired, freckle-faced tout gave one swift glance at +the figures, clutched his armful of "dope" books and sped +over to a corner of the room where two flashy, well-fed +looking chaps sat tilted back in chairs, smoking and unconcernedly +waiting for the running of a race at Latonia +in which they had a good thing.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Here's the soft spot o' your life," said the red-haired, +freckle-faced tout, pulling a chair up alongside the two +unconcerned-looking chaps. "This'll be like pullin' th' +milk teeth out o' a fox terrier's face. This is a real dill +pickle. Are you two comin' out into th' garden, Maud, or +are you goin' t' let this one get away from you."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Back t' your dray," said one of the unconcerned-looking +chaps. "Another stiff, hey? T' your dray!"</p> +<p class="pnext">The red-haired, freckle-faced tout pulled his chair closer +to them.</p> +<p class="pnext">"But this is th' hand-made, copper-coiled mash," said +he, earnestly. "It's on'y onct in a while that you get them +people that lays th' figures out o' line like they are on this +one. This is th' mellow goods. Just send a few aces along +on it, that's all. It's 100 to 1."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Now you stawp, Red!" said the other unconcerned-looking +man. "You stawp, you rude thing!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"He'll come home on th' bit," said "Red." "Lemme +show you where he's been landin', an' you can see if he's +any 100 t' 1 toss. Lemme pass you th' line, an' if you +don't take none o' it, then I'm on a cattle boat by way o' +Glasgow," and the red-haired, freckle-faced tout opened +up one of his dope books and started to show the pair of +flashy looking chaps where Rolling Boer had finished in +his previous races.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Go take a sail with yourself, Red," put in one of the +easy-looking chaps. "Nothin' doin'. Rolling Boer, hey? +Not with Fenian bonds, good when Ireland's free. Rolling +Boer, you say, Red? When did they get that one out +o' the cavalry? Rolling Boer, 'll still be jogging down the +stretch when you're in bed, Reddy. Say, it's a wonder you +don't dig up a live one 'casionally. Stop trekkin. Winter'll +be coming on soon, and you'll be nix the price of a doss. +Rolling Boer! To the woods!"</p> +<p class="pnext">The red-haired tout mopped his face with a frayed blue +polka-dotted handkerchief.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Sey, what's half a ten spot to you people?" he said in +a tone of entreaty. "The one you're waitin' f'r'll be 'bout +1 to 4 on, an' this is sunshine money, at 100 to 1. You people +know how they stan' them 1 to 4 things on their heads +out in Latonia. Say, take me spiel on this, won't you, f'r +a fi'muth? Look where he got off th' last time out, an' +where he finished! If you can't see him t' win, take th' +20 to 1 third. It'll be a shame t' spen' t' money—but take +it won't you?"</p> +<p class="pnext">The two complaisant-looking chaps turned away from +the red-haired tout and began a conversation between +themselves. The tout looked very warm, and an expression +of despair crossed his weazened features. He mopped +his face again with his blue polka-dotted handkerchief +and slunk away. He sided up to one of the board-markers +and said, out of the corner of his mouth:</p> +<p class="pnext">"Say, get an ace down on Rolling Boer f'r me, will +you? It's a skinch."</p> +<p class="pnext">The board-marker grinned.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'm all out, Red," he replied. "Pushed me last ace +up on the last whizz, an' didn't get a whistle f'r it."</p> +<p class="pnext">"This super's good f'r a deuce in any hock shop—I've +had it in f'r three," went on the red-haired tout, appealingly, +pulling out an old silver time-piece and trying to +pass it to the board-marker. "Lemme have a buck on it, +an' I'll pass you back five f'r it after th' ring's around +Rolling Boer. How's that?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'm all t' th' gruel, didn't I tell you?" replied the man +with the chalk, with some asperity. "I got a ticker o' me +own. You're puffin' secon's, Red. Rolling Boer couldn't +beat me little sister skippin' rope."</p> +<p class="pnext">The red-haired tout walked away with an expression +of deep misery on his face.</p> +<p class="pnext">"They think they are wise t' th' ponies, hey?" he muttered. +"It's bean bag they ought t' be playin'!"</p> +<p class="pnext">He dug a quarter, two dimes and a nickel out of his +change pocket and looked at the coins dismally.</p> +<p class="pnext">"It's me feed coin," he mumbled, "but maybe I can +get some piker t' go along with f'r another four bits."</p> +<p class="pnext">He walked over to a shabby-looking chap who was +slouching around with his hands in his pockets.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Say, you got a bundle on you?" the red-haired tout +inquired of the shabby-looking man.</p> +<p class="pnext">The shabby-looking man dug a fifty-cent piece out of +his left-hand waistcoat pocket.</p> +<p class="pnext">"That's all I was huntin' f'r," said the tout, displaying +his coins. "Let's put th' two pieces t'gether an' nail 'em +f'r $50 each."</p> +<p class="pnext">"On what?" inquired the shabby-looking man without +any apparent interest whatsoever.</p> +<p class="pnext">"On a pipe," said the red-haired tout. "Rolling Boer. +He'll make 'em dizzy and stroll in with his head a-swingin' +an' his tail a-swishin'. Do you come in with me f'r the +half?"</p> +<p class="pnext">The shabby-looking man put his fifty-cent piece back in +his left-hand waistcoat pocket.</p> +<p class="pnext">"You'll be fallin' out o' bed in a minute, Red," said the +shabby-looking man. "Not for me. I need the beers—ten +of 'em."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Yes, you're a sport right, I think nix," said the red-haired +tout, walking gloomily away. "You're a dead +game, with the copper on."</p> +<p class="pnext">His eagle eye caught sight of a fat man with some +three parts of a jag sitting at the "dope" table, alternately +puffing at a ravelled cigar and nodding sleepily. +This jagged man had on one side of his head a straw hat +that looked as if it had been rained on and then sat on. +The red-haired tout went over to him.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Say, your lid's on the pork all right, ain't it?" he said +amiably to the jagged man. "Been scrappin' with a cable-car?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Fade away—fade away," said the jagged man, sleepily. +"Do a disappearing stunt."</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'll tell you what I'll do with you," said the red-haired +tout, edging over confidentially to the jagged man. "I'll +pass you this cage o' mine—on'y bought it three days ago, +and coughed a two-spot f'r it—f'r that one o' yours an' +half a buck t' boot," and the red-haired tout removed the +pretty fair-looking straw hat he was wearing and pushed +it over to the jagged man. The jagged man took his ravelled +cigar from his mouth and grinned broadly.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Say," he said to the red-haired tout, "you gimme th' +tizzy-wizzy—hones' yo do. Me wear a No. 2 lid? Say, do +your fadin' stunt—fade away."</p> +<p class="pnext">The tout picked up his hat, put it on, and walked away.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Now they've hammered Rolling Boer down to 80 to +1, hey?" he said, looking up at the second line of betting. +"B'jee, I'd climb a porch t' yank out a couple t' put on +that one."</p> +<p class="pnext">He was disconsolately biting his nails and looking +around to see if there was any way out for him before the +bunch of two-year-olds at Gravesend went to the post.</p> +<p class="pnext">"They're at the pump at Gravesend!" announced the +board-marker.</p> +<p class="pnext">Just as the announcement was made, a little man with +a straw-colored mustache and a red, white and blue band +around his straw hat mounted the stairs, passed the spotter +sitting at the door with a nod, lit a fresh cigarette, and +walked up behind the red-haired tout.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Thay, Red," he said, "what'th good in thith?"</p> +<p class="pnext">The red-haired tout wheeled like a man who's been +touched on the shoulder by a deputy sheriff.</p> +<p class="pnext">"You haven't got a minute!" he said, rapidly, to the +little man with the straw-colored mustache. "It's th' baby +o' th' year! Gimme three aces—two f'r you, an' one f'r +me, an' in four minutes from date you'll be lookin' over +th' sides of a balloon, chucking off ballast made out o' +money."</p> +<p class="pnext">The lisping little man with the straw-colored mustache +smiled indulgently and pulled out a roll, from which he +stripped a five-dollar note.</p> +<p class="pnext">"That'th the thmalletht I've got, Red," he said, handing +over the note to the tout. "Thay"——</p> +<p class="pnext">He chopped off the question, however, for the tout +made two bounds for the money-taker's window.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Three on Rolling Boer, T. L. M.!" he shouted, giving +the initials of the little man with the straw-colored mustache. +"Th' other two on th' same, just plain R-e-d, Red, +and both bets straight."</p> +<p class="pnext">The man behind the desk grinned.</p> +<p class="pnext">"High-ball mazuma for the house, Red," he said, twisting +his mustache. "That one ain't got a look-in."</p> +<p class="pnext">The tout was back at the side of the little man with the +straw-colored mustache who believed in him just as the +operator sung out: "Off at Gravesend!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Thay, Red," said the tout's little man, "which one of +'em did you put thothe five"——</p> +<p class="pnext">"Rolling Boer at the quarter by a head!" sang out the +operator.</p> +<p class="pnext">"On that one!" said the red-haired tout, giving his +thigh a whack with his bundle of "dope" books. "It's a +pleasant outing for that one! He'll"——</p> +<p class="pnext">"Rolling Boer in the stretch by a nose!" called out the +operator.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Thay, he'll curl up, won't he, Red?" said the little +man at the tout's side, nervously. "Did you play him +straight or one, two, three"——</p> +<p class="pnext">"Rolling Boer wins by a nose!" shouted the operator.</p> +<p class="pnext">It was a bit too much for the red-haired tout. He didn't +have any words handy. So he slammed his "dope" books +down on a chair, pitched forward, turned a cart wheel, +and then walked around the room on his hands with his +coat hanging over his head, and a grin of indescribable +happiness all over his freckled features. The little man +with the straw-colored mustache who had believed in Red +followed the tout about the room.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Thay, what do we win, Red?" he asked. "What +prithe wath that horth?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"You yank out $240, an' mine's $160," said the red-haired +tout, getting on his feet again.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Thay, Red, you're all right," said the red-haired tout's +benefactor, pumping him by both hands.</p> +<p class="pnext">The two flashy-looking chaps who had first been tackled +by the tout on the Rolling Boer proposition now walked +up behind him with long faces.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Say, Red, why didn't you pitch that at us a little +stronger, hey?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Get t'ell away from me, you pikers!" was the red-haired +tout's reply.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="he-coppered-his-wife-s-hunches"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id15">HE "COPPERED" HIS WIFE'S "HUNCHES."</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">Wherein It Is Shown That the Feminine Intuition Is Liable to Occasionally Slip a Cog.</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">"Yes, siree," said the man with the ravelled cigar and +the granulated eyelids who swung precariously from a +strap in a car of a returning Sheepshead Bay train the +other evening, "it certainly is funny about these here +hunches that women have, ain't it?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"No," said the two seated men he was addressing.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Certainly is queer what freaky ideas they get into +their heads," went on the man with the ravelled cigar, ignoring +the lack of encouragement extended to him. "And +when it comes to picking out good things on a race-track, +picking 'em out just on hunch, ain't they wonders, hey?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Nope," said the two men at whom he was directing +his conversation.</p> +<p class="pnext">"It sure beats the Painted Post Silver Cornet Band +how they can stick a pin in a program with their eyes +shut and light on a 100 to 1 shot that wins a-blinking," +continued the man with the granulated eyelids, tearing +two or three superfluous wrappers off his ravelled cigar. +"Their system beats the dope and the handicapping all to +shucks, don't it?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Nix," replied the two men in the seat.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Never had such chance to size up the feminine hunch +as I did out at Morris Park 'bout six or seven years ago," +went on the man with the eccentric cigar. "Told my wife +one night during the fall meeting at the park that I was +going to the races the next day, that a shoe clerk I knew +had told me about a good thing that was going to happen—he'd +got it from a trainer to whom he'd sold a pair of +shoes—and I was going after some of it.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Theophilus Nextdoor,' says she to me, 'how dare +you deliberately tell me that you are going to gamble your +money away, when I haven't a rag to my back and the +coal not yet put in!'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Can't help it, Clarissa,' says I, 'I've just naturally +got to invest $50 on this good thing. I know it ain't right, +but I've got to do it, anyhow.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Then she let out on me, and we both got mad. I +tried to square it up with her the next morning, and at +the breakfast table I read her the names of the horses +that were going to run in the race in which I had the +good thing the shoe clerk had given me. When I came +to the name of a horse called Jodan, she dropped her +coffee cup with a clatter and stared at me.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Jodan,' said she. Isn't that short for Joseph +Daniel?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Yes'm, I guess so,' I said, not knowing whether it +was or not, but anxious to stroke her the right way.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Is that the horse you are going to invest your money +on?' she asked me, breathlessly.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'No, it's another one,' said I.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well, you might just as well stay home, then,' +said she, positively. 'You'll lose your money. Jodan +will win. I dreamt all night last night of my Uncle Joseph +Daniel McGeachy, who was lost at sea when I was a +little bit of a thing, and if Jodan is short for Joseph +Daniel, as it must be, then Jodan will win.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'But that's plain superstition, and races ain't won +that way,' I said to her.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I don't care one bit, so I don't,' she said to me. +'You will simply be throwing your money away, and I +need so many things, if you invest it on any other horse +than Jodan.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"I tried to argue with her, but it was no go. She told +me that her lost Uncle Joseph Daniel McGeachy had +once won a full-rigged ship race from Shanghai to Boston, +and was a pretty speedy old cuss in more ways than +one, and that any horse named after her Uncle Joseph +Daniel McGeachy couldn't lose. I told her that, while +I didn't know anything about this Jodan horse, I didn't +think he could beat the good thing my shoe-clerk friend +had given me, but she wouldn't listen to me. The last +thing she said to me before I left the house was:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'If you are determined to be a horrid, vulgar, disgraceful +gambler, you play Jodan. You'll be sorry if +you don't.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Stubborn, when they get an idea into their heads, +women, ain't they?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"No," said the two men in the seat near the strap-clutching +man with the ravelled cigar.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, by jing, I got to thinking about my wife's +queer hunch on that Jodan horse on my way out to the +track, and the more I thought about it the weaker I became +on that good thing my shoe-clerk friend had given +me.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Women have got something away ahead of sense or +reason,' says I to myself on the train on the way out, +'and I sure would feel almighty cheap and no-account +if my wife happened to be right about her Uncle Joseph +Daniel McGeachy and this Jodan horse. I sure would. +I've got a good mind to put a little money on that Jodan +horse anyhow, derned if I haven't.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"I was still undecided about it when I got out to the +track. That's the edge the bookmakers have got, ain't +it—the people that have real good things and then wabble +when it comes to sticking to them?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Nope," said the two men in the seat.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, sir, when the prices were marked up for that +race in which I had the good thing, blamed if Jodan +wasn't chalked up at 100 to 1. My good thing horse +was the second choice at 5 to 1. I stood there looking +at the prices, getting pulled around and butted into, +and I had the dingedest time making up my mind what +I was going to do that you ever heard of in your life.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'If my wife's hunch is right,' I thought, 'and that +Jodan horse wins at 100 to 1 without my playing him, +I'll never hear the last of it as long's I'm on top of the +ground. She'll be telling me morning, noon and night, +that she gave me a chance to win $5000, and that I +didn't have enough gumption to take it. And if the +good thing my shoe-clerk friend gave me wins at 5 to 1, +I'll be sore on myself for throwing away a chance to +pick up $250 if I don't play it.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"I walked out onto the lawn so's I could have more +room to make up my mind. Then I wheeled around suddenly +and dived into the betting ring.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'By cracky!' says I to myself, 'I'm doing this little +gamble myself, and, feminine hunch or no hunch, I'm +going to play that good thing my shoe-clerk friend gave +me, and nothing else.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"So I went to the first bookmaker I saw and got a +$250 to $50 ticket on my good thing."</p> +<p class="pnext">Here the man with the granulated lids sighed heavily +and looked genuinely distressed.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Say, it's the dickens, ain't it," he said, after a pause, +"how these things happen?"</p> +<p class="pnext">The two men in the seat to whom he had been +addressing his conversation exhibited a certain suppressed +interest as to the outcome.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Of course Jodan just walked in that day, at 100 to +1?" said one of them finally, with a grin that clearly indicated +his belief that he had the result discounted.</p> +<p class="pnext">The man with a ravelled cigar struck a match and lit +the same for the eighteenth time.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Not on your zinc wedding did Jodan walk in!" he +said, puffing away without removing his eyes from the +match. "My good thing spread-eagled 'em from the +jump, and won, pulled up, by eight lengths. Jodan was +last. It sure is odd about these feminine hunches, ain't +it?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Blamed if it ain't," said one of the men in the seat.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I carried a twelve-pound lobster home to my wife +that night and told her it was a fair replica of her Uncle +Joseph Daniel McGeachy horse, and she told me that she +just wouldn't believe that Jodan hadn't won until she +saw the paper the next morning, so there now! She +caved, though, when I uncovered the $250 and told her +that she couldn't get that cerise-silk-lined tailor-made +dress quick enough to suit me, and she said that she +might have known that no horse named after her Uncle +Joseph Daniel McGeachy, who didn't have any more +luck than to go and get himself lost at sea, could win anything.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, a month or so after that I went down to Washington +on a little matter of business, and took my wife +along with me. There was horse racing going on near +Washington then, at a track called St. Asaph, across the +Potomac in Virginia.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Clarissa,' said I to my wife one morning, after I'd +got all through with my business in Washington and was +ready to come back to New York, 'I think we'd better +stay over to-day and go to the races at St. Asaph. A man +that I met in the shooting gallery down the street gave +me a good thing last night, and I think I ought to see +to it. It's going to come off to-day.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Of course she told me again that I was going to +rack and ruin, and never would make anything of myself, +but I told her that I just naturally had to go over to +St. Asaph that day and play Jodan.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Jodan!' she almost screamed at me. 'Theophilus +Nextdoor, how can you have the hardihood to stand there +and tell me that you are going to waste your money on +that horrid beast, when both of us are absolutely in need +of new fall outfits?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"I told her that I'd see to the fall outfits, but that +I sure couldn't get away from that Jodan good thing.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Why,' I said, don't you remember how wild you +were about this same Jodan horse only a little more than +a month ago?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I just don't care one bit if I was,' she replied. 'I +know and you know that any horse named after my Uncle +Joseph Daniel McGeachy, who didn't have any more luck +than to go and get himself lost at sea, cannot win, and I +should think you would be ashamed of yourself to stand +there and tell me to my face,' etc., etc.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, she wouldn't go along with me to the track +over at St. Asaph across the Potomac, and so I went +alone. The man I had met in the shooting gallery had +told me so earnestly about this Jodan horse that I couldn't +fail to be impressed by his words, and when I found +that my wife was so opposed to Jodan's chances was +more than ever determined to play him, for I'd learned +something about the nature of the feminine hunch, don't +you see?</p> +<p class="pnext">"It like to've carried me off my feet when I saw the +price on the blackboards against Jodan. Jodan was +quoted at 150 to 1. The favorite was at 3 to 5 on, and all +of 'em, the whole fourteen in the race, were at shorter +prices than Jodan. I clutched the $50 that I had intended +playing on Jodan, thinking that he'd be about +10 to 1 or something like that, and I just thought and +thought and thought over the thing.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'By jimminy!' said I finally, after standing over +in a corner alone for a while, thinking, 'my wife may +be right about Jodan, and all that, but I came over here +to play Jodan, and I'm going to play him or just bust, +win or lose!'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Then I went over to a bookmaker, got a $1500 to +$10 ticket on Jodan to win. 'Take that hay out of your +hair, pal,' the bookmaker said to me when I passed my +money over—and went up to the stand to see the race, +thinking all the time what a serious matter it is to take +a chance on playing against the feminine hunch.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Jodan, after being practically left at the post, came out +of the clouds in the stretch, and won the derned old race +on the wire by a nose from the favorite, and when I +hired a rig and packed those $1500 over to my wife the +way she warmed up to her one and only Theophilus was +sure a caution.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The feminine hunch," concluded the man with the +ravelled cigar and the granulated eyelids, "is all right +when you copper it, but it won't do to play it open. Am +I right?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"No," said the two men in the seat, and then the rush +to get off the train began.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="a-race-horse-that-paid-a-church-debt"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id16">A RACE HORSE THAT PAID A CHURCH DEBT.</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">He Was Thought to Be a No-Account Cripple, but He Proved Himself to Be "All Horse" When Called Upon.</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">"A friend of mine who came here from Chicago for +the Bennings meeting was telling me about that Jim +McCleevy mule," said an old-time owner of thoroughbreds +who is wintering a string of jumpers and breaking +a bunch of yearlings out at the Bennings track. "That +makes a queer story, and there are some strange things +connected with the thoroughbred game, at that. This +McCleevy horse wasn't worth a bag of moist peanuts at +the beginning of the present racing season. He couldn't +beat a fat man. He had never been in the money. He +was a legitimate thousand-to-one shot in any company. +He was the candidate for the shafts of a brick cart, when +by some odd chance he passed into the possession of a +nice young woman who was going to school somewhere +in the State of Iowa. The girl's uncle was mixed up +some way or another with the turf, and he bought the +McCleevy plug for a joke, paying a few dollars for +him. In a spirit of fun he wrote to his niece that he +had bought Jim McCleevy in her name, and that the +horse belonged to her and would be run in her interest. +The young woman didn't know the difference between +a race-horse and a chatelaine bag. She was an orphan, +and struggling to get an education for herself. Her +ambition was to take a course at a woman's college, but, +up to the time of this incident, which lasted throughout +the spring and summer, her hope of putting this ambition +over the plate was pretty shadowy, and it looked +like it was up to her to get a job teaching a country +school in order to support herself. But she wrote to +her uncle that she accepted the gift of the no-account +racer with gratitude, and inquired if the horse could +not trot right fast, for, if so, she might be able to dispose +of him to some well-to-do farmer in her neighborhood.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Jim McCleevy was attached to the string of a good +trainer, who saw at once that the horse had been underestimated, +that he had been badly handled, and that it +would be worth the effort to try to make something of +him. He spent two or three weeks monkeying with the +skate and fixing him up, and then he sent him out one +morning with a lummux of a stable boy on his back and +put the watch on him. Jim McCleevy breezed a mile in +1:44, fighting for his head at the finish, and two days +later he was slapped into a selling race at a mile and a sixteenth, +with light weight, a bum apprentice lad up, and +all kinds of a price, for there were some good ones in +the race, which was at the Harlem track, in Chicago. +The girl's uncle scattered a few dollars around the ring +on the mutt, all three ways, and McCleevy came home +on the bit. That was the beginning of McCleevy. He +was put into a couple of races a week at a mile and +more, at the Harlem and Hawthorne tracks, during the +entire racing season at Chicago, and he won race after +race, no matter how they piled the weight penalties up +on him. When he didn't win he broke into the money, +and as there was always a good price on him, seeing that +almost every time he raced he was pitted against horses +that seemed to outclass him, the uncle of the girl who +owned him got some of the money every time. He +parleyed the money that he won for his niece on Jim +McCleevy's first race, and he got it back and a bunch +besides every time. The fame of Jim McCleevy spread +around Chicago, and a Chicago newspaper man went +down to Iowa to interview the young woman who owned +the horse. She told him, artlessly, that while she abhorred +gambling—well, she certainly did enjoy the prospect +of being enabled to complete her education. Her +uncle deposited between $8000 and $9000 in her name, +the amount he had won for her in purses and bets on +Jim McCleevy, at the wind-up of the racing season, and +the horse, which developed quite a bit of real class, still +belongs to her.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Odd, isn't it, that an underestimated race-horse should +hop out and not only give a nice girl that had never so +much as has stroked his sleek neck a chance to fulfil her +ambition for an education, but win her a start in life that'll +probably make her one of the eligible girls in the State of +Iowa? But I recall a queerer one than that—how a cast-off +crab suddenly developed into a race-horse and paid off +a mortgage on a church.</p> +<p class="pnext">"That happened out at Latonia four years ago. I was +racing a few of my own out there at the time, and saw the +affair from the beginning to the wind-up. I'll have to duck +giving the names, for the good man who profited by the +sudden development of the nag he accidentally became +possessed of is still the pastor of a flock that congregates +in a pretty little debt-free, brick and stone Roman Catholic +church on the outskirts of Cincinnati.</p> +<p class="pnext">"There was an old trainer hanging around the Latonia +barns at that time who was in hard luck from a whole +lot of different points of view. I'd known him on the metropolitan +tracks years before, and he had been, in his day +of prosperity, a good fellow and a horse-wise man, if ever +one chewed a straw. When his health went back on him, +however, six or seven years ago, and he couldn't personally +attend to his work—he ran an open training stable—it +was all off with him. The strings that he had been +handling were taken away from him by the owners and +put in other hands, and he went up against the day of adversity +with a rattle. He had a few horses of his own, but +these proved worthless, and most of them were finally +taken away from him to pay feed bills. On top of it all he +developed locomotor ataxia, and when I got out to the Latonia +barns, four years ago, he could barely move around. +How he contrived to exist I don't know, but I guess the +boys chipped in a dollar or so every once in a while for +the old man. The only horse that he had left when I +reached Latonia with my little bunch was an old six-year-old +gelding that was a joke. Well, call him Caspar. The +mention of Caspar's name made even the stable-boy grin. +Caspar looked a good deal like Diggs, that camel horse +that's pulling down the purses now in New Orleans. He +was all out of shape, with a pair of knees on him each as +big as your hat; of all the bunged up, soured, chalky old +skates that ever I looked over, this Caspar gelding was the +limit. Yet he had been a pretty good two-year-old and a +more than fair three-year-old. He had won four races as +a two-year-old, and six as a three-year-old, but he was +campaigned and drummed a heap, and when the old man +shot him as a four-year-old Caspar could just walk, and +that's all. He was a cripple from every point of the compass. +He was chronically sour and sore, and he was as +vicious and ugly as the devil, into the bargain. He never +got anywhere near the money as a four and five-year-old, +and he hadn't been raced at all as a six-year-old, when I +first clapped an eye on his rheumatic old shape. But the +old man was a sentimentalist in his way, and he couldn't +stand the idea of selling a horse that he had taken care +of as a baby to some truck driver to be overworked and +abused. So he hung on to Caspar, fed him, nursed him +and took care of him generally, just as if the old plug was +making good for all of this attention. Caspar was a standing +gag around the Latonia stables.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Wait'll I joggle Caspar under the string by four +lengths in the Kentucky Derby!' a monkey-faced apprentice +jockey would say solemnly to the other kids, and +then they'd all holler.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, about a month after I struck Latonia—it was +then getting on toward midsummer—the old trainer in +hard luck who owned Caspar took to his bunk, not to get +up any more. He only lasted two weeks. Two days before +he died he sent for an old Irish priest that he had +known for a number of years. The priest was the pastor +of that little brick and stone church on the outskirts of +Cincinnati that I spoke about. The old trainer had been a +good Catholic all his life, and he received the last offices +of his faith. Then he said to the priest:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Father, there's a crabbed, battered-up old dog of +mine over at Latonia that I'll make you a present of. He's +worth about one dollar and eighty cents, but he was a +good racing tool when he was young, and I've never felt +like turning him loose to hustle for himself. He's crippled +up some, but you might get him broken to harness, so that +he could haul your buggy around. I wish you'd take him +and see that he doesn't get the worst of it. Caspar was +pretty good to me a few times when I was up against it.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"When the old man turns up his toes and dies the +kindly priest came over to the barns to see if he could get +any assistance in the way of putting our old hard-luck pal +under the ground. He got it, of course, and enough for a +tombstone besides. While he was at the stables the father +thought he might as well have a look at the piece of horse-flesh +that had been presented to him by the old man. So +one of the trainers escorted him to Caspar's stall.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Could he ever be made any good for driving purposes?' +the priest asked the trainer, who smiled.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'He'd kick a piano-mover's truck into matchwood the +first clatter out of the box,' replied the trainer.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I'll just let him stay over here for awhile until I decide +what to do with him,' said the priest, and he went +back to Cincinnati and buried the old trainer.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, a couple of mornings later a fresh stable-boy +who had just got a job in one of the barns put a bridle +and saddle on old Caspar and took him for a breeze +around the course just for fun. It was just at dawn, and +a lot of us trainers were watching the early morning work +of the horses. It struck me when Caspar passed by the +rail where I was standing that the old devil looked mighty +skittish, and was doing a lot of prancing for a hammered-to-death +skate, with bum knees and all sorts of other complaints. +About a minute later there was a yawp all along +the rail.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Get next to that old Caspar!' a lot of the trainers +shouted. I looked over toward the back-stretch, and there +was the old skate with his head down, eating up the +ground like a race-horse. We all jerked out our watches +just as he flashed by the five-furlong pole and put them +on him. It was amazing to see the old mutt make the turn +and come a-tearing down the stretch. If he didn't do that +five furlongs in 1:02, darn me. All of our watches told +the same story, and there was no mistake about it. When +he passed the judges' stand Caspar wanted to go right +ahead and work himself out, but we all hollered at the boy +to pull him up. The kid stopped the old gelding with +difficulty. Caspar wanted to run, and he had a mouth on him +as hard as nails.</p> +<p class="pnext">"We got together and talked about Caspar. We were +dumbfounded, and didn't know what to make of that exhibition +of speed. Then a trainer who was, and still is, +noted throughout the country as the most skilful horse-patcher +that ever got into the game spoke up.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'The old devil's just come back to himself, that's all +there is about it,' he said. 'There are a lot of sprints in his +old carcass yet. All he needs is some patching. If he'll +run like this work he's just done in five-furlong dashes, +there's a chance for a slaughter with him. I'm going to +ask the father to let me handle him and see if he can't be +oiled up.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"The trainer went over to Cincinnati that same morning +and saw the priest.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Father,' said he, 'I don't want to get a man of your +cloth mixed up with the racing game, but I think I can +do something with that old racing tool, the old man bequeathed +to you.' Then he told the priest about Caspar's +phenomenal work that morning.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Bless me!' said the good man, 'I fear it would not +be seemly for me to'——</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Oh, that end of it'll be all right, father,' said the +trainer. 'If I find I can do anything with the old rogue +I'll shoot him into a dash under my own colors, and you +won't be entangled with the thing a little bit. It won't +cost you anything to let me try him out, and if I find that +he'll do I'll get my end of it by putting down—er—uh—well. +I won't lose anything anyhow.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, when he left the kindly man of the cloth he had +the permission to see what could be done with old Caspar. +"'Let me know how you progress,' the priest had asked +him.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The trainer seeing a chance to make a killing—and +we all vowed ourselves to secrecy about the matter—went +to old Caspar. He was a nag-patcher, as I say, from the +foot-hills, and the way he applied himself to the reduction +of Caspar's inflammations, and to the tonicking up in general +of the old beast, was a caution to grasshoppers. And +it came about that early morning's work of Caspar's +that had surprised us so was no flash in the pan at all. The +old 'possum had somehow or another recovered his speed +all of a sudden, in addition to a willingness to run, in spite +of his infirmities. At the end of two weeks Caspar, as +fine a bit of patched-work as you ever saw, was ready. The +trainer went over to Cincinnati and told the father so.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well,' inquired the priest.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'He's going to run in a five-furlong dash day after +to-morrow,' said the trainer. 'And he'll walk. It is a copper-riveted +cinch—er-uh—I mean, that is, Caspar will +win, you see. It'll be write your own ticket, too. Any +price. In fact when the gang sees his name among the +entries, they'll think it's a joke.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'My son,' said the father, with a certain twinkle lurking +in the corner of his eye, 'gaming is a demoralizing +passion. Nevertheless, if this animal, that came into my +possession by such odd chance, possesses sufficient speed +to—er'——</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Oh, that's all right, father,' said the trainer and he +bolted for it.</p> +<p class="pnext">"As the trainer had said to the priest, there was an +all-around chuckle the following afternoon when the entry +sheets were distributed and it was seen that Caspar +was in the five-furlong dash the next day. For a wonder, +not a word had got out about the patching job that had +been in progress on the old horse, nor about his remarkable +work. The stable lads and railbirds who were on kept +their heads closed and saved their nickels for the day of +Caspar's victory.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, to curl this up some, the field that we confidently +expected Caspar to beat was made up of nine rattling +good sprinters—one of them was so good that his +price opened and closed at 4 to 5 on. Caspar was the rank +outsider at 150 to 1. We all got on at that figure, the +bookies giving us the laugh at first, and only a few of +them wise enough to rub when they suspected that there +was something doing. The trainers', railbirds', and stable-boys' +money that went in forced the old skate's price down +to 75 to 1 at post time. A number of us took small chunks +of 100 to 1 in the poolrooms in Cincinnati—wired our +commissions over. The old horse favored his left forefoot +a trifle in walking around to the starting pole, and that +worried us a bit, for he'd been all right on his pin the +night before. We didn't do any hedging, however, but +stood by to see what was going to happen. All of us, of +course, had enough down on him to finish third to pull us +out in case he couldn't get the big end of the money.</p> +<p class="pnext">"It was a romp for Caspar. If I'd tell you the real +name of the horse you'd remember the race well. Caspar, +with a perfect incompetent of a jockey on his back, jumped +off in the lead, and was never headed, winning, pulled +double and to a walk, by three lengths. The bookies made +all colors of a howl over it, but their howls didn't go. +They had to cough. It was the biggest killing that bunch +of Latonia trainers, including myself, had ever made, and +there wasn't a stable boy on the grounds that didn't have +money to cremate for months afterward.</p> +<p class="pnext">"After the race the trainer who had patched old Caspar +up for the hogslaughtering—he was close on to $15,000 +to the good, and he didn't have me skinned any, at that—hustled +over to the priest's house.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Father, the plug made monkeys of 'em,' is the way +he announced Caspar's victory.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Truly?' said the priest.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Monkeys,' repeated the trainer, and then he pulled +out a huge new wallet that he had bought on the way to +the priest's residence. He handed the wallet to the father. +'When I was here, a couple o' days ago,' said the trainer, +looking interestedly out of the window, 'I had along with +me a fifty-dollar bill that, feeling pretty prosperous that +morning, I intended to hand to you to be distributed +among the poor of the parish—used to be an acolyte and +serve mass myself, a good many years ago, when I +was a kid. Well, I forgot to pass you the fifty, you see, +and so I invested it in—er-uh—a little matter of speculation, +to your account, so that it amounts to—er-uh—well, +I understood there's a bit of a mortgage on your church, +you know."</p> +<p class="pnext">"The priest opened the wallet and counted out seven +one thousands, one five hundred and one fifty-dollar bill. +The trainer had put the $50 down on Caspar for the priest—without +the father's sanction or countenance, of course—at +150 to 1.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well,' went on the trainer, anxious to talk so as to +save any questions as to the nature of his speculation, 'it +certainly would have done your heart good if you could +have seen that old nag cantering down the stretch'——</p> +<p class="pnext">"'It did,' said the father, with a smile. 'It is no sin, +I conceive, for even a man of my cloth to watch noble +beasts battling for the supremacy, there being, I take it, +nothing cruel in such contests. I saw the race.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Old Caspar was wound up by that race. He went to +the paddock as sore as a boil, all of his old infirmities +breaking out with renewed strength, and he was turned +out to grass and died comfortably two years ago. If he +could have known, it might have cheered his declining +days to realize that he had paid off the mortgage on a nice +little brick and stone edifice of worship on the outskirts of +Cincinnati."</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="a-seedy-sport-s-string-of-horses"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id17">A SEEDY SPORT'S STRING OF HORSES.</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">How the Incredulity of a Lot of Bookmakers Was Turned Into Gasping Astonishment.</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">A mixed party of turf followers in Washington for +the Bennings meeting, and Washington men about town, +had a café talk the other night about some things that +have happened in former years on running tracks, legitimate +and outlaw, in this neighborhood.</p> +<p class="pnext">"When the outlaw track over at Alexander Island, +across the Potomac, was running a few years back," said +a New York player, "I came down here from the wind-up +meeting in New York one fall to see if there was anything +in the game in these parts. Then, as now, I was +playing, and not laying. So this Alexander Island happening +that I'm going to tell you about didn't bother +me any, bad as it knocked a lot of the books.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I got here before the Alexander meeting began. A +couple of days before the game was to be on, while I was +in the Pennsylvania avenue refreshment headquarters of +the boys who came here from New York and other tracks +to write the tickets, a seedy-looking chap, who looked as +if the elements had conspired to make him smoke a bum +pipe in the game of life for a long time previously, walked +in and edged around to the back room where the bookies +were figuring on the amount of fresh money they were +about to begin taking out of the national capital. The +tough-looking man had a horsey look and a horsey smell +about him, and as soon as I saw him I knew that he followed +'em in some kind of a hanger-on capacity. He +walked over to a table where a number of the bookmakers +were seated.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Say,' said he, leaning his hands on the table and +addressing the party in general, 'you people are sports, +ain't you?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"The looks the bookies gave the shabby-looking man +were intended to convey to him the idea that they weren't +publicly posing as hot tamales, anyhow. The man got +no reply.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'You're going to make books across the way, ain't +you?' the up-against-it-looking chap asked, with an inquiring +look all around.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well, what if we are?' asked one of the bookies, +just for the good-natured sake of breaking the silence.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well,' said the down-at-the-heel sport, 'I've got a +couple o' nags that have been running for the past six +weeks over at the Maryland outlaw. They haven't been +one, two, six in any race over there, and I've gone broke +paying entrance fees for 'em. Maybe they'll be able to +do better over across the way at Alexander. I want to +chuck 'em in a couple over there, anyhow, for luck. But +I owe $30 feed bill to the Maryland outlaw people, and +I can't get my plugs away from there until the thirty's +paid. Now, you people are sports, and so'm I. What I +want to know is, will you people cough up the thirty +for me as a loan, so's I can get that pair o' mine down +here?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"The bookies listened to the man with gradually increasing +smiles, and when he finished they gave him the +laugh in chorus.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Stop your kidding,' said one of them. 'I can get +all the outlaw racehorses I want for $2 a head.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"They all chipped in with a crack at the doleful-looking +sport, who appeared to be rather a guileless sort of +chap for a man with a short stable of racers.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'They're a good pair, all right, and one of 'em's on +edge, too,' he persisted. 'He worked six furlongs in +1:21 flat a couple of days ago.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"The bookies all looked at the man as if he were demented.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'One twenty-one flat for a six-furlong route!' exclaimed +one of them. 'Why, look here, my friend, you're +not smoking hard enough to suppose you can win down +here with a skate that does well when he works six furlongs +in that time, are you? Don't you know that there's +a whole bunch over there now that can go that route in +1:16 or better?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well, they've got a chance, anyhow,' said the shabby +man. 'Do I get the $30 to get 'em out o' hock?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"The bookies all turned their faces the other way, +then, and when the man with the pair of hocked nags +saw that it wasn't any use he dug his hands into his +pockets disconsolately and shambled out.</p> +<p class="pnext">"On the day that the meeting opened I saw the shabby +man in the betting ring. I was behind him when he +handed one of the bookies a $5 bet on one of the horses +entered in the second race of the day. The bookmaker +had belonged to the party that gave the laugh to the +shabby man when he asked for the $30.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Playing 'em, eh' said the bookie, smiling at the +run-down-looking man. 'Couldn't get your pair away +from the Maryland outlaw, I suppose.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Yes, I dug up and got 'em out,' said the man. +'They're here now. The one you just gave me a ticket +on at $100 to $5 belongs to me.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Oh, is that so?' asked the bookmaker. 'Well, I +hope you win. But you've got a couple of 3 to 5 shots +to beat, you know.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I got a chance,' was all the man said, walking +away.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I took a look at his horse, the rank outsider in the +race, when he went to the post with the others. He was +a six-year-old gelding, and he looked rank and broken +down. A boy that the shabby man had brought along +from the Maryland outlaw was on the horse. It was a +mile race, and the horse was twelfth in a field of twelve. +I saw the gloomy-looking, shabby man in the paddock +after the race superintending the rubbing down of his +nag. He seemed to be a whole lot in the dumps.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The same horse was entered in the fourth race on +the next day's card. It was a field of crack outlaw performers, +and his horse was again the extreme outsider +at 40 to 1. I saw the shabby man walk around putting +down $2 bets here and there on his plug, and I felt +sorry for him. The bookies simply smiled commiseratingly +at him. The hard-looking man's horse finished +ninth in a field of nine.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Why don't you cut it out?' asked one of the bookmakers +of the man with the tough appearance. 'You're +wasting your stake.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I got a chance,' was the reply.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The man got out his other horse on the following +day. He got 50 to 1 on him for the six-furlong race, and +his plug, another rank and no-account looker, finished +last. This was the horse that could work six furlongs +in 1:21. The seedy man's confidence in his pair of skates +seemed rather pathetic to me.</p> +<p class="pnext">"After each of his horses had been in about half a +dozen races each, always finishing last, the both of them, +and the seedy man putting twos and fives down on them +right along until the bookies felt like not taking his +money, I thought he'd take a tumble and quit the game. +But on the eleventh day of the meeting his 'mile racer,' +the six-year-old gelding, was entered again. He went +to the post with a field composed of the cracks among +the outlaws. I happened to be close to the seedy man +when he went around according to his custom, putting +down small bets on his horse. He seemed to be rather +better fixed than usual that day, for he had quite a +bundle of fives with him.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'What do I get on my horse?' he asked the first +bookie he struck.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The layer grinned, for he knew there were eight or +ten good ones in the race, three or four of them quoted +around even money.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I've got 75 to 1 hung up about him, and all you +want of it,' said the bookie. 'You can write your own +ticket, in fact.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Hundred to 1?' asked the seedy man.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Why, sure,' replied the bookmaker. And he took +$5 of the 'owner's' money at 100 to 1. Just out of curiosity +I followed the seedy man in his tour of the books +and I saw him put down $70 in $5 bets on his horse to +win at 100 to 1. It struck me then that there was +to be something done on the seedy man's horse. But +I wasn't capping the bookies' game, and I've got +a fad for minding my own business, anyhow, and +so I kept off the race and went into the stand to watch +it. I had a hunch to play the seedy man's horse for a +good wad, but I reflected that if I got on and the good +thing went through the bookies 'ud be suspicious about +such a well-known player as I was being in on it, and +in the investigation the seedy man might be cut out, and +I didn't want to knock him. But I surely was a whole +lot interested in the way that race was to come out.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I took a good look at the seedy man's horse as they +filed past the stand to the post. He looked much better +and pretty nippy at that for such a rancid outsider. +The same boy that had ridden the horse in his first race +at Alexander Island and landed him nowhere was up. +It was a mile race.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The favorite, a horse called Walcott—4 to 5 on in +the betting—got off on the right foot with a jump and +started to tiptoe the field. At the quarter he led by three +lengths, with the second choice, a good outlaw named +Halcyon, beginning to set sail for him. The rest of the +field of thirteen were all strung out, the seedy man's +horse 'way in the ruck. But I kept my glasses on that +horse all the way, and I could see that at the half he was +under the devil's own pull. The boy had half a dozen +wraps on him and I felt then, even if the favorite was +still a good four lengths in the lead, and going easily, +that there was but one horse in the race, and that horse +the seedy man's. It was a watermelon just opening, but +I suppose I was the only man at the track that happened +to have got next to the game. The judges didn't observe, +of course, that the seedy owner's horse was under +twenty wraps, for they looked upon him as a dead one +and paid no attention to his running.</p> +<p class="pnext">"At the far turn Walcott, the favorite, was still three +or four lengths in front, Halcyon, the No. 2 choice, having +fallen back, beaten out. They were all in a bunch +behind the leader, and all going mighty well at the +head of the stretch. All the time I had my glass focused +on the horse belonging to the shabby man. Walcott +seemed to be just galloping, as I say, at the head of the +stretch, when I saw the jockey suddenly sit down on +the shabby man's horse and start to ride a-horseback. It +was pretty, I tell you, to see that old six-year-old hop +out after the galloping favorite and chase him down the +stretch. The old horse, without a bit of whipping or +spurring—the boy had simply given him his head—pumped +up like an express engine, and the favorite was +taken out of his gallop and extended, under whip and +spur, before they were half way down the stretch. Passing +the stand, Walcott and the seedy man's horse were +nose and nose, the latter gaining at every jump. Walcott +was beaten a head on the wire by the rank outsider in a +pretty finish.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The stewards had the seedy man in the stand immediately +and then called the boy up. It was an astonishing +reversal of form, and action seemed to be called for. +The seedy man's story was straight, however. He had +given his horse a half pint of whisky before the race and +he supposed that was responsible for the win. Doping +horses was all right at Alexander, and so the stewards +couldn't kick about that. The stewards touched upon +the ringer question, but the seedy man was such a simple +kind of duck, and his story was so connected about +past owners of his two horses and their life-long careers +on the outlaw tracks, that the stewards finally declared +the race all hunk and the bets stood.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I saw the shabby man cash his $70 worth of +100 to 1 tickets. He didn't gloat any over the bookies +who had grinned in his teeth before the race—just collected +his money quietly, saying: 'Well, I had a chance, +didn't I?' The bookies were confident that the seedy +man had a mighty valuable pair of ringers on his staff, +and that one of them had just won the mile race in the +beautiful, finely-drawn nose finish, but they couldn't +welch on their bets. With his $7000 the seedy man took +his string of two away the next day.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I ran across him last summer at the St. Louis Fair +Grounds' racing. He was no longer a seedy man. He +was covered with gig lamps, and he had it in every +pocket. Said I to him:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'D'ye remember that neat 100 to I thing you pulled +off in Washington a few years ago? There was some +quality in that old outlaw of yours that got the money.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"He looked at me with a broad grin.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Outlaw be damned,' said he. 'That horse was one +of the cracks out of the West, on licensed tracks. He +was a bit of paint. He had done a mile in 1:39-1/2 twice—round +miles—and he was as game as a wild turkey +egg. Me and my pardner pulled down $20,000 or so, +running him as a ringer all over the country. I was +going to open my six-furlonger in Washington that time, +but $7000 was enough. My six-furlonger was a crack +from Frisco. He was dyed, too. Six furlongs in 1:14 +was a common canter for him. The Willie Wises back +in the East are not so many at that, are they?'"</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="this-telegram-was-signed-just-bub"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id18">THIS TELEGRAM WAS SIGNED JUST "BUB."</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">It Referred to Nothing Calculated to Disturb Domesticity, but It Came Near Wrecking a Happy Home.</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">When the senior partner of a young two-handed firm +of patent attorneys reached the firm's office in West +Broadway on Monday morning last his eye caught sight +of a telegram addressed to his junior partner on the latter's +desk. As the junior partner was in Washington +and wasn't due back in New York until 4 or 5 o'clock in +the afternoon, the senior partner opened the telegram. +It was a night message from St. Louis, and it read as +follows:</p> +<p class="pnext">"Hammer Jim Conway. Punch him your limit. Don't +let anything scare you out. He's easy. Bub."</p> +<p class="pnext">The senior partner scratched his head over this.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Conway—Jim Conway," he muttered to himself. +"Now, who the dickens can Jim Conway be, I'd like to +know? We've got no client named Jim Conway, and +we're not fighting any infringement case in which a Mr. +Conway is the defendant. Darned funny telegram, this +is."</p> +<p class="pnext">The senior partner turned the message upside down +and every which way, but the longer he looked at it +from various points of view the more puzzled he became.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Mighty belligerent sort of an affair, too," he mused. +"Now, what has this Jim Conway done to my partner +that he needs to be punched for it? And who's this +Bub? Bub! That's a deuce of an undignified name for +a man to put on paper. Great Scott! I wonder if my +junior partner has gone in for prize fighting at that Jersey +athletic club he belongs to? Perhaps he's been +matched to box some fellow member named Jim Conway, +and this Bub chap down at St. Louis is wiring him encouragement. +Nope, that can't be right, either. My +junior partner has been taking on fat at an alarming rate +lately, so that he can't be training for a boxing contest."</p> +<p class="pnext">He took a few turns up and down the office, holding +the telegram out at arm's length.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I hope the boy don't get into a serious mix-up with +this Jim Conway fellow, whoever he is," he muttered +nervously. "I don't believe the lad has done anything +that he'd be ashamed to have me know about, and yet it's +blamed queer that he should be getting telegraphic despatches +from people by the name of Bub, urging him to +employ physical force for the subjugation of a chap with +such a Boweryesque sort of name as Jim Conway. The +question is, what's the boy done to Conway, or Conway +to him, that it should be necessary for one or both of +them to resort to fisticuffs? Now, if the boy were to get +mixed up in a brawl with this Conway there'd be the +deuce to pay. It 'ud get into the papers, and it might +have a serious effect upon our tidy and growing practice. +I wish that junior partner of mine were a bit more level-headed. +He's too clever and industrious and promising +to have anything whatsoever to do with folks who travel +under such names as Conway and Bub, and I'm going +to give him a mild little personally conducted talking to +when he gets back from Washington this afternoon. +Why, I wouldn't have him get into a street fight, or a +fight anywhere else for that matter, for big money—not +only for the sake of the firm, but for his own sake. He's +pretty handy with his maulies, and all that, but this fighting +business is not the thing for gentlemen, not by a long +shot. I just wish I could find out who this Conway duffer +is, anyhow."</p> +<p class="pnext">The young woman who manipulates the typewriter for +the firm came in just then.</p> +<p class="pnext">"By the way, Miss Bringlunch," the senior partner +said to her, "have we any person of the name of Jim +Conway on our list of correspondents?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"No, sir," she promptly replied. "We've got a Conners, +Coleman, Coulter, Conneff, Curran—lots and lots +of C's—but no Conway."</p> +<p class="pnext">"So I thought," said the senior partner. "Er—by the +way, did you ever happen to hear Mr. Barlock refer to +a person by the name of—er—Bub?"</p> +<p class="pnext">The young woman smiled as she tied her black sateen +apron in the back.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I've heard him call the newsboys who come into the +office with papers Bub," she replied.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Er—yes, yes," murmured the senior partner, "so +have I. But this is a St. Louis Bub. Well, no matter."</p> +<p class="pnext">The senior partner dived into the mass of papers on +his desk, but he couldn't get the bloodthirsty telegram +to his junior partner out of his mind. He was puzzling +over it still radiant when his junior partner's young +wife came along toward 11 o'clock in the morning. She +wanted to find out the exact hour her husband was due +back from Washington.</p> +<p class="pnext">"He'll be here a little after 4, I guess," said the senior +partner. "Er—by the way, Mrs. Barlock, does Jack +number among his friends or acquaintances anybody by +the name of Jim Conway?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Jim Conway?" repeated the junior partner's wife, +with a finger at her lip. "Why, no, not that I know of. +I never heard him say anything about a Mr. Conway. +Why?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Oh, nothing," said the senior partner, in a constrained +sort of tone, putting away the message from St. Louis +for the fiftieth time.</p> +<p class="pnext">The wife of the junior partner suddenly looked +alarmed.</p> +<p class="pnext">"That telegram!" she gasped, noticing the senior +partner's furtive manner of slipping the despatch into his +pocket—"is anything wrong with Jack? Has the train +been wrecked? Has the"——</p> +<p class="pnext">And she started to her feet in great agitation.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Calm yourself, calm yourself," said the senior partner, +also rising and smiling reassuringly. "There's nothing +the matter. Train wrecked? Why, the idea! How +did you ever get such a notion"——</p> +<p class="pnext">"But that telegram that you handle so mysteriously," +said the junior partner's wife, not yet over her alarm.</p> +<p class="pnext">"What telegram—this?" said the senior partner, taking +the night message from St. Louis from his pocket. +"Why, this is an ordinary—er—business telegram addressed +to Jack from St. Louis, and it's"——</p> +<p class="pnext">"Let me see it, please, if it's for Jack," said the junior +partner's wife, holding out her neatly gloved hand, and +the senior partner could do nothing else but pass it over.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Hammer—Jim—Conway. Punch—him—your—limit. +Don't—let—anything—scare—you—out. He's +easy. <span class="small-caps">Bub</span>.'" the junior partner's wife read, slowly and +distinctly, her eyes widening at each sentence. "This, +then, is the Mr. Conway that you spoke of. Mr. Topknot, +what is the meaning of this? What in the world +is the"——</p> +<p class="pnext">"You can search me," said the senior partner desperately. +"Er—that is, it's all as mysterious to me as +it apparently is to you. I've been bothering my head +about it all the morning. I wouldn't have worried you +by showing it to you, but as long as you asked to see +it, why, of course"——</p> +<p class="pnext">And the senior partner coughed behind his hand and +looked dismal.</p> +<p class="pnext">The junior partner's wife paced up and down the office +with the telegram in her hand.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Why, it looks as if Jack had an enemy named Jim +Conway, and that he intended to fight him, doesn't it?" +she exclaimed beseechingly to the senior partner. "I'd +just like to know who this horrid, nasty ruffian who signs +himself Bub is, that's all. My Jack fighting a man with +such an awful, 'longshoremanish name as Jim Conway! +Why, that name sounds like the names of the roustabouts +we read of in the papers who attack their poor wives +with cotton hooks and throw burning lamps at them. +And goodness gracious sakes alive! the very idea of Jack +Barlock ever dreaming of lowering himself by getting +into difficulties with such—oh, I don't know what to +think of it all; indeed I don't!"</p> +<p class="pnext">And she strode up and down the office again in great +agitation.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Now, now, now," put in the senior partner comfortingly. +"We don't know anything about the contents +of the message, and it may be that this Mr. Conway is—er—why, +the fact is, come to think of it, it may be a +message in code. Jack's got a code of his own, you know, +and maybe he"——</p> +<p class="pnext">The wife of the junior partner was looking at him +so suspiciously, however, that he couldn't go on. An expression +just a trifle harder than was exactly becoming +gradually stole into her face, and she walked over close +to where the senior partner sat in his revolving chair.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Ah," she said in a hard tone, "I begin to see. You +are trying to cover up something—you men always stick +together in these affairs. It may be that this Mr. Conway +is married, and that Jack—great heavens! if I only +thought it! If I even dreamed that such a thing could +be—after all the sacrifices I've made for Jack—living +away from mama all this time—and"——</p> +<p class="pnext">Then she reduced her handkerchief to a wad about +half an inch in diameter and began to dab at the corners +of her eyes.</p> +<p class="pnext">"My dear girl," said the senior partner, "I give you +my solemn word that I know no more about that message, +nor about Mr. Conway, than you do. I never +heard of Mr. Conway in my life before I opened that +telegram. My dear Mrs. Barlock, I am sure you are exaggerating +the importance of this despatch. There is no +reasonable ground whatsoever upon which you can base +any—er—accusation against the boy, and, as I say, it is +possible—in fact, it's more than probable—that this message +is in Jack's private code, and that"——</p> +<p class="pnext">"I—don't—believe—any—such—boo-hoo"——And +the lovely young matron began to rock herself to and +fro and to dab at her eyes unremittingly. "It's just as +plain as day that Jack has done some wrong to this poor +Mr. Conway, and this friend of Jack's in St. Louis, named +Bub, has heard that Mr. Conway is looking for Jack, and +he has sent him this telegram to warn him to be on his +guard—and—boo-hoo—who would ever dream that my +Jack would get himself involved in such an awful"——</p> +<p class="pnext">Her feelings overcame her again at this point, and she +was unable to proceed.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Mrs. Barlock," said her husband's senior partner, +severely, rising and confronting her, "I am surprised at +you—I am, indeed. I was certainly of the opinion that +in a matter of this sort you would at least give your +husband—a most considerate husband—the benefit of the +doubt; that you would at any rate give him an opportunity +to explain himself. How do we know what he +is to Conway or Conway to him?" And the senior partner, +growing eloquent, declaimed as if he were speaking +of Hecuba instead of the mysterious Conway. "Is it +not more than likely that you are doing him a grievous +wrong by even so much as imagining for a moment that +this extraordinary telegraphic communication from—er—this +Bub—person has any reference whatsoever to—er—uh—domestic +or family affairs? Wait until Jack returns, +my dear Mrs. Barlock, and I've not the least doubt +that he will explain everything to your entire satisfaction, +and"——</p> +<p class="pnext">"Oh, yes, explanations—explanations!" exclaimed the +junior partner's wife, giving her eyes a final dab and rising. +"You'll telegraph him on the train to have some +sort of an explanation ready, and then he'll come in here +with a deeply aggrieved countenance—just as if he had +had no part at all in endeavoring to break up this poor +Mr. Conway's home and tell me hypocritically that I've +wronged him and all that. I know you horrid men and +the way you stand by each other through thick and thin, +no matter how wicked you know each other to be. I shall +be back here at 4 o'clock, when Jack is due, Mr. Topknot, +and notwithstanding the way he is treating me, if +there is any possible way I can prevent him from meeting +this Mr. Conway and having a disgraceful altercation +with him, I shall do it. And I promise you that +I shall be able to detect very easily whether he is telling +me the truth or not when I demand him to explain this +terrible business."</p> +<p class="pnext">Saying which, the junior partner's wife pulled her veil +down and swept out of the office with the general air of +a deceived wife in a play.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Huh! it'd naturally be thought I'd know enough +not to make such an egregious ass of myself as to show +her that telegram!" growled the senior partner to himself. +"There'll be all kinds of a bobbery around here +this afternoon, I suppose, and if this Conway matter +proves to be something that Barlock wouldn't want his +wife to know about—and I've no doubt now that it will +prove just that way, the young idiot!—why, he'll be +sulky with me, and there'll be little or no work done on +those new cases, and—oh, it's a devil of a mess all +around, that's what it is!"</p> +<p class="pnext">For all of which, however, the senior partner had his +work to do, and he pitched in and was up to his ears +in it until about half-past 3, when the junior partner's +wife, with tightly pursed lips and an air of ominous calm, +arrived at the office with her mother, a handsome, +haughty, uncompromising-looking woman with a great +mass of white pompadour hair and an expression of unyielding +austerity. The junior partner's wife and her +mother replied to the senior partner's courteous greetings +with unusual stiffness, plainly indicating their joint belief +that he was in league with the absent junior partner +in his nefarious doings, or that he was at any rate attempting +to shield the young man.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Shall I turn on the electric fan, madam?" the senior +partner politely asked the junior partner's wife's mother.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I am quite cool enough, thank you," said the junior +partner's wife's mother, snappily.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Shall I fetch you a glass of iced water?" he asked the +junior partner's wife.</p> +<p class="pnext">"You are very kind, but I am not in the least thirsty," +she replied in a tone which seemed to convey the idea +as plainly as words that she feared he might put something +in the water that wouldn't do her any good.</p> +<p class="pnext">The senior partner turned to his work. Thus the three +sat in unbroken silence for fully fifteen minutes, when +the sound of a blustery, cheerful voice was heard in the +office boy's anteroom, and a few seconds later a tall, broad-shouldered, +frank-faced young man entered the office. +When he saw his wife he made for her with both arms +extended.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Why, hello, there, Patsy!" he said. "I didn't know +you'd be waiting for me, or I'd have come a-running—why, +what's the matter here, anyhow?"</p> +<p class="pnext">The junior partner's wife had shaken herself loose and +averted her face when her husband had attempted to +fold her in his arms. He stared at her for a moment, +and then he stared at his mother-in-law.</p> +<p class="pnext">"What's up, mom?" he asked his wife's mother. +"What have I been and gone and done now, I'd like to +know? Did I leave the water running in the bathroom +before starting for Washington, or have you lost my +bull-pup again, that you all look so queer—or what the +deuce is it all about?"</p> +<p class="pnext">Neither of the women vouchsafed him any reply, and +he turned to his senior partner.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I say, Topknot, look here; are you in on this?" he +said to his senior partner, who was twiddling his thumbs +and looking very much confused. "Did I rob a bank in +my sleep last week, or have the papers come out and accused +me of being a member of the Ice Trust, or"——</p> +<p class="pnext">"My boy," the senior partner interrupted, judiciously +rising and taking the mysterious telegram from the inside +pocket of his frock coat, "the telegraphic message which +I have in my hand, and which, I regret to say, I opened +this morning, knowing that you would not be back in New +York until late in the afternoon, has been the occasion, +owing to its somewhat mysterious contents, of the seeming"——</p> +<p class="pnext">"Let's see it, Topknot," said the junior partner, reaching +for the telegram.</p> +<p class="pnext">He spread it out and glanced over its two lines. By +the time he got through reading it he was in a frenzy of +excitement. He jerked his watch out and looked at it.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I've just got time," he muttered to himself, hastily. +"I'll just about be able to make it. Patsy, you stay +here with your mother until I get back. I'll be back in +twenty minutes or half an hour. Tell you all about it +when I get back," and he was out of the office door and +down the steps like a boy breaking out of a little red +schoolhouse for recess.</p> +<p class="pnext">A vacant cab happened to be passing just as he got +outside, and he hailed the driver and darted into the vehicle.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Drive like the devil to ——'s!" he shouted to the +driver, and in something under three minutes he had +rushed into the upstairs poolroom about four blocks from +his office.</p> +<p class="pnext">The second line of betting was in on the second race +at St. Louis, and the horse Jim Conway was the rank outsider +at 60 to 1. The junior partner crowded his way up +to the counter and laid down a ten-dollar note.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Gimme Jim Conway," he said to the man behind the +counter.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Conway, $600 to $10," said the money taker, and he +had no sooner finished the words than the instrument +began to click.</p> +<p class="pnext">"They're off at St. Loo!" sang out the operator. +"Rushfields in the lead, Cathedral second." Pause. +"Cathedral at the quarter by two lengths, Rushfields +second." Pause. "Cathedral at the half by three lengths, +Rushfields second." Pause. "Cathedral at the three-quarters +by a length, Rushfields second." Pause. "Cathedral +in the stretch by a neck, Rushfields second by a +neck." Longer pause. "Jim Conway wins, easy, by +three lengths!"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Whoopee-wow!" The yell went up from the long-shot +players in the room who had taken a chance on Jim +Conway.</p> +<p class="pnext">The junior partner stood around with a broad grin on +his face while he waited for the race to be confirmed. +Then he collected, bounded downstairs, hailed another +cab, and in exactly seventeen minutes from the time he +had left his office he was back there again. He was +greeted with the same frigidity as characterized his original +welcome. He still wore his broad grin, and he +walked over to his desk, raised the lid, and began to dig +into his pockets. He produced first one fat roll of bills +and then another, and he slammed each roll down on his +desk as if it were so much shavings. His wife and his +wife's mother and his senior partner watched his performance +with open mouths, as did the office boy who +stood in the doorway. When the junior partner had +made a pyramid of bills on his desk about as big as a +fair-sized derby hat, he turned to his wife and asked her, +still grinning:</p> +<p class="pnext">"Did you read this telegram, my dear?" holding the +message out in his hand.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I certainly did," she replied, "and you would oblige +me greatly if you would"——</p> +<p class="pnext">"And who do you think this Jim Conway was, Patsy?" +he interrupted.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I hadn't the least idea in life," she replied, without +any sign of relenting, "nor have I at the present +moment. I intend, however, to find out who Mr. Conway is +at the earliest possible mo"——</p> +<p class="pnext">The junior partner fell into a revolving chair, stuck +his legs out in front of him as far as they would reach, +and roared so that he must have been heard all over the +building. He roared so loud and long that the performance +was infectious, and his wife and his wife's +mother and his senior partner, notwithstanding the fact +had begun to dawn upon them that they were in a foolish +position, had to smile in spite of themselves. When +the junior partner was able to splutter he managed to +gasp his explanation in short sentences. Bub was a +friend of his in St. Louis who followed the races out +there, and who had promised to tip him off on the first +good thing at a long price that was to be put over the +plate at the St. Louis meeting. Bub had kept his promise, +and the junior partner was $600 to the good. That +was all.</p> +<p class="pnext">"And if you don't go out and corner the foulard dress +goods market to-morrow, Patsy," the junior partner concluded, +addressing his wife, "on the strength of what +our four-footed pal, Jim Conway, has done for us, +why"——</p> +<p class="pnext">When they had gone, the office boy, in sweeping out +the office, picked up the telegram, that had slipped to +the floor while the junior partner was laughing.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Now, w'y couldn't I ha' got a piece o' dat!" said the +office boy, disgustedly as he read the telegram. "I bin +pickin' dat skate ev'ry day f'r de las' two weeks, and I +knowed dis mornin' w'en I seen de St. Loo entries dat +he'd win in buck-jump."</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="story-of-a-famous-pat-hand"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id19">STORY OF A FAMOUS PAT HAND.</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">A Game in New Orleans That Makes Modern "Big" Poker Games Seem Tiny by Comparison.</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">"The shrinkage in the value of poker winnings that +get talked about nowadays," said the New Orleans turfman +at the beach dinner, "is mournful, that's what it +is. A few days ago a man told me that So-and-so, a +gilded youth from up the State somewhere, had recently +swooped down upon a gentleman's poker club in New +York, and had removed himself from the scene of play, +after a five-hour séance, with $8500 in winnings. The +man who told me this leaned back, after he had sprung +the $8500 climax, and waited for my eyes to protrude. +He looked a bit miffed and sulky when they didn't protrude.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Why, durn it all,' said he, 'I believe you affect your +cold-blooded way of taking things. To see you twiddle +your thumbs a man 'ud suppose that you had no more +sense than to imagine that an $8500 winning at a short +poker sitting was the most ordinary thing in the'——</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Easy, easy,' I had to put in, for he was heating +himself unduly. Then, to bring him around to good nature +again and to convince him that I wasn't attitudinizing, +I was compelled to spend a half hour or so in unwinding +a bit of a reel of the days when there were poker giants +in this country. He wasn't quite willing, at the finish, +to acknowledge that the winner at draw of $8500 was a +poker pigmy, but when I happened to mention the occasion +when Phil Cuthbert of St. James's parish dropped, +in a two-handed game at the St. Charles Hotel in New +Orleans, a little bundle of $400,000"——</p> +<p class="pnext">"He told you, of course, that you were smoking," interrupted +the New York man.</p> +<p class="pnext">"No, he didn't. He asked me if it got into the New +Orleans papers. I told him that in 1868 the New Orleans +papers were too busy roasting the carpet-baggers to devote +any space to such a minor matter as a $400,000 +poker game at the St. Charles Hotel, where draw games +approximating that in size were generally going on at +any old hour of the day or night. There was some +rhetoric, I admit, in that 'approximating' statement, but +I wanted to set this New York man right. As a matter +of fact, a $50,000 game of draw was not at all uncommon +in the St. Charles's private poker parlors. After +Phil Cuthbert had dropped that mound of $400,000 on one +hand, the New Orleans papers did announce that Mr. +Philip Cuthbert, the well-known planter of St. James's +parish, was about to start on a gold-prospecting tour +in the mountains of Honduras; but they were generous +enough not to mention, if they knew it, that, with four +aces in his hand, he had lost $400,000 to Mr. Joseph +Lescolette, shipper, of Havre, Pernambuco, and New +Orleans."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Lost $400,000 on a hand consisting of four aces, am +I to understand you said?" asked the New York man.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The statement was to that general effect," replied the +New Orleans turfman.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Suppose you just lead up to that gradually by telling +the story."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, in order to do that, I've got to plead guilty to +having been a table arranger and sweep-out boy at the +St. Charles at the time the thing happened," said the +horseman from New Orleans. "However, having +achieved greatness since, I see no reason why I shouldn't +be willing to acknowledge that. Besides being table arranger +and sweep-out boy, it was one of the functions +of my job at the St. Charles to sort o' stand by, as sailor-men +say, when games were on in the private parlors, +and run errands for the gentlemen playing. There +was plenty of high poker play to be had at any of +the first-rate New Orleans clubs at that time—too much +of it, in fact, for the club games became so open, owing +to the too generous distribution of visitors' cards by the +club members that many of the high-playing men of the +town abandoned club poker playing altogether. When +they felt the hunch to get into a game of draw they adjourned +to the St. Charles, where, in the seclusion of a +private parlor, they enjoyed freedom from the neck-craning +gaze of onlookers, and freedom also from that +bane of the genuine lover of a game of draw, the chap +who stands behind one's chair and keeps up a running +commentary of approval or disapproval.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Phil Cuthbert was a raiser of perique tobacco up in +St. James's parish, and he had besides several thousand +acres in cotton. His father, who died before the war +was well under way, was supposed to be worth from +$2,000,000 to $3,000,000, and it all went to his only son, +Phil. At the close of the war the estate had dwindled to +some $800,000, and Phil started in to flatten it out still +more. It was the talk of Louisiana that he had taken +a $250,000 crimp in the estate within two years after he +had entered upon it, and it had nearly all gone at cards. +He wasn't a dissipated man at all, but he just naturally +couldn't help but play poker, and he belonged to a family +of losers at poker. Before this big game that I'm going +to tell you about wound him up I'd frequently seen him +win as much as $25,000 in a single night's play at the St. +Charles. Instead, though, of making a run for it for his +St. James's plantation when he made a winning like +this, he'd be back again with a party of more or less +solvent friends the very next night, and his winnings and +an amount equal thereto that was not velvet, but hard, +soil-wrung cash, would float out of his keeping into the +hands of his friends. Wherefore, to insert a tiny bit of +moralizing on the side, I want to say that your greatest +gambler is not the man who possesses the greatest amount +of skill in manipulating the cards, dice or wheel, but +the man who knows to a T when the psychological moment +arrives for him to quit, winner or loser.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Joe Lescolette—called Joe familiarly because he was +under 40, a rounder of French nativity who loved Americans +and their nicknames and diminutives of good fellowship—was +probably the richest of the New Orleans +fruit importers at that time. His father before him had +had a line of South American and West Indian sailing +packets hauling fruit into New Orleans for the American +market, and Joe came into the whole business at the +old gentleman's death. To go a little ahead of the story, +Joe went to France at the outbreak of the Franco-Prussian +War in 1870, entered the French Army, and was +killed at Gravelotte. He wasn't a hectic flush gambler +during the few years that he kept his name pretty constantly +in the mouths of New Orleans folks on account +of his extravagances, but he was a scientific master of +the game of American draw, all the same, and, by the +same token, as nervy a little man in a game of cards, +or in any other affair of life, for the matter of that, as +ever came out of Gaul. He was the original subsidizer +of the French opera in New Orleans, by the way, and it +was at a performance of 'Aida' that Joe met Phil Cuthbert +on the night Phil struck the poker snag that wrecked +his estate. The two men were friends of some years' +standing, members of the same clubs, and they had had +various business dealings with each other besides. On +the night of the 'Aida' performance Cuthbert had just +struck town from his St. James plantation and he had +the poker light in his eye. Cuthbert met Joe Lescolette +in the smoking-room of the opera house during the final +intermission and slipped his arm through Lescolette's +and said:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Joe, I desire to accumulate, accrue and win a very +large portion of your currency, even unto half of your +kingdom, this night. There is too much conversation in +a game of four. Suppose, then, when the dying strains +of <em class="italics">Rhadames</em> are only echoes and this act is finished we +slit each other's weazens, pokerishly speaking, over at +the hotel.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, when they came I was the buttons in charge +of the parlor they selected for play. Much as they desired +solitude, they couldn't achieve it. About half a +dozen of their friends traipsed along with them, and took +one of the tables in the same parlor and went at a dinky +game of $20 limit.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I piled a couple of dozen of decks of cards within +easy reach of Cuthbert and the Frenchman, and, after +they had each taken two brandies and sodas apiece, talking +the while of everything else on earth besides poker, +they began to play. Both of them had their check-books +beside them on the table, and the bank was to keep itself, +as the saying goes. There was to be no limit. New Orleans +men who, in those days, were poker players of the +old time sort, didn't ever play with a limit. None of +them ever took advantage of this unwritten clause of the +game to raise an opponent a million of dollars or so, and +therefore out, but they played according to their means, +and if any of them was raised a bit too strong by a confident +opponent he only had to let out a word to have +the raise reduced. I don't suppose more absolutely on-the-level +poker was ever played in this country than the +game as enjoyed by men of wealth in New Orleans after +the close of the war.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The white chips in this game between Lescolette and +Cuthbert were worth $10, the reds $25, the blues $50, +and the yellows $100. This was double the usual value +of the chips even in big games at the St. Charles, and I +could see that both men were out for it—in a perfectly +friendly and cordial way, of course, but out for it nevertheless. +Lescolette was a scientific, cool, all-around, percentage +player of poker. He had made a study of the +game just as he had made a study of the fruit trade, and +he had very little of the mercurial disposition of his +race. Withal, he was a generous man in the game, and +never took advantage of an opponent's overgrown confidence. +Cuthbert was an uneven player, not a cool-headed +man at all. He had no license to play cards for +big stakes under any circumstances. In the first place, +he drank too much over the game, and, in the second +place, he tried to play poker by intuition instead of by +mathematical calculation and the study of the other fellow's +forehead. He knew poker thoroughly, of course, +and he had flashes of genius at it, but in general, as I +look back to his work now, I'd call his poker ragged, +uneven, and unproductive.</p> +<p class="pnext">"For all that, Cuthbert had Lescolette's checks to the +aggregate of nearly $13,000 after a couple of hours' +play. The friends of the two men at the other table +knocked off to watch the play at the two-handed table. +Lescolette, while he showed no nervousness, indicated by +a somewhat deepened earnestness of manner that he didn't +relish being $13,000 or anything like it in the hole. After +he had dashed off the check that put him that amount +out, he sent me to the café for a lunch, and the two men +and their friends spent an hour or so over the salads and +wines.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'We'll resume, then?' said Lescolette, and they began +play again. It was about 1 o'clock in the morning. +Cuthbert had taken three pints of wine to wash down his +luncheon, and then a rather heavy swig of cognac. When +they resumed there was too much color in his cheeks for +a successful poker player. Lescolette had drunk only +Apollinaris.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Cuthbert split open a new deck when play was resumed, +and riffled them rather uncertainly.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Damn a new deck of machine-burnished cards,' said +he. 'Joe, you limber them up and deal this hand.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Lescolette took the deck and riffled them for fully two +minutes. Then he spread them out all over the table, +tossed them about every which way for a bit, straightened +them together in a bunch, riffled them again, and passing +them over to Cuthbert for the cut, dished them out.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Cuthbert was one of those poker players who pick +up their cards one by one. It is terribly bad form, that, +but Cuthbert, with his nervous disposition, was addicted +to it. He picked up his first card this time and said, +'Ah, a good beginning.' When he looked at his second +card, said he, 'Better yet.' He made no comment upon +his third card, but he flushed and gave a start that was +perceptible to every man in the room save Lescolette, +who was scanning his own hand. His fourth card took +the flush out of his cheeks and steadied him. He went +pale when he looked at it. He forgot to pick up his fifth +card until Lescolette, looking up, remarked: 'Phil, are +you strong enough to beat me with only four cards?' +Then Cuthbert picked up his fifth card mechanically. +It was a bad break, his leaving his fifth card untouched +until reminded of it. It announced, simply, that he +had pat fours. But he didn't seem to think of this.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Cuthbert's $50 anteing chip was in the middle of +the table. Lescolette looked at it for a second, and seemed +to be in more than one mind about playing or making +it a jack pot. He decided to play, and joggled in his blue +chip.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Suppose,' said Cuthbert, still pale but steady, 'we +make it $100 more to play, Joe?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Of course,' said Lescolette, and he shoved in a yellow +chip to match Cuthbert's.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'How many?' asked Lescolette, ready to dish out +cards.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'None,' said Cuthbert, who looked queer and unnatural +with his white countenance and glowing eyes.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'So strong as that on the go-in?' said Lescolette, +elevating his eyebrows. 'You have me seined. I require +a card.' And he served himself with it.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I pretended to have a bit of business to attend to +behind Cuthbert's chair, so I could glance at his hand. +He had four aces. I couldn't get behind Lescolette's +chair, for three of the players' friends were seated behind +him. Lescolette didn't make any sign either of elation +or disappointment when he looked at the card he +had drawn. He looked up for a bet, for it was up to +Cuthbert.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'A thousand dollars, make it, Joe,' said Cuthbert.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Oh, I'm not in so deeply that I can't pull out of this +pot,' said Lescolette good-naturedly. 'However, seeing +it's you, your thousand is sighted, and it's $5000 more.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"This was precisely what Cuthbert wanted.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Now you're racing,' said he. 'Ten thousand more, +Joseph Marie.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Lescolette looked up at Cuthbert suddenly.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I say, Cuthbert,' said he, 'isn't this a bit tumultuous +and headlong, as it were?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I don't see why you should consider it so, Joe,' replied +Cuthbert. 'I'm playing according to the value of +my hand. However, if it seems to strong, why'——</p> +<p class="pnext">"'No, no, no,' put in Lescolette, quickly. 'I can stand +it, and I do not seek to have you lower any of your raises. +I simply was considering my own almost invincible +strength herein.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I stood pat, and you drew a card, you know,' said +Cuthbert. 'I rarely bluff. You are to regard me as a +bit of an Atlas in this likewise. You see the $10,000 +raise?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Surely' said Lescolette, 'and elevate it another +notch of $10,000. Will one of you gentlemen'—addressing +the somewhat wrought-up group of lookers-on—'keep +track of this with a bit of a pencil?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"One of the men in the group got out a note-book +and stood by to register the bets.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Having emerged from the narrow domain of chance +into the field of uncertainty,' said Cuthbert, 'I fear me +I'll have to make it still another $10,000, Joe.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Lescolette, the more common-sense man of the two, +rested his hands on the table before him and reflected.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I don't think I want any more of this, Cuthbert,' he +said. 'There is now a great deal of money in the pot. +It would be idle for either one of us to say that we +could easily afford to lose our respective share in the +pot as it stands. And yet, I don't exactly feel like calling +you. I'm too well fixed. I haven't had such a hand +at poker since'——</p> +<p class="pnext">"'That being the case,' said Cuthbert, interrupting, +'why not be a sportsman and play your string?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"That remark nettled Lescolette just enough to hold +him in indefinitely. There was no more talk on his part.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Ten thousand more than you,' he said, short and +sharp.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Then the friends of the two men began to mutter.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'This is all very fine as an exhibition of gameness,' +they said, collectively, 'but there is a stopping point, or +should be.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"When there was nearly $275,000 in the pot both +Cuthbert and Lescolette pulled out their notebooks and +began to run over their bank accounts. Both found +that they had about tapped their supply of ready banked +cash. They wrote checks, payable to each other's order, +for their respective shares of the amount in the pot, and +then Cuthbert said:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Joe, I can't let down in this. I could never quite +forgive myself if I did. Appraise my St. James land.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Lescolette protested. He had often visited Cuthbert +at his beautiful St. James place. He protested hard. Yet +he wouldn't call.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Appraise the St. James land, Joe,' said Cuthbert +again. Lescolette declined to do it, and Cuthbert appealed +to one of his friends to do it.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I should say your St. James plantations are worth +close to $250,000,' said this gentleman, unwillingly.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Very well,' said Cuthbert. 'Shall I say, Joe, that +those three squares of yours on Canal street are worth +the same amount?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Lescolette nodded gravely.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Rather more than they're worth, I should say,' he +remarked.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well, they'll serve. I approximate their value,' +said Cuthbert, the flush back in his face again and his +eyes burning like coals. 'It is now my bet, is it not? +Joseph Marie, my St. James plantations, at their appraised +value of $250,000, against these, your Canal +street property, if you elect—and we'll show down.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Lescolette nodded.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Old man,' said Cuthbert, then, 'you don't think +I play it low down upon you? I couldn't throw them +away, you fully understand? Joe, I've got four aces!'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Truly?' said Lescolette, inquiringly and quietly. +'Put them down, that we may see.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Cuthbert, confident then that he was the winner, nervously +placed his hand face up on the table. Lescolette +threw down, then, amid a very intense silence, the deuce +of hearts, face up. Next, he threw by the side of the +deuce the trey of hearts. Then the four of hearts. Then +the five of hearts. He halted then for a second. +Cuthbert was as haggard looking a man as I ever saw. +Lescolette threw down the six of hearts.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Cuthbert simply said, 'All right, Joe,' walked over to +the sideboard, poured out a whopping big tumblerful +of brandy, gulped it down, and, with a murmured +'Good morning' (it was dawn) he walked unsteadily +out. That afternoon he made his St. James plantations +over to Lescolette, notwithstanding the latter's protests. +He had about $20,000 out of the wreck of his estate. He +went to Honduras on a prospecting tour, found gold, +and died in a Tegucigalpa hut of the fever."</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="great-luck-at-an-inopportune-time"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id20">GREAT LUCK AT AN INOPPORTUNE TIME.</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">A Poker Game in Abilene, When Abilene Was Bad, in Which a Tenderfoot Came Near Crossing the "Divide."</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">"I had so much luck in a poker game I once sat into +that I've never played draw since," said a civil engineer +who helped to build several of the railroads west of the +Missouri. "It happened in Abilene in the summer of +'70. We had then pushed the road about eight miles to +the west of Abilene. You know what Abilene was in +'70. Dodge City was then a camp-meeting grove compared +with Abilene. The men belonging to our construction +gangs were a bad enough lot to make it worth any +man's while to go light on them, but they were cooing +doves alongside of the batch of evil devils who had thrown +the town of Abilene together in anticipation of the building +of the railroad. Before we got anywhere near Abilene +there was a pretty fair-sized and comfortably-filled +cemetery plotted out near the town. But when we got +close enough to Abilene to make it practicable for our +construction men to put in their spare time there, drinking +'sumac' whisky and playing cards, between knock-off +on Saturday afternoon and jump-in on Monday morning, +Joe Geddes, the pine-box undertaker of Abilene, had +more business than he could handle, working night and +day.</p> +<p class="pnext">"From the time that we got ten miles this side of Abilene +until the rails were set twenty miles the other side of +it, we lost construction men so fast that the road's employing +agents in Leavenworth and Kansas City had trouble +in filling their places. Every Monday morning there +was a round-up of the dead and wounded in the whitewashed +calaboose and hospital in Abilene that reminded +the ex-soldier surveyors who were with me of their war +experiences. The construction men got the worst of it, +of course. While they were game enough men, their +weapons were their fists, their knives, and sometimes their +picks. But they were not up to the science of fine gun +work, whereas the Abileneites, composed chiefly of left-over +cowboys from the great Texas cattle-trail, whisky-dishers +from the slumped Colorado mining camps, and +tin-horners and desperadoes from everywhere, all knew +how to pump lead like lathers spitting nails.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Although a pretty young man at that time, I was in +charge of the surveyors' gang. Most of the men in my +gang were experienced, taciturn chaps. The experiences +they had picked up in bad towns along other Western +lines they had helped to map out had taught them +the sense of steering clear of such towns and of sticking +to their tents. I don't suppose that a man of my gang +walked through the streets of Abilene when we brought +the road there—not because they were in any sense cowardly, +but because they had learned in the course of +years of frontiering that trouble, and a whole lot of it, +often overtakes men who are least in search of it in towns +like Abilene.</p> +<p class="pnext">"These old-timers tried to talk me out of my determination +to have a look around in the town where so +many of the men of the construction gangs were being +killed off—for I wanted to see what thorough out-and-out +bad men looked like. They told me that if I ever +wanted to see my folks back East any more I'd better +not do any monkeying around in Abilene. But I knew it +all in those days, and so, without letting any of the men +in my gang know anything about it, I slipped over to the +chainmen's tents one night and roped in a couple of +them to handcar me down to Abilene. When we reached +the town I sent the chainmen back with the handcar, +telling them to return for me in the morning.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Abilene rather surprised me at first. I at least expected +to have my hat shot off a few times in the course +of an hour's rambling around, and, in fact, I was prepared +to do a little impromptu dancing for the edification +of Abileneites, who enjoyed toying with strangers. +Nothing of the sort happened. Instead, the fellows +hanging around the whisky mills and the brace +faro layouts good-naturedly took me in hand and started +in to give me a good time. I was a breezy young chap, +you see, and able to hold my own in any public exhibition +of the swelled head I unquestionably possessed at +that time. Anyhow, things had not thoroughly warmed +up for the night when I fell in with the gang early in +the evening. It all looked so smooth and easy, and the +heavy-artilleried chaps that I ran into seemed so square +and peaceable that I drank a good deal more sagebrush +whisky than I had any right to drink or than I had ever +drank before.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Around about midnight five of us, including Jim +Cathcart, a bad man who was hanged a few years later +for the murder of a Sheriff in Texas, pulled up at Toole +Kingsley's 'Kansas or Bust' saloon and faro bank. The +three other fellows I was with were outlawed cowboys, +although I didn't know it then, and even if I had it +wouldn't have made any difference in the shape I was in. +Cathcart suggested a game of draw. He had probably +noticed my good-sized wad of money, and I guess he +reckoned on getting it. I didn't have any more sense +than to agree, and, the other three chaps being willing, +of course, we went up to the second floor of Kingsley's +rum and faro honkatonk and waded in. When Cathcart +suggested the game I noticed that a tall, broad-shouldered, +very muscular-looking man, with long hair +and a heavy mustache, who was standing with his back +to the bar, eyed us pretty carefully, and at the time I +rather wondered what he meant by it, though I forgot +all about him five minutes later in the intensity of the +game.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Intense' is not the word to describe that game of +poker. I had been plugging along at the game of draw +more or less ever since I was a growing lad, and after +I had begun to shoulder an azimuth I had been an onlooker +at some mighty queer games. But I never saw +cards run the way they did that night. I was just about +a fair to middling poker player; certainly nothing extra, +although I was deft of hand and knew how to riffle cards +in a way to bluff fellows not acquainted with my comparative +inferiority as a poker player into the belief that +I was some pumpkins with the pasteboards. But, second-rate +player as I was, and something over two parts +loaded as I was, besides, in common with my four fellow-players, +the luck that I had from the very beginning +of the game was positively miraculous. None of the +other men had a half-skilletful of luck. It all came my +way. It was embarrassing for a while, but later on +it became dangerous; for I was a total stranger to these +four men and a good deal oilier in manners and speech +than they—a thing that was likely to excite suspicion +in towns like Abilene in those days, especially in the +minds of men steadily losing in a game of draw.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Every man of the four persisted in giving me such +massive hands to play against the utterly no-account +hands they dished out to themselves that I didn't know +what to make of it. All four of them were reasonably +good poker players, but they were none of them short-carders—able +to stack a deck; and I had certainly never +sat into a squarer game of draw. But my own luck was +absolutely magical. Pat hands were given to me about +as often as pairs were served out to the other fellows. +Every time this happened, and one or more of my opponents +determined to find out if I was bluffing on my +pats, I laid down the hands with a little fear growing +within me; for after we had been playing for an hour +or so I noticed all four of 'em snatching glances at me +out of the tails of their eyes.</p> +<p class="pnext">"After I had continued whacking all four of them +pretty hard on their own deals (rarely dealing myself a +hand worth anything) for a couple of hours, the luck took +a peculiar switch, although it stayed with me. I began +to get nothing whatever on the deals of the other fellows, +but on my own deals I fed myself hands that +actually smelt of brimstone, they were so weird and +inexplicable. One time I got four eights pat on my +own deal. I drew a card to give the impression that I +was either drawing to two pairs or bobbing to a straight +or flush, and won a corking pot. I was given some bad +looks for this. Ten minutes later, when it was my deal, +I was kind enough to give myself a pat full, kings up +on sevens, and, the whole four staying, I rapped them +again with all my might, although the chill of fear was +creeping over, in spite of the copious quantities of fiery +red liquor I was getting outside of along with the others. +Once the luck veered around this way, it seemed as if I +never got as much as ten high when the other fellows +dealt. So the only thing I could do was to drop my +hands and stay out on their deals. They were quick +to notice this, and it didn't improve my situation any, +either.</p> +<p class="pnext">"This extraordinary luck jumped me on my own deal +only once after I had caught and played those two self-dealt +pat hands for all they were worth. The result was +that I was out of the game for quite a little while, none +of the other men serving me with hands fit to draw to. +Meanwhile the four of them played listlessly with me +out of it, for I had a good deal of the money of each, and +they wanted it back. I think all four of them had fully +decided in their own minds by this time that I was +crooked and were only waiting for a chance to nail me.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I had the buck when it came my turn to deal again, +and so it was a jackpot. I was wishing myself well out +of it, and had cold feet, if ever a man did, though I was +afraid to say so with so much of my opponents' money in +my clothes. My hands probably trembled a little as I +dealt that round, and even this fact probably caused them +to suspect that I was monkeying with the deck and to +watch me narrowly. The man on my left opened the pot +for the size of it, and all stayed. When I picked up my +hand and saw that I had given myself a clean, pat flush, +ace on top, it made me pretty nervous, and before I stayed +I did a heap of considering.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'The best thing you can do, young fellow,' said I to +myself, 'is to stay out of this jack altogether, or else +throw that straight of yours face up in the center of the +table, proving your squareness to these cutthroats, and +let them play the jack out among themselves. If you +don't do one of these things, you're going to get hurt in +just about three minutes.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Then I considered some more. Here I had a fine and +probably winning hand that I had come by perfectly on +the level, and it would be rank cowardice to throw it away, +and mighty poor poker, besides.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I'll be damned if I do any such thing just to convince +these chaps that I'm not a thief,' was my final conclusion; +and with that I made it twice the size of the +pot to draw cards. They all glowered I tell you what, +but they all stayed, every one of 'em. They not +only stayed, but they bet and raised each other like +the devil, and forced me to out-raise all of their raises +every time it came around to me.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Jim Cathcart, whose beady eyes had been blazing ever +since I doubled the value of the pot to draw cards, was +as bad-looking a man as I want to see when, finally, the +man at my left called my last big raise. There had probably +been some signals in knee-rubbing under the table, +for the other two cowboys followed the lead of the first +and called me in turn. When it got around to Cathcart +he slammed his bundle of greenbacks into the pile with +an oath.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Podner,' said he, looking hard at me with his little +red eyes, 'some o' your work here to-night has been so +cut-an'-dried lookin' as to excite a whole lot of doubt +about your bein' on the level; an' if you happen to have +anythin' in that fist o' your'n this time that'll top these +here three aces o' mine, then, by hell, you havin' dealt this +mess yourself, there won't be no manner o' question but +that you're a damned proper crook.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Was I scared? Well, the hand just fell out of my +paw, face up on the table, I was so scared! I was so +paralyzed with fear that I simply couldn't move or say +a word, and, what's more, I'm not a particle ashamed to +own up to it. When the cards fell out of my hand Cathcart +reached over and spread them out with his left hand.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well, by hell, you are a crook, ain't you?' he +snapped when he saw the value of the hand that beat his +own good one, and as he spoke he whipped out the big +gun on the right side of his belt. I was blind with terror, +and when I heard the loud report of a gun I gave it all up +and figured that I was already three-quarters of the way +over the Big Divide.</p> +<p class="pnext">"When I opened my eyes a second later I saw Cathcart +staring at the door, his right arm hanging limp at +his side. His gun had fallen on the table without being +discharged, and his left arm was in the air. So were the +six arms of the other three men, and they also had their +eyes glued on the door. I wheeled around to look that +way myself. Standing quietly under the lintel of the +door, with his two big guns covering the five of us, was +the tall, broad-shouldered, long-haired man I had noticed +eyeing us before we started the game of poker. +The man was Wild Bill, Abilene's celebrated Marshal. +The shot I had heard when I had given the whole thing +up was from one of Wild Bill's unerring guns. It had +pinked Cathcart in the right shoulder just in the nick +of time, causing the gun with which he had intended to +shoot me to fall from his hand.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Slope for your camp, son,' said Wild Bill to me +quietly, still covering the four men. Well, for all I +know, he might be covering them yet. I do know, +though, that I was out of that room like a cat out of a +bag, and the way I cut for our camp, over the newly-laid +ties, eight miles away, was a warning to grasshoppers.</p> +<p class="pnext">"It was while I was making this little journey, hitting +a high place only once in a while, that I came to the determination +that for a man who could not fight shy of +bull-head luck any better than I could, the game of draw +poker was altogether too exciting and spirit-ruffling for +health and peace of mind; and I haven't departed from +that determination down to the present moment of time."</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="card-playing-on-ocean-steamers"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id21">CARD-PLAYING ON OCEAN STEAMERS.</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">Some of the Crafty Dodges Resorted to by the Professional Sharpers Who "Work the Liners."</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">An Englishman who travels a good deal was generalizing +at one of the clubs last night on the subject of +the card sharpers who devote themselves exclusively to +the ocean steamers.</p> +<p class="pnext">"It's a marvel to me," he said, "that the American +steamship people, or the police, or somebody, can't drive +these sharpers off the American steamers. It's nothing +short of disgraceful. Must be something wrong +somewhere. Can't be collusion, I don't suppose, or"——</p> +<p class="pnext">"Oh, come now, stow that, mate," said an American +who does a bit of traveling himself. "If they're not +worse, and more of them, on the English transatlantic +steamers, I'll turn British subject, take the Queen's +shilling, put on a red coat, and fight all the naked blacks +from Dahomey to"——</p> +<p class="pnext">"Humbug! We don't fight naked blacks. We only +subdue them, that's all. Punitive expeditions, you know. +But about these card sharpers on the American ships. +Why, it's simply barbarous, you know, to permit them to +mingle with gentlemen as they do. And the worst of +it is, the cads get themselves up like gentlemen, so how's +a man to know"——</p> +<p class="pnext">"Must have been hit yourself last trip over, old man," +put in the American.</p> +<p class="pnext">The Englishman got red and flustered, as Englishmen +will when compelled to admit that the universe is not +entirely an open book to them.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, yes, I did," he admitted gamely. "Not very +hard, though. I think twenty guineas would about cover +it. But it wasn't the money so much. It was the way +the thing was done—positively beastly, I say. Man was +introduced to me on sailing day on the other side by an +American I know well. Good fellow, too. Man had +been introduced to him by somebody else, and so on, so +that it would take a Scotland Yard man to trace how he +came to know and rob most of us coming across. Worst +of it was, I myself presented the chap to any number of +fellows I knew on the ship, and all of 'em got bit more +or less, and all of 'em looked at me reproachfully when +it came out after we landed that the chap was a sharper, +just as I looked reproachfully at the man who"——</p> +<p class="pnext">"Sort of endless chain, wasn't it?" put in the American.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, if you want to put it that way," said the Englishman. +"And worse still, the man got my guineas +at my own game. If it had been poker, now, I wouldn't +have minded so much, for I never could master that queer +game, and I don't believe there's anything in it, anyhow. +But nap! Chap beat me clean at nap, that I've been +playing ever since I was at Harrow. Odd, too, that I +beat him easily at first and had all the luck, and was +probably fifty guineas ahead of him. Then suddenly the +luck changed, you see"——</p> +<p class="pnext">The American smiled.</p> +<p class="pnext">"What the deuce are you grinning at? The luck +changed, as I say, and, by Jove, the fellow positively +couldn't lose. If my daughter hadn't become ill on the +fourth day out, I dare say I might have lost quite a bit +of money, and"——</p> +<p class="pnext">"Unquestionably you would have," put in the American. +"So that in one respect your daughter's illness—which +I trust was not serious—was really a blessing to +you. It's queer to me that no Englishman I have ever +met in ocean voyaging is able to perceive that when he +is playing at cards with a stranger who permits him to +win easily and heavily at first, it is time for him to make +his devoirs, more or less respectful, to the stranger, and +proceed to take a constitutional on the main deck, henceforth +abjuring cards with said stranger. Now, an +American is able to see into that game right away. If +he is playing with a friend, and the friend is a winner +from the go-off, as we say over here, all well and +good. The American voyager who is up to snuff puts +his friend's initial winnings down to the chances of the +game. But when he gets into a game with a stranger, +and the stranger simply shoves money from the outset +over to his side of the table—well, do you know what +the American of to-day does under those circumstances? +He simply awaits the moment when the luck begins to +change, and then he has an imperative appointment with +his wife in the cabin. He thus picks up quite a bit of +cigar money from a man who he instinctively knows is +a sharper."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Fancy now," said the Englishman. "If I had only +known that"——</p> +<p class="pnext">"But you didn't know, and, as I say, I never came +across the Englishman who did. Why, the ocean voyaging +card sharpers have become so well aware of this +little shrewd habit of American passengers with whom +they sit down to a game that of late years they have altogether +abandoned that old, old trick of permitting their +victims to win with ease at the outset. They only work +that trick nowadays on Englishmen. Fact is, I think +there ought to be a rule on all transatlantic steamships, +English and American, absolutely prohibiting British +subjects from playing cards at all aboard ship."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Tommyrot!" said the Englishman.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Not so much so as you might imagine," said the +American. "Of course, I don't mean that literally, and +yet I don't know but what, after all, it might be a good +thing. I have watched the wake of a steamer on the trip +across the Atlantic fifty-two times—that is, I have made +twenty-six round voyages—and I suppose that on these +voyages I have seen as many as a thousand men plucked +at cards. I will venture to assert that 80 per cent. of +them were Englishmen. So you will perceive there is +some justification for what I said about your countrymen +playing cards aboard ship.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I've seen some clever men of your country badly done +by the ocean-going card sharpers, too. At the time your +Lord Lonsdale came to the United States—Violet Cameron +incident, you know—he was a pretty young man, +even if he did at that period of his life stand in urgent +need of a guardian with a heavy club. Well, amid the +newspaper uproar over his landing in this country with +the Cameron, the fact did not come out that Lonsdale +was plucked of $12,000 on the trip over by Ned Turner, +one of the most notable of the older clique of steamship +sharpers. But it's a fact, all the same. I was not +only a board the steamer at the time, but I was one of +a number of men who endeavored to pound some sense +into young Lonsdale's head while the plucking was going +on. But he was a stubborn chap and would listen to no +one, and even when he was quite convinced that Turner +was a sharper, at the end of the voyage he stood for his +big loss like a little man, and became genuinely angry +at some of his English friends aboard who recommended +him to stop payment on the checks he had given Turner +to cover the greater portion of the plucking.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I think Turner had it in mind to do Lonsdale when +he got aboard at Liverpool. Turner had been working +the ships for fifteen years, in spite of the efforts of the +steamship companies to keep him off their vessels, and at +this time he was a man of 40 or thereabouts. Lonsdale +was pretty liberal in the use of wine at this time, and +it was at the buffet that Turner, who was a fine-looking +insinuating and accomplished man, found young Lonsdale +on sailing day. The two men struck up a friendship +from the very first day of the voyage, and it was Lonsdale +himself who first suggested, as he afterward +acknowledged—for he was a manly fellow—the poker +game. Lonsdale had only recently learned the hands in +poker—which is about all any man ever learns about it, +if the truth were told—and he had the poker initiate's enthusiasm +for the game to an exaggerated extent. Before +going any further, I ought to say that Turner always +maintained afterward that in his play with Lonsdale he +was perfectly on the level.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'The young fellow insisted on playing,' said Turner, +'and he couldn't play any more than my aunt in Connecticut. +I played with him, because that's my business. But +I didn't have to play crooked—and I don't admit that I +ever did play crooked, understand—to get his $12,000.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, at any rate young Lonsdale and Turner started +the game on the first day out, and kept it going almost until +the steamer passed Fire Island. Of course Turner beat +him right along. He made no effort to let Lonsdale win +from him at first. He simply played poker and raked in +the young man's money and checks. A lot of us aboard +knew Turner, and those of us who had met Lonsdale +in England got him aside on the second day out and +diplomatically put it to him that he was engaged in a pretty +difficult encounter—that, in brief, Turner was a professional +player of cards. For our pains we were told +that we were too confoundedly officious, that he was +more than 7 years of age and knew what he was about, +and all the rest—you know the talk of a boy; and this +boy was flushed, too, you understand.</p> +<p class="pnext">"At any rate, when the steamer was drawing near +this shore Lonsdale decided that he had had enough—not +that he would not have gone on playing for another seven +days, had the voyage been protracted to that extent, but +he had to get ready to land. Several of us were in the +card-room when the last hand was played. Turner won +the hand and Lonsdale scribbled a check on his American +banker for the amount the hand represented. Then he +looked up at Turner for a minute and said:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Some of my friends here estimate you a little unkindly, +Mr. Turner.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'How's that?' inquired Turner, looking not a whit +surprised.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well,' said Lonsdale, 'they maintain that your skill +at cards affords you something better than a livelihood.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I never denied that,' said Turner coolly.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'In playing with me on this voyage you have employed +skill alone?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'At your suggestion, I have played draw poker with +you for seven days. I understand draw poker, and I +have $12,000 of your money. Do you want it back?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"You see, that was a magnificent bluff on Turner's +part. The young chap, he knew, would not welch.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Oh, if you choose to be insulting'——said Lonsdale, +flushing hotly, and he rose from the card-table and +left the room.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, a couple of elderly Englishmen aboard who +knew Lonsdale and his father before him went to him +then and told him that it would be perfectly proper and +right for him to stop payment on the checks he had given +to Turner, who, they told him in so many words, was +nothing short of a swindler.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Mind your own damned business,' said Lonsdale. +'I'll do nothing of the sort,' and that was the end of it. +It must be confessed that you folks over there have a +wonderfully game fashion of sticking to a bad proposition; +but I, for one, think it is pure vanity. Turner was +kept off the ships of all the lines after that, and I don't +know what became of him.</p> +<p class="pnext">"How they contrived to keep Turner off the ships unless +he really wished to remain off is something that I +can't explain, for it is simply a plain statement of fact +to say that the steamship companies have always found, +and probably always will find, it impossible to prevent +the card sharpers from running on their boats. They +have often tried it. They tried it on one notable occasion, +as I remember, with George McGarrahan, in 1881. +McGarrahan was the Nestor of the steamship card sharpers, +and all the steamship companies knew him. The +president of one of the most prominent transatlantic lines +sent for McGarrahan—who, by the way, has since died +in New York—and told him that he would not be permitted +to travel henceforth on the vessels of the line.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'The deuce you say!' replied McGarrahan. 'How +are you going to stop me?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Refuse to give you passage,' answered the president.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'You will, will you?' said McGarrahan. 'Well, if +you do that, I'll get enough damages out of your line to +make it unnecessary for me ever to touch a card again +as long as I live.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"His position was correct in law, as the president of +this line found out upon investigation. The steamship +company, you understand, is not the regulator of the +habits of its steamers' passengers. If the passengers +don't know any better than to play cards with sharpers, +that is their own lookout. And a steamship company +cannot decline to sell passage to a man because it claims +he is a short-card player. It devolves upon the company +to prove that the man is a card sharper, and the steamship +people know that this is practically impossible, for no +man who is done at cards by one of these men on an +ocean steamship is going to rise in his seat and make announcement +of the fact to the world.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Observation tells me that there are not nearly so +many of these men on the ships now as formerly. The +short-card players who make a business of traveling have +found the trains much more profitable, since the officers +of the steamers got into the habit of going quietly among +the voyagers of a card-playing turn and warning them of +the danger of getting into games with such and such +men. That was the system, and a pretty effectual one, +too, adopted by the steamship companies to squelch the +ocean card sharpers. The result has been that the +sharper can now only make a general campaign of all the +big steamers—and the big steamers are the only steamers +they consider worth working—before the officers know +them, and then their game is dead practically. So that +they find it more profitable to take to the swell trains on +the swell runs, making the same trip rarely, and thus preventing +their countenances from getting too familiar to +the railroad people."</p> +<p class="pnext">"How the deuce do you know all this?" inquired the +Englishman.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well," replied the American, "you may be pretty certain +that I haven't dreamed it. Besides, I figured it that +you required some consolation for the loss of your twenty +guineas. Didn't you?"</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="this-dog-knew-the-game-of-poker"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id22">THIS DOG KNEW THE GAME OF POKER.</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">That, at Least, is What the Dog's Owner Claimed, and the Dog's Owner Ought to Know.</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">"For a fox terrier, that dog don't seem to know a +whole lot," said one of the men in the back room of an +uptown café.</p> +<p class="pnext">The old fox terrier was burying his gray muzzle in +the lap of his master and wagging his stump of a tail +foolishly. His master was a squat, thin-faced man of the +all-aged class; that is, he might have been anywhere from +30 to 55 years of age. Running away from the corners +of his shrewd eyes were many tiny wrinkles. In his get-up +he looked like ready money. He lapped the dog's +clipped ears one over the other and looked reminiscent.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well," said he, replying to the other man's remark, +"I can't say that he does look dead wise and smooth to +the naked eye. He's not one of these here fresh sooner +dogs that wants to put you next to all he knows the first +clatter out o' the box. He's no trick mutt, anyhow. I +raised him from a pup, and I never taught him any of +the jay tricks that these pillow-raised, dog-cracker mutts +go through. What he don't know about standing up in +a corner and hopping over a cane and speaking for grub +and waltzing on his front feet and playing 'possum, and +all that kind o' dinky work, would fill a big book. But +if any of you people think you can give him any points +on the value of hands in a game of poker, then you need +a new dope cook, and that's which."</p> +<p class="pnext">"Poker?" said another of the party, incredulously. +"Say, shoot it in light. Your yen-hok's overworked."</p> +<p class="pnext">"That's what I said—poker," replied the fox terrier's +owner, firmly. "I'm putting you next now, because I +don't make it a business to do pals in a poker game. He's +the best poker dog on the American continent, that mutt. +Can't begin to figure on how many times he's won me +out, and for how much. He's sulked on me two or three +times at critical junctures in games of draw, and given +me the wrong tips, just to get square with me for something +or other, but that was when he was young and +sassy and disposed to work his edge on me. He's been +tipping me off right now for seven straight years, and—well, +I've got a dollar or two scattered around," and the +owner of the poker dog slowly pulled the tinfoil off a +25-cent cigar.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Didn't have a bit o' trouble teaching him the game, +I suppose?" asked one of the men at the table.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well," replied the fox terrier's owner, striking a +match on his diamond-incrusted match safe, "I can't say +that teaching him the hands was altogether a snap. At +first he used to get the kings and jacks mixed once in +a while, and then he had a habit, when he was learning +the game, of getting the eights and tens twisted, too. +But I broke him of those defects after a while. It wasn't +so much trouble teaching him the value of the hands in +poker as it was to fix up a sign manual by which he could +express himself and tip me off on the hands held by the +other fellows. But patience was my long suit in teaching +that dog the game of poker, and in less than a year after +I showed him the first pack of cards he ever saw, he was +able to put me onto the worth of every hand around a +table without any of the marks falling to the scheme. His +method of communicating such information to me during +the progress of a game is a bit involved and intricate, and +we've got a lot of little code signs that would require too +much elaboration in the explaining, but I'll just give you +a little idea of the way the thing works.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Suppose I'm sitting in a four-handed game. The dog +is nosing around the room, not in any ostentatious kind +of way and not getting himself noticed at all by the other +three in the game. A hand is dished out. The dog +noiselessly rubbernecks behind the chair of the first player +on his route. The first player, we'll say, has got a pair +of sevens, and I've got my eye on the dog. The dog +quietly gapes twice, to indicate that player No. 1 has a +pair, and then blinks both of his eyes seven times in +rapid succession. See? Of course I know then that No. +1 has only got a pair of bum sevens. I pretend to scan +my hand, while the dog quietly gets behind the chair of +player No. 2. We'll say No. 2 has three queens. The +dog passes his right paw over his right eye three times. +If it's three kings, left paw over his left eye three times. +If it's three bullets he puts his left paw at his nose and +holds it there for a second, and, if three jacks, his right +paw at his nose. Savvy? And so on. He's got the +whole manual and code worked out to a stretch finish. If +No. 3 has got a pat flush he closes his left eye and keeps +it closed until he sees I'm noticing him. If No. 3 has got +a pat full house he shuts up his right eye in the same +way.</p> +<p class="pnext">"This, of course, is only preliminary and it only puts +me next to what the marks around the table have got in +their hands before the draw. If they're too well fixed for +me before the draw, of course I drop out of it there and +then. But if I've got a pretty good fist full myself and +am as good as any of 'em before the draw, why of course +I draw to my hand. Just as quick as all the fellows that +stay in pick up the cards they've drawn the dog does his +little act all over again and tips me off on those that have +filled their hands. Makes the game dead easy, don't it? +If I wanted to play the scheme to its limit, which would +be a fool trick and probably result in that dog getting +himself stuffed and mounted by some loser getting next +to his gag, I'd have too much money. But I never went +into it too heavy. I've let good things take coin off me so +fast that I almost got pneumonia, and me knowing all +the time just what they had in their hands. The Chinese +bluffs that some of 'em have put up, too! Of course I'd +only play off on 'em for a while, just long enough to +make them look on me as something easy, and then me +and the dog'd waltz in and chew their manes off close to +the hide.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Yes, siree, that dog's been a sure enough meal ticket +for me for a long while. But, as I told you a while +back, he sulked on me two or three times and gave me +the wrong steer when he was young and perky and hot +over something or other, and I got hurt on these occasions, +for a fact. Remember one of those times particularly. +I'd been playing for several nights in succession +with three young jays of real estate men out in Minneapolis +and letting 'em take slathers of it off me just to +get them interested. All three of 'em had gobs of the +green and I figured on making 'em all move out to Seattle +or somewhere by the time me and the dog got through +with them. The mutt was only a two-year-old then, but +he was playing mighty fine poker, and these three Minneapolis +ducks looked like a fine clean-up. On the afternoon +of the fourth night that we got together in +the game I'd got hot over the mutt chewing one of my +hats all to pieces—fox terriers are worse than goats for +chewing things up—and I'd given him three or four good +raps over the side of the head. He didn't like this a little +bit—I could see that. He wouldn't have much to do with +me for the remainder of the afternoon and I couldn't con +him into becoming friendly again, either. He just +looked at me out of the tail of his eye, as much as to +say, 'I'm going to throw you the first chance I get,' but +of course I couldn't figure that he'd carry his sulkiness +into the game of draw that night, when I intended to +begin on my three good things and crimp up their wallets.</p> +<p class="pnext">"That night I took the mutt with me, as usual, to the +house of one of the good things, where we played. I +couldn't get the dog to be very chummy with me, though, +even after spending a large part of the afternoon trying +to soft soap him. The licking I had given him still +rankled within him, but I figured that he would forget all +about it in the excitement of the game after we got going. +I was more than ever confident that he was all +right when he tipped me off right on the first dozen +rounds of hands, during which I picked out most of the +winnings.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I dealt the thirteenth mess myself and when the two +beyond the ante man declined to stay I made it a jackpot, +having the buck. I caught three aces and the pot +looked nice for me, even without the mutt to joggle me +along. The man after the dealer opened it, the jay next +to him stayed and so did I, of course. The dealer stayed +with a rush and it looked like a nice, neat jack to win—for +it was a $100 limit game and all of the three good things +thought they knew how to play poker. The dog tipped +me off that the man who opened the pot had three fours, +the chap next to him two pairs and the dealer a pair of +kings. I drew to my hand, of course, and when the guy +that opened the pot stood pat I said to myself, 'That's a +pretty cold bluff that duck's making, standing pat on his +three fours.' The mutt's tips told me, of course, that I +had 'em all topped and I just lay back and listened to +their bets, knocking heaps off my chip piles and raising +'em right along with all the confidence in the world.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I commenced to admire that pot-opener with the three +fours who had stood pat for a bluff when he kept raising +it the limit. Between us we raised the other two out after +it had gone around a number of times, and then that +geezer with the three fours sat back to bluff me out, as +I thought. I wasn't a bit worried by the cool, confident +look on his mug, for I knew that that mutt of mine never +made any mistakes, and I knew that I had him beat. +When there was $3,800 in the pot I got to the end of my +chips, and, as it was table stakes and we had arranged +that no more chips could be bought during the playing +of a hand, I called the pot opener, at the same time chucking +down my three bullets, and was fixing to haul in the +pot.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Hold on there a minute,' said the man with the three +fours—as I thought—when he saw me reaching for the +pot, 'I've got a nice pat straight, from one to five,' and +he showed the cards up in their order on the table.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'The dust is yours,' said I, choking back a lot of +cuss words, and just then I looked behind the chair of +the winner and caught the eye of that dog. If there +wasn't a gleam of triumph in his eye, damme! He looked +square back at me for ten straight seconds, as much as +to say, 'You didn't think I'd dish you in the game, did +you?' and then he walked over in front of the fireplace, +plunked himself down, and that was the finish of that +four-handed game. I knew that I couldn't get any good +out of the dog for the rest of that night, and I did a sudden +watch-studying act, told the jays of a forgotten +engagement, and got out. I had expected to clean up about +$10,000 out of those three jays, and durned if I didn't +quit more'n $2,000 loser on account of that dog, for I had +only begun to win back what I had let them take away +from me when the mutt turned me down. The mutt followed +me back to the hotel with a sulky eye, as if he expected +to be clubbed for his little game of crooked steering, +but you can gamble that I cut out the clubbing so far +as he was concerned for good. I had won him back +inside of a week or so, and he never did me dirt on calling +the turn after that.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Me and the dog were covering Kansas City, St. Louis, +Memphis, and that circuit about three years ago, taking +it off easy ones in comfortable hunks, when I stacked +up against a pretty wise one. It was in Knoxville, where +I had got together a playing squad of three young ones +that looked ripe for plucking. I got into 'em pretty fairly +after a week's work, and the mutt was in great form. +One of the good things—the one that I got into the hole +worse than any of the others—seemed to be taking a +great interest in the mutt after he had been stacking up, +a bad loser, against our game for ten days or so, but there +wasn't a pin-head of suspicion in his face. He just +seemed to like to watch the dog's rubber-necking antics, +and one night, when he was dropping slathers of it to +me, he studied the moves of the dog with unusual intentness.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'You ought to teach that poodle how to play draw,' +said he to me, and I was beginning to fear he was getting +next. But he kept on looking as moon-faced and easy as +usual and losing right along, though I couldn't help noticing +how carefully he watched the moves of the mutt.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The next night, when we again sat down at the game, +I again noticed that the young geezer had his eye on +the dog's moves behind the chairs. I also noticed that +he generally stayed when I fell out after the draw, and +that when he did stay, with me out, he very often took big +hunks out of the other two young fellows. I couldn't +quite get next to this, the duck looked such a Rube. +Finally a big jack came around, and I, only having eight +high, kept out of it. One of the other young fellows +opened the pot, the man next to him stayed, and the +moon-faced Rube, who had been watching my dog so +carefully, raised the both of 'em before the draw. It was +a good, stiff raise he gave 'em, at that. They stood it +and stayed in. They bet around for fifteen minutes, and +then the slob who had been studying the mutt was called +by both of them, and beat them both out with his queen +full on sixes. I thought that was kind o' queer, especially +in view of his earnest study of my poodle, and so +I got cold feet in order to have a chance to think the +thing over. Oddly enough, the moon-faced-looking dub +got cold feet at the same time, and was out on the street +with me a little while later. We had walked a block or +so, chinning, when he gives me a dig in the slats, and +says he, grinning:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Great dog, that, of yours.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"I turned around and sized him up.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Pretty fair mutt,' said I.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Only thing about him is,' went on this soft-looking +guy that you wouldn't think knew the difference between +sand and slag, 'he wants to change his code. It took me +a week to get next to it, but I had it safe to-night, all +right. I'm only $2,000 ahead on the night's play, which +makes me $500 more than even. You want to teach the +mutt new business before some other duck that looks +as much like a dead one as I do comes along, tumbles to +the dog's wig-wag system, and does you out of a good +bundle. By the way,' he wound up, 'what kennel did +that one come from? Where's the rest of the litter? I'd +like to have a brother of him.' Queer how he got onto +the game, wasn't it?"</p> +<p class="pnext">"Yes, very," replied the man who had doubted the fox +terrier's possession of any intelligence.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="wind-up-of-a-train-game-of-poker"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id23">WIND-UP OF A TRAIN GAME OF POKER.</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">One of the Players Hadn't Long to Live, Anyhow, and So He Took a Hand for a Final Deal.</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">"I haven't played any cards on railroad trains, even +with friends, for the past seven years," said Joe Pinckney, +the Boston traveling man who sells bridges and +trestles in every land, at a New York hotel the other night, +"and it's more than certain that, for the remainder of my +string, I shall never again sit into a train game, whether +it's old maid, casino, whist or draw—especially draw. I +used to play cards most of the time when I was on the road +just to relieve the monotony of traveling. I don't recall +that it ever cost me much, for I generally broke even and +often a little ahead on a years' play. I very rarely sat +into a game in which all of the other players were strangers +to me, especially when the game was draw or something +else at so much a corner, and so I never got done +out of a cent.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I know so many traveling men that a drummer friend +of mine has an even money bet with me that I won't be +able to board a single train, anywhere in this country, for +the space of a year, without my being greeted by some traveling +chap with whom I am acquainted, and he wins up to +date, though the bet was made more than eight months +ago. So that, when I used to be in the habit of playing +cards on the trains I always had some fellow or fellows on +the other side of the table that I knew to be on the level. +But I had an experience on a Western train seven years +ago that sort o' soured me on the train game; in fact, +that experience knocked a good deal of the poker enthusiasm +out of me, and since then, whenever I've got into a +game with friends or acquaintances in a hotel room, I've +sized them up pretty carefully to see if they were all +robust men. Maybe you don't understand what possible +connection there can be between physical robustness and +the game of American draw just now, but you'll understand +it when I tell you of this experience.</p> +<p class="pnext">"In the spring of 1891 I got aboard the night train +of the 'Q,' Chicago to Denver. The train left Chicago +at 9 o'clock at that time. When I was seven years younger +than I am now I never sought a sleeper bunk until 1 or +2 in the morning, and when I found that there wasn't +a man on this sleeper with whom I had ever a bowing +acquaintance I felt a bit lonesome. I started through the +train to hunt up the news butcher to get from him a +bunch of traveling literature, and in the car ahead of +me I found Tom Danforth, the Michigan stove man, an +old traveling pal of mine. I sat down to have a talk with +Tom when along came George Dunwoody, the Chicago +perfumery man, who had also paralleled me a lot of times +on trips. Inside of four minutes I had pulled both of +'em back to my car and we had a game of cut-throat draw +under way in the smoking compartment. We started in +at quarter ante and dollar limit, but when I pulled 'way +ahead of of both of them within an hour or so and they +struck for dollar ante and five-dollar limit, I was agreeable.</p> +<p class="pnext">"We were plugging along at this game, all three of +us going pretty slow, and both of them gradually getting +back the money I had won in the smaller game, when a +tall, very thin and very gaunt-looking young fellow of +about thirty entered the smoking compartment and +dropped into a seat with the air of a very tired man. I +sat facing the entrance to the compartment, and I thought +when I saw the man's emaciated condition and the two +bright spots on his cheekbones, 'Old man, you've pretty +nearly arrived at your finish, and if you're making for +Denver now I think you're a bit too late.' My two friends +didn't see the consumptive when he entered the room, +for their backs were turned to the door, but when, while +I was dealing the cards, the new arrival put his hand to +his mouth and gave a couple of short, hacking coughs, +Dunwoody turned around suddenly and looked at him.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Why, hello there, Fatty,' exclaimed Dunwoody, holding +out his hand to the emaciated man, 'where are you +going? Denver? Why, I thought you were there long +ago? Didn't I tell you last fall to go there or to Arizona +for the winter? D'ye mean to say that you've been +in Chicago all winter with that half a lung and that bark +o' yours? How are you now, anyhow, Fat?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"The emaciated man smiled the weary smile of the +consumptive.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Oh, I'm all right, George,' he said, sort o' hanging +on to Dunwoody's hand. 'Going out to Denver to croak +this trip, I guess. Didn't want to go, but my people got +after me and they're chasing me out there. I wanted +them to let me stay in Chicago and make the finish there, +but they wouldn't stand for it. My mother and one of +my sisters are coming along after me next week.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Finish? What are you giving us, Fatty?' asked +Dunwoody, good-naturedly, but not with a great amount +of belief in his own words, I imagine. 'You'll be selling +terra cotta tiles when the rest of us'll be wearing skull +caps and cloth shoes. Cut out the finish talk. You look +pretty husky, all right.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Oh, I'm husky all right,' said the consumptive, with +another weary smile, and then he had another coughing +spell. When that was over Dunwoody introduced him +to us.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Ed, alias Fatty, Crowhurst,' was Dunwoody's way +of introducing him. 'Sells tiles, waterworks pipes and +conduits. Called Fatty because he's nearly six and a +half feet high, has never weighed more than thirty-seven +pounds (give or take a few), and has never since any one +knew him had more'n half a lung. Thinks he's sick, and +has laid himself on the shelf for over a year past. No +sicker than I am. Used to have the record west of the +Alleghanies for cigarette smoking. You've cut the cigarettes +out, haven't you, Fat?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"For reply the consumptive pulled out a gold cigarette +case, extracted a cigarette therefrom and lit it. It was +a queer thing to see a man in his state of health smoking +a cigarette. Dunwoody's eyes stuck out over it.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well, if you ain't a case of perambulating, lingering +suicide, Fatty, I never saw one,' said he to his friend.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'It's all one,' was the reply. 'It's too much punishment +to give 'em up, and it wouldn't make any difference +anyhow.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"I had meanwhile dished the hands out, and after my +two friends had drawn cards and I made a small bet they +threw up their hands.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Draw, eh?' said the emaciated man, addressing Dunwoody. +'How about making it four-handed?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Oh, you'd better take it out in sleeping, Fat,' replied +Dunwoody. 'You look just a bit tired, and we're going +to make a night of it, most likely, with whisky trimmings. +You can't do that very well without hurting yourself, and +if you came in and we got into you you'd feel like playing +until you evened up, and 'ud get no rest. Better not +come in, Fat. Better hit your bunk for a long snooze. +We'll have breakfast together when they hitch on the +dining car at Council Bluffs.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I haven't sat into a game of draw for a long while,' +said Dunwoody's friend, 'and I'd rather play than eat.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"There was a bit of pathos in that remark, I thought, +and I kicked Dunwoody under the table.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well, jump in then, Fatty,' said Dunwoody, and the +poor chap drew a chair up to the table with a look of +pleasure on his drawn, hollow face, with its two brightly +burning spots on the cheekbones.</p> +<p class="pnext">"It soon became apparent that Dunwoody's fear about +our 'getting into' the consumptive didn't stand any show +whatever of being realized. The emaciated man was an +almighty good poker player, nervy, cool, and cautious, +and yet a good bit audacious at that. I caught him four-flushing +and bluffing on it several times, but he got my +money right along in the general play, all the same, and +after an hour's play he had the whole three of us on the +run. I was about $100 to the rear, and Dunwoody and +Danforth had each contributed a bit more than that to the +consumptive's stack of chips. The fact was, he simply +outclassed the three of us as a poker player—and, by the +way, I wonder why it is that men that have got something +the matter with their lungs are invariably such rattling +good poker players? I've noticed this right along. +I never yet sat into a poker game with a man that had +consumption in one stage or another of it that he didn't +make me smoke a pipe for a spell. That would be a +good one to spring on some medical sharp for an explanation.</p> +<p class="pnext">"By the time midnight came around Dunwoody's +friend with the pulmonary trouble had won about half as +much again from us, and Dunwoody began to look at his +watch nervously. The three of us were taking a little +nip at frequent intervals, just enough to brush the cobwebs +away, but the sick-looking man didn't touch a drop. +He smoked one cigarette after another, however, inhaling +the smoke into his shrunken lungs, and the sight made +all of us feel sorry, I guess, for the foolhardiness of the +man. Finally Dunwoody looked at his watch and then +raised his eyes and took a survey of the countenance of +the consumptive, which was overspread with a deep flush. +The consumptive's eyes were extraordinarily bright, too.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Fatty,' said Dunwoody, 'cash in and go to bed. +'You've had enough of this. Poker and 112 cigarettes +for a one-lunger bound for Colorado for his health! Cash +in and skip!'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'No, I don't want to quit, George,' said the consumptive. +'I haven't had anything like enough yet. What's +more, I've got all of you fellows too much in the hole. +I only wanted to come in for the fun of it, anyhow, and +here I am with a lot of the coin of the three of you. I'll +just play on until this pay streak deserts me and give you +fellows a chance to win out.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"When he finished saying this the man with the wasted +lungs had another violent spell of coughing and Dunwoody +looked worried. But he gave in.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'All right, Fat,' he said, 'do as you derned please, but +I don't want to be boxing you up and shipping you back +to the lake front.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Then the game proceeded. I don't think any of us +felt exactly right, playing with a man who looked as if +his days were as short-numbered as a child's multiplication +table, but maybe the fact that he was such a comfortable +winner from us mitigated our sympathy for him +just a little bit. He kept on winning steadily for the next +hour, and about half past 1 in the morning there was a +good-sized jackpot. It went around half a dozen times, +all of us sweetening it for five every time the deal +passed, and finally, on the seventh deal, which was the +consumptive's, Danforth, who sat on his left, opened the +pot. I stayed, and so did Dunwoody. When it was up +to the dealer he nodded his head to indicate that he +would stay. We were all looking at him, and we noticed +that he had gone pale. It was noticeable after the deep +flush that had covered his face when he entered.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Danforth took two cards. I drew honestly and to +my hand, which had a pair of kings in it, and I caught +another one. Dunwoody asked for three and then the +dealer put the deck down beside him.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'How many is the dealer dishing himself?' we all +happened to ask in chorus.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'None,' answered the sick man, who seemed to be +getting paler all the time.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Pat, hey, Fatty?' said Dunwoody. 'Must be pretty +well fixed, or, say, are you woozy enough to try a bluff on +this? You don't expect to bluff Danforth out of his own +pot?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"The consumptive only smiled a wan smile.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well, I hope you are well fixed,' went on Dunwoody, +'for it's your last hand. I'm going to send you to your +bunk as soon as I win this jack.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'The limit,' said Danforth, the pot-opener, skating +five white chips into the center.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Five more,' said I, putting the chips in.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I'll call both of you,' said Dunwoody, shoving ten +chips into the pile.</p> +<p class="pnext">"It was up to Dunwoody's consumptive friend. He +opened his lips to speak and little dabs of blood appeared +at both corners of his mouth. His head fell back and +at the same time the cards in his hands fell face up on +the table. The hand was an ace high flush of diamonds. +Dunwoody was standing over him in an instant, and Danforth +and I both jumped up. Dunwoody wiped the blood +away from the man's mouth with his handkerchief and +then put the back of his hand on the man's face.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'It's cold,' said Dunwoody, with a queer look.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Then he placed his ear to his friend's heart. We +waited for him to look up with a good deal of suspense. +He raised his head after about thirty seconds.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Crowhurst's dead,' was all he said.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Dunwoody telegraphed ahead for an undertaker to +meet the train at Omaha. He gathered up the cards, too, +and the chips.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Crowhurst won that pot,' he whispered to us. 'His +pat flush beat all of our threes.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Dunwoody was banker and he cashed all of the dead +man's chips. Then he took Crowhurst's body back from +Omaha to Chicago in a box. Dunwoody handed the $580 +the dead man had won from us to his mother, telling her +that her son had given him the money to keep for him +before turning into his sleeper bunk.</p> +<p class="pnext">"That," concluded the man who sells bridges and trestles, +"is the reason I've cut card-playing on trains for +the past seven years."</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="queer-pacific-coast-poker"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id24">QUEER PACIFIC COAST POKER.</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">When You Get into a Game of Draw in California It Is Well to Ascertain the Rules in Advance.</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">"Before sitting into a game of poker anywhere near +tidewater out on the Pacific coast you'll always find it a +pretty good scheme to make a few preliminary inquiries +of your fellow players as to the kind of poker you're expected +to mix up with," said a traveling man who had +recently returned to the East after a tour on the Slope. +"Because I neglected to do this myself on several occasions +I got into all sorts of embarrassing situations and +all colors of poker trouble all the way from Portland, +Ore., to San Diego, Cal., and the fellows with whom I +did little stunts at draw—all good people, business men +I met with through letters—put me down as the worst +jay in a game of cards that ever crossed the Rocky Mountains. +The folks out there think we're all jays back here, +anyhow, if for no other reason than that we haven't +enough brains to migrate in a body to the Pacific Slope, +but they complacently told me that I was the worst of +the species they had ever seen, simply because I couldn't +seem to get the hang of the queer old game they call poker +out in that country.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The game they dub poker out there isn't poker at all, +in my opinion. It's a hybrid sort of affair, full of fancy +moves that must have been chucked into the original +game by early California vaqueros with such a taste for +embellishment that they had to tack gilt fringe on to their +pants and to encircle their hats with silver cable. Whatever +they call it, it's not American draw poker by a +darned sight. The kind of poker that I was raised on—the +real thing, the article of draw that we play on this +side of the Alleghanies—doesn't take any more account +of the joker, for instance, than it does of the card case; +but out in California they think a man's plumb blind crazy +if he registers a kick over having the joker in the deck. +I'd as lief play old maid or grab for corn-silk cigarettes +as play draw poker with the joker mixed up in it; but +out there I had to take the game as it was served up, +and, as between poker with a joker and no poker at +all, I, of course, accepted the lesser of the two evils and +played. But I got dumped on the game for about 2,000 +miles of coast line, and that, too, by people who didn't +have to count themselves because they were so many at +the game. The trouble was that I played the game of draw +that I was brought up on and they played their crossbred +game, and the result was just about as queer as it +would be to see a baseball pitcher chucking up a Rugby +football to a cricket batsman with a fence picket in his +hands.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'll not forget my first run-in with this poker-joker +idea. This was my first visit to the slope, you know and, +although I'd often heard vaguely that young 'uns, playing +draw for beans or tin tags, once in a while shoved +the joker into the pack for the fun of the thing. I, of +course, never dreamed that rational adult human beings +in any quarter of the earth could have the nerve to inflict +such a dismal outrage upon the noble game of draw as +to slap the joker into a poker deck. But I found out different +the very first game of draw that I sat into out in +San Francisco.</p> +<p class="pnext">"It was a four-handed game, and I was the only Eastern +man in the bunch. The other three fellows were +business men who belong to the Native Sons' organization, +which accounts for the weird brand of poker they +played. They played what was taught 'em in their youth +out there; didn't know any better, and thought, and no +doubt still think, that their game is right.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I was banker, and dished up the first hand. It was +25 cents ante and $5 limit. I gave myself two rattling +good pairs, kings up on tens. All of the other fellows +stayed, and the man on my right made it a couple of +dollars more to draw cards. This let two of 'em out of +it, but I thought my two pairs were good enough for a +$2 raise, and so I played with the raiser. He drew one +card, and so, of course, did I. It was his bet, and he +came at me on the double with the limit. I'd caught another +king, and had as neat-looking a full house as a +man needs to have in any kind of a game.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Five more'n you,' said I, and we shuttled the limit +back and forth until we each had about $50 in the pot. +Said I to myself, 'I've got you beat, my boy, for the +percentage of the game is 'way against your holding +fours against my full hand, especially on the first clatter +out of the box, and, even if you've filled those two pairs +of yours—which you probably haven't, for the percentage +is plumb against you—you certainly haven't got aces on +top.' Now, that was good poker reasoning, the kind of +reasoning that has kept me necktie and peanut money +ahead of the game anyway for twenty years or so, and +I gave him the raise-back just as often as he threw it +at me.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Finally,' said he, 'we are getting out of our depth +and beyond the breaker line, ain't we? I've got you +man-handled, but you junipers from the East never can +feel the hunch when you are licked, and so I'll skate in +my little five and call you.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"We each had about $80 in the pot then.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I spread out my three royal gentlemen topping the +pair of tens, and was just about to make some good-natured +crack about getting a hoe to scoop in my winnings +on the first hand, when he spread out his hand and +raked in the pot with a smile. His hand consisted of a +pair of aces up on a pair of sixes and the joker.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'What the dickens are you doing there?' I asked him +when he raked in the pot. 'Can't you see it's a misdeal? +I forgot to take the joker out of the deck.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Misdeal nothing,' he said, still smiling. 'You had +a good hand all right, but aces beat kings, you know, +anywhere from Tuolume to Tucson.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Yes,' said I, 'but you've only got aces up, and I've +got a full hand, kings up, and it's a misdeal, anyhow'——</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, they all looked at me like they thought I ought +to be in a lunatic asylum.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Misdeal?' said my friend who had swiped the pot. +'What the deuce are you giving us, anyhow? I caught +the joker on the draw, and it just filled my hand—three +aces and a pair of sixes. Don't an ace-full beat a king-full +in that desolate Atlantic coast region you hail from?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'You mean you call the joker an ace?' said I, the +thing beginning to dawn upon me.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The three fellows gazed at me as if they were trying +to find out if I was drunk or not.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Why, do you mean to say,' said the man I had played +with, 'that you don't know that in poker the joker is +any old thing you choose to make it—that, when you get +it either on the deal or on the draw, you can call it anything +you want to call it to eke out a pair, flush, full house +or anything else? Tell you what, old man, you need +sleep. You've been working too hard. Turn in and +have a long night of it.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"I couldn't help but laugh.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well,' said I, 'you people may call this joker-jiggling +poker, but somehow or another it suggests tag and +I-spy and little girls singing "London Bridge is falling +down" to me. Why in the devil don't you play poker +with a pinochle deck and be done with it? Come on, and +we'll build card houses, or what's the matter with playing +casino for chalk or pin-wheels?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Why, don't you benighted people back East use the +joker?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Yes,' said I, 'we do. We always give the joker in +a new deck to babies in arms to cut their teeth on.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Another queer kink in the slope game of draw is +that straights don't go. I've been catching occasional +pat straights and drawing to 'em all my life, and I think +the straight is one of the prettiest plays in poker. In +playing straights, if the chap across the table draws one +card, you've got the fun of trying to figure out whether +he's drawing to a couple of pairs or bobbing to a straight +or a flush, and it's interesting work. If he stands pat, +it's up to you to determine by the mind-reading process +whether he's simply bluffing or actually has a pat straight +or full hand or flush in his paws.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, out on the coast they've heard occasional rumors +of such things as straights being played somewhere +or another in the game of draw, but you won't meet one +coast man in a hundred that knows precisely what the +straight consists of and what the chances are of a man's +getting a pat straight or of filling a one-ended or double-ended +straight. As for playing straights, they've never +even dreamed of such an absurdity. I found that out in +the second game of draw I got into out there.</p> +<p class="pnext">"It was in Portland, and another four-handed game, +the other three fellows being business men also. We +played along for a while without my running into any +snags sticking out of the coast game, and then I got on +the deal four cards that had in them the making of a +corking good straight, capable of being filled at either +end, from nine up to queen, so that either an eight or a +king on the draw would have fixed me all right. I decided +to draw to it just for luck, although all three of the +fellows were in and had stood a rise before the draw. +When I caught my king I was glad I had decided to draw +to my straight. A king-high straight is a pretty good mess +of cards in any man's game of draw as we know draw +back in these parts.</p> +<p class="pnext">"There was a heap of betting on that round, and, of +course, with that clipper-built straight of mine, I wasn't +going to let any of 'em put it on me. I met every raise +and stuck so persistently and confidently that the whole +three of them began to regard me as the main guy so far +as that deal was concerned and look a bit afraid of me. +The last time I raised it they kind o' exchanged looks, +and the man at my left called me. The other two men +followed suit, and there was a general laying down of +hands. The man at my left had three eights, the fellow +next to him aces up on treys, and the man at my right +three sixes. I projected my right arm to sweep in the +good-sized pot after spreading out my king-high straight.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Hold up, there!' they all yelled at me at once. +'What's all this? What are you trying to do—hypnotize +us?' And the man who had laid down his three eights +made a reach for the pot.</p> +<p class="pnext">"It was now my turn to think the whole three of +'em looney.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Is there so much smoke in here,' said I, 'that you +three people can't perceive that I've got a king-high +straight?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Straight?' said the man with the three eights. +'Straight be damned! You've got one king up on nothing. +How old are you, anyhow—seven? Straight? +Listen to him!' And the three of 'em gave the hoarse +hoot in chorus. I asked 'em to get around me and pinch +me, because I wanted to find out if I was dreaming or +not, but they were too busy leaning back in their chairs +and roaring like so many wild asses of the woods to pay +any attention to me. That's what I got for not inquiring +beforehand into the kind of draw I stacked up against +in Portland.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The next poker knock I got was down in Santa Barbara. +I got into a game of draw with three hotel clerks, +all good fellows, but all addicted to the nursery poker +they play out there, and again I forgot to nail 'em up +against the wall and make 'em exude information about +the kind of game they purposed playing. We got along +all right for an hour or so, and at the end of the time +I was comfortably well ahead of the game. It kind o' +tickled me, too, when I caught the joker on the draw +three or four times and beat 'em out on their own game— +which is a silly game, and about as brainy as bean-bag, +all the same. I also kept away from my inclination to +draw to straights, and, having made this much progress, +I really didn't think I was in for any more rude and costly +surprises in the game. That's where I did the leap-year +figuring.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I gave myself a neat mess of clubs—four of them—with +the ace for a capstone. I have always been lucky +in bobbing to flushes, and this looked good. Two of the +other fellows drew two cards each, and the other man +asked for one. I gave myself another club, and tried to +look gloomy and depressed. An ace-high flush has always +been good enough for me on this side of the +continent, and I bet it for all it was worth. The three hotel +clerks evidently thought they were pretty well fixed, too, +and, although there was nothing frantic about the betting, +it was nice and smooth and even, and the pot grew in a +way that suited me down to the ground. When it got so +large on five-dollar raises as we thought it ought to be +there was a general suggestion for a call and a show-down. +Two of my fellow players had threes, small +ones, and the other two pairs that we wouldn't stay +with very long back in this neck of the woods. Well, I +flashed my ace-high flush of clubs on them, and was just +about to say something about easy money when the man +with the best threes scooped in the pot.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Must have left your specs at home, my boy,' said I, +thinking he was only fooling. 'Pass that pile over.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'For why?' said he.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Then I looked him over and saw that he was serious.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'For why?' I repeated. 'Well, the instructors at +whose feet I sat to learn what is learnable about the game +of draw poker always taught me to believe that a flush is +better than threes.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Yes,' said he, 'but didn't you draw a card?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'What the devil difference does that make?' I inquired.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Oh,' said he patronizingly, 'I see you're a bit new +at the game. You see, you can't draw to flushes. You've +got to hold 'em pat.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, that was the worst jab I had yet received, but I +had to stand for it, on the 'do-as-the-Romans-do' principle.</p> +<p class="pnext">"In San Diego I got into a game with some fellows +who were so warm that they wouldn't play anything but +jack-pots. At the start-off of the game—the first hand—none +of the four of us could open it. It went around +three times, and on the fourth deal I caught a pair of +queens. Two of the other fellows stayed. I caught another +queen, and played the hand for all it was worth. +When I was called I showed down my hand, and had 'em +both beat.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Foul hand,' said they. 'You didn't have openers,' +and they looked at me suspiciously.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'The dickens you say!' said I. 'I went in with a +pair of queens and caught another one—there they are.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'But you needed aces,' said they, all at once. 'It +went around four times, and jack-pots are progressive, of +course. D'ye mean to say you didn't know that? Sorry, +old man, that we'll have to split the pot.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Are they always progressive out here?' I asked.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Always,' they answered, and that settled it. The +pot was split."</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="the-proper-time-to-get-cold-feet"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id25">THE PROPER TIME TO GET "COLD FEET."</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">Few Gamblers Perceive "the Psychological Moment" For Quitting Play and Retiring Rich.</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">An old man whose mind is still alert, and the movements +of whose tall, somewhat stooped body are as free +and spry as those of many a man fifty years his junior, is +Cole Martin, once the most famous faro dealer in this +country. He slipped the cards out of the box for the +statesmen with a penchant for gaming who lived in Washington +fifty, forty, and thirty years ago, when it was +deemed no disgrace for the strong men of the land to +try an occasional buck at the tiger, openly and above +board. Martin is now verging upon 80 years of age, +and even to the present generation of Washingtonians his +white-bearded countenance is very familiar. His age +does not tell upon him, and his commerce among men is +about as wide now, he says, as it was back in the fifties. +He had a great deal of money at one time in his career, +but most of it went by the board. He had the caution +to purchase an annuity for himself a good many years +ago, and upon this he lives comfortably. He has passed +most of his life in Washington, but before and after +the war of the rebellion he had adventures in many parts +of the United States where gaming was at its highest. +He is a mine of curious, first-hand information about +the statesmen-gamesters who were great figures in the +national life of the country before the war, and the local +newspaper have published many of his reminiscences of +this sort. He is not garrulous, but once he gets into his +stride and the company is congenial he talks well and +entertainingly. He was speaking recently of the case of +the well-known young American turf plunger who, after +having beaten the English racing game to the tune of +$150,000 a few weeks ago, waded in so recklessly that, +only a short time later, he quit $90,000 to the bad.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Another example of the chance taker who has not +mastered the fine science of quitting," was his way of +summing it up. "That seems to be the most difficult +point in the gambling business—to know just the right +time to quit. Few men master it. I never did, myself. +I wish I had. Any fool can go on playing when he is +away ahead of his game, but it takes a man of unusual +strength of character, perception and foresight to knock +off when, after riding a high tide, he notices that it begins +to ebb. The scientists, I believe, talk of a 'psychological +moment.' I don't know of any business in +life in which the psychological moment plays a greater +part than it does in gambling. Most of this country's +old-time gamesters have died, as you know, very poor, or, +worse, poverty-stricken. I never hear of the death of +one of them leaving not enough money behind to have +his body put into the ground that I don't recall the time +when he had tens or hundreds of thousands. The gambler +by profession has many a psychological moment in +the course of his career, but he rarely takes advantages of +them. He goes on dabbling at a percentage that his common-sense +tells him is against him, and that he has only +temporarily beaten, and after a while he finds himself +broke; then he asks himself remorsefully why he didn't +break off when he was on top of the wave. I have known +a few professional gamblers who knew just when to quit. +Some of them are still alive, old men like myself, and +they are well fixed. Those of them who are dead left +good sums of money behind them.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I once saw George Plantagenet, one of the best +known of the New Orleans gamblers before the war, win +$60,000 in an afternoon's play at faro. This was in Memphis. +He cashed in and left the bank. After supper he +returned with all of the money and he began to buck +the king. He played it open every time and the king +lost eight straight times in two deals. That cost Plantagenet +$20,000 of his winnings. The lid had been taken +off the game for him. When the dealer pulled out the +eighth straight losing king Plantagenet cashed in. He +was frank enough to admit that he had cold feet.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'While freely acknowledging that I am more or +less of a d—d fool,' he said coolly, 'I strive for the reputation +of knowing when I've got enough, even of a good +thing. I quit. This is just my time to quit. If the box +were only depleting me gradually but surely I don't doubt +that I'd go until I was all up. But I can see legible handwriting +on the wall from as considerable a distance as +my neighbors, and when I'm on top, as I am now, well +and comfortably, and eight straight kings range themselves +against me on the left hand side of the layout, +that's the kind of a signal I'm waiting for, and I pass. +I'll bet any man on the side, just for a flyer, $5,000 that +the next king out of the box wins, but no more faro.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Frank Wooton, the proprietor of the layout, was +standing by when Plantagenet made this little talk.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'You are wise in your generation, George,' said he. +'Now, it is about a 10 to 1 shot against the king losing +again. Consequently you can afford to give me at least +2 to 1 on that proposition. I'll bet you $2,500 to $5,000 +that the king does lose the next time out.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Taken,' said Plantagenet, covering Wooton's money, +and the crowd gathered round to watch the dealer riffle +the cards. The box was fully half out before a king +showed, and it showed on the losing side—nine straight. +Wooton pulled down the side bet.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Which I may remark,' said Plantagenet with the +greatest coolness, 'that this ninth consecutive lose of the +king simply confirms and makes good the hunch I had to +quit when it lost the eighth time. But I will go a bit +further to prove that my inspiration to quit is a proper +and sensible one. I will bet you $1,000 that I can buck +your bank now with dummy chips representing all of +my winnings and the roll I originally started with, and +that, although I shall play as carefully and as cautiously +and as earnestly as I would did the dummy chips really +represent money, I shall lose every stack within two +hours.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Plantagenet and Wooton were old friends, and the +latter knew that Plantagenet would try to win with the +dummy chips even though he would be $1,000 loser if +he did.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Go ahead and prove your case,' said Wooton, and +a dealer who was off duty was called upon to deal. Plantagenet +kept cases himself and played his own particular +system with all manner of care and effort. Wooton stood +by and saw that Plantagenet was playing his regular +game. Plantagenet's luck had deserted him, and he lost +two bets out of every three. It seemed impossible for +him to get down right, and he lost steadily. He had +played in his last stack in an hour and forty minutes +and Wooton hand him the $1,000.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'That's the way it would have been had I been playing +with money,' said Plantagenet, and Wooton agreed +with him. Plantagenet was one of the men who knew +when to quit, and when he died, with his grandchildren +around him, in the early seventies, he left more than +$500,000 to be distributed among his heirs.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Edmund Baker of Louisville, who was not a professional +gambler, but who outdid most of the famous +professional gamblers of the South in the late fifties in +the heaviness of his play when he felt in a winning humor, +was another man who knew when to quit. I saw +him win $32,000 in one night at bank in the rooms of the +old Crescent City Club. Then he curled up all of a +sudden and cashed in. He wasn't a quitter in the ungenerous +sense, but he used to say that the little angel, supposed +by the sailors to sit aloft and watch out for Jack +Tar, had a habit of informing him, when he was bucking +another man's game, just the proper time to pass it +up and quit. It was a matter of pure hunch with him. +On this occasion Joe Randolph, a heavy player from +Virginia, twitted Baker a bit for not pressing his luck—for +quitting when he seemed to be winning four bets +out of five.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'All right, Randolph,' said Baker after he had cashed +in. 'I'll let you make five $10 bets in my behalf on the +deal now running and I'll bet you an even $2,000 that I +(or you) lose four out of the five; this, just to show you +that my intuition about the proper time to lay off is +good.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Randolph took that bet, which was a good one, with +more than an even chance in his favor, and he lost, for +every one of the five bets lost. Baker would quit when +he was loser just as suddenly as he would when he was +away ahead of the game. I saw him lose over $3,000 in +a four-handed poker game with friends in one of the +parlors of the old St. Charles Hotel between the hours +of 6 and 9 o'clock one evening. He had practically an +unlimited amount of money at his disposal, considering +the size of the game—$200 limit—but he yawned and +pushed his chair back with the simple statement that it +wasn't his night. The next night he lost $2,000 more +to the same three friends, and again he resumed his seat. +On the following night he was $4,000 loser after four +hours' play, but he gave no sign of quitting.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Isn't it pretty near time for you to stretch your arms +and forsake us again, Baker?' asked one of his friends +in the game, jokingly.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'No,' said Baker, 'I'm going to stay along to-night. +I'll begin to win soon, and then you can all stand by.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"He began to win on the very next deal and at 2 +o'clock in the morning he had not only retrieved his losses +on the week's play, but he had all the money in the crowd. +Baker was possessed of a species of intuition that was +something extraordinary. I don't know what else to call +it but intuition. I never saw him take a daring chance +that he did not win out on it—chances that no professional +gambler would dream of taking, and diametrically +opposed to all of the rules of percentage in games of +hazard. One night he walked into 'Don' Haskell's +Madrid Club in St. Louis—this was in the fall of '59—and +stood and watched a few deals out of the box at the +$500-limit faro table. Then he reached over and bought +five yellow—$100—chips from the dealer. He put them +all on the ace and coppered the card. The ace lost, and +the dealer put five yellow chips on the top of the original +five on the ace, and waited for Baker to haul them down. +Baker absent-mindedly made no move, to take the chips +until the dealer reminded him of them.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Let them stand, with the ace coppered,' said Baker.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'But it's $500 limit, Mr. Baker,' said the dealer.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Let it stand, Jack,' said 'Don' Haskell, coming up +behind Jack and addressing the dealer. 'Let it stand +as long as Mr. Baker wants to make play with the ace coppered, +and we'll see if we can't commit assault and battery +on his "intuition."'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Baker nodded good-naturedly to Haskell and then +waited for the turns on the ace. The ace was only half +a dozen cards below, and it lost. The dealer ranged ten +more yellows beside Baker's pile.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Let them stand, ace coppered,' said Baker, scanning +the cases for a few deals back carelessly.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Don' Haskell nodded in the affirmative to the dealer +and the other players at the table neglected to put any +bets down in their interest in Baker's peculiar play. There +was only one more ace left in the box and it came out a +loser. The dealer stacked up twenty more yellows beside +Baker's pile—$4000—and he and the proprietor waited for +Baker to haul them down. Baker leaned back and lit a +cigar, leaving the $4000 in yellows to stand.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I'll leave them there, with the ace coppered, if you're +willing, "Don,"' he said quietly to Haskell.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'The longer the better,' said Haskell, and the dealer +began to slip them out. The first ace was way down in +the center of the box, and Haskell looked a bit chagrined +when it came out a loser.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Eight thousand, eh?' he said, looking over the stack +of yellows on the coppered ace. 'One more whirl at it, +Baker—that'll be about all I can stand to-night if you take +it down.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"The ace came out on the losing side again—a thing +that no professional gambler would have bet on had he +been offered 5 to 1 on the proposition—and Baker cashed +in $16,000. He would have let it run again had Haskell +been able to stand it, but the 'Don' had enough. Baker +stood by and watched the ace come out a loser twice again +and then he put $500 on it to win. It won and he took +the boat for New Orleans with $16,500 of Haskell's +money. Three months later, when Frank Caxton, Ned +Ripley and Monk Terhune, a well-known New Orleans +trio of tiger buckers, broke the Madrid Club's bank roll +wide open, to the tune of $100,000, Baker was the man +who started Haskell in business again.</p> +<p class="pnext">"When I was dealing heavy games myself I used often +to have a sudden feeling that it was time for some strong +bucker on the other side of the table to cash in and quit, +but of course it was no part of my business to make any +such suggestions. I was dealing a game once in Washington, +in the winter of '66, when the outcast son of a rich +tobacco man of Richmond came along and whacked my +box for $12,000 in a single night's play at $200 limit. +I knew the young fellow pretty well, and I knew that +since his father had run him out of Richmond he had +had more than his share of hard luck. In fact, he had +often been hungry, and I had often given him a $5 or +$10 bill, being pretty flush myself just then. He had +started in on my box with a shoestring—where he got it +I don't know—and, as I say, he got me to the tune of +$12,000 before I turned the box on him for the night. +The man in whose interest I was dealing was very wealthy +and a generous man. He knew the young chap's father. +He came to me after the young man had left with his +winnings and said:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'You'd better hunt up that boy and tell him that he'd +better not play any more. He's had his run of luck, and +he's got enough to give himself a start. I don't want the +money back. If he handles it right it'll do him more +good than it would me. Just try to pound a bit of sense +into the lads' head.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"That was a pretty square talk to come from the throat +of a man whose bank had been raided. I hunted the +young fellow up that morning and told him about it. He +was full of hifalutin' talk about wanting to give the proprietor +of the bank a chance and all that sort of thing.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'He can take care of himself,' said I to the boy. 'He +knows your father, and I dare say he's clipped your +father's bank roll for a good deal more than $12,000 on +occasions when your dad has visited Washington and +gone against the bank. Better array yourself in purple +and fine linen, keep sober, and go back to the Governor +in Richmond with a high head and a proper countenance. +That'll be better than walking into Richmond in need of +a Russian bath.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"The fever was on the boy, though, and he couldn't +keep his promise to me to stop. He came in that night, +and in half an hour's play he ran his $12,000 up to +$15,000. I kicked him under the table then, as a sort of +final warning. He paid no attention to me, though. +Then he began to lose, and in three hours he was flat +broke. He went out with a wild light in his eye, and the +next morning he was found dead in his little boarding-house +room, with a bullet in his brain.</p> +<p class="pnext">"It may be true, in the ordinary sense, that Providence +hates a quitter, but that doesn't apply to gambling. The +knowledge of when to get cold feet, and the gentle art of +doing the same, are valuable assets for any man who tries +to buck another man's game."</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="cato-was-just-bound-to-play-poker"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id26">CATO WAS JUST BOUND TO PLAY POKER.</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">And They Got Him the Whole Length of the Missouri, Until He Went Against Another Game and Won Out.</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">"A man hunting for poker trouble could get a-plenty +of it on the Big Muddy stern-wheelers around the latter +sixties and the early seventies," said Joe Reilly of Sioux +City. "There weren't many regular poker sharks working +the Missouri River boats in those days like there were +on the Mississippi steamers, but just the same the men +that traveled on those weather-boarded, lop-sided old +sand-bar wagons on the Big Muddy all knew how to play +poker some, I'm a-telling you. Cato Bullman found this +out when he went up against a whole lot of different men's +games on the old 'Gen. W. T. Sherman' in 1872.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Bullman was pardners with Nate Stillwater in running +a big general store in Yankton, and both of 'em were +making a mint of money at the time I'm going to tell you +about. They'd ha' made more, I guess, if Stillwater +hadn't drank too much whisky and Bullman hadn't played +too much poker. Now, all in all, Stillwater handled his +whisky pretty well, and at such times as he found it was +getting a half-Nelson on him he'd leave it off for a spell +and attend to business, so that his end of the dissipation +of the firm of Stillwater & Bullman wasn't half as bad +as Cato's. Cato loved to play poker so much that he'd +knock right off in the middle of selling a bill of goods +to a gang of freighters to go off somewheres and sit in a +game. Now, this wouldn't have been so bad, even if it +was darned poor business policy, if Cato ever won. But +he never did. He had no license ever to touch a pack +of cards. In the first place, he was a yap at cards, +and any American kid that knew how to play old maid +could have hopped out of the back of a prairie schooner +and beaten Cato out of his boots at the game for money, +marbles or chalk. In the second place, Cato was a natural +born hoodoo. If he was drawing to three aces, and +the other fellow was taking five cards, the other fellow'd +beat Cato out and have plenty to space. So that it was +just about up to Cato to holler murder and take to the +brush whenever anybody flashed a pack of the pasteboards +on him. But he didn't see it this way. He went right on +playing poker and getting soaked for his share of the +profits of the firm. Cato appeared to be just stone-blind +to the fact that the foxy people that didn't do much of +anything else around Yankton except to play cards were +in a fair way to fix themselves with meal tickets for life +at his expense, and as he was pretty near seven foot high +and built in proportion, none of us felt like trying to kick +any sense into his fool head.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Anyhow, in the summer of '72 Bullman started down +the river on the old 'Gen. W. T. Sherman' for St. Louis +to buy goods. He had $10,000 in greenbacks along with +him. Before he went aboard the boat Stillwater, who +wasn't much more'n five foot high, ranged himself alongside +Cato's big carcass, and says he:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Cato, this here v'yage you're about to embark on is +a business trip and nothin' else. It ain't no jamboree +and it ain't no poker picnic. There's some smooth people +gits aboard these here mud ploughs down below at the +landings, and in their hands you'd be nothin' but a great +big moon-eyed jayhawker, which you are. So throughout +this here journey you'd best git 'way up on top o' the +boat and sit on a pile o' planks just abaft the pilot-house +and smoke your pipe. You're not to play no poker at all, +you hear me? When you git stuck on a sand-bar you can +fish over the side for bullhead catfish, but you don't play +no poker. If, when you git back here, I hear that you've +been playing poker, I'll mangle you up a heap; now you +hear me a-talkin'.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Cato reached down, picked up his partner by the +scruff of the neck, and held him out at arm's length.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I ain't a-goin' to play no poker, old man,' says he +to Stillwater. 'Won't touch no cards at all till I git back. +Kind o' lost my knack at the cards lately, anyhow,' as if he +ever had any knack at 'em. 'And you want to let the red-eye +alone while I'm gone, too,' Cato finished, and then +set his little partner down. Then Cato went aboard the +boat. As I was going along down to St. Louis myself, +Stillwater calls me aside and says to me:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Jest keep an eye on that big galoot on the way down, +and if he gits restless and shows an inclination to get tangled +up with a poker deck, jest bat him over the head +with a capstan bar.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"But I wasn't making any rash promises like that. +Well, Cato was all right the first day out, and he followed +his pardner's instructions and sat around on deck +smoking his corn-cob pipe and feeling his big wallet occasionally. +He kept as far away as possible from the little +deck-house where a game was started going before the +boat pushed out into the stream, but the rattle of the chips +was bound to reach his ears occasionally. On the second +day some stockmen got aboard that Cato knew, and Cato +took a few drinks with 'em. Then they invited Cato +into a little game. Cato looked at me kind o' guilty like, +and then shook himself together like a man does that +says to himself, 'It's nobody's danged business but my +own.' So he sits into the game with the stockmen. They +were only going down a few landings, and when they got +off they had $2000 of Cato's money. I never in my life +before or since saw such hoodoo luck as Cato had in that +game with those stockmen. He didn't get a pair more'n +once in a hundred hands, and if he did get a pair and happened +to better it in the draw he'd give a hoot that 'ud +wake up the owls ashore and then bet like an Ogallala +Sioux with four aces and a dirk knife. It was just simply +painful to watch Cato in that game, and no mistake. +When the stockmen got off some of them actually looked +so sorry for Cato that I kind o' thought they'd offer to give +him his money back. But they didn't.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I'm kind o' out o' luck lately,' says Cato to me after +the stockmen had got off with his $2000, 'and I b'lieve +I'll just draw in now and wait for a hunch. No good +buckin' agin' a streak o' bad luck, is there?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, I told him that if my 10-year-old boy down in +Sioux City wasn't able to play poker any better than he, +Cato, could before he put on long trousers and suspenders +I'd send him up to a lumber camp until he became of age. +But Cato didn't pay any attention to me, and when an +awkward, overworked-looking man, dressed like a farmer, +got aboard a couple of landings below he struck up an +acquaintance with him. This farmer-like looking man +had a pretty keen pair of eyes in his head, as I noticed, +and he had besides that yokelly way of finding out +about other people's business. So it didn't take him +long to dig it out of Cato that Cato was going down to +St. Louis to buy a stock of goods. The three of us were +sitting on the hind rail, whittling, when this farmer-like +looking man turns to Cato and asks him:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Ever play key-ards?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Cato looked at me again and hesitated.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Oh, wunct in a while,' says he, finally, and in a pair +of minutes they were in the middle of a poker game. The +stranger asked me to sit in, of course, but I could see +that he wasn't over-anxious to have me in the game, and +I never played poker on steamboats, stern-wheel or side-wheel, +anyhow.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Cato's hoodoo luck followed him right along in his +game with the overworked-looking man, who seemed to +me to have considerable of a job covering up a natural +sort of deftness he had in handling a pack. The two +played for three or four hours, the stranger announcing +occasionally that he was going to get off at the next landing, +so's to screen himself from the inference that he was +getting cold feet, probably. He was about $1000 ahead +of Cato's game when the boat was nearing his landing.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Hev to make it a jackpot naow,' said he, when the +old stern-wheeler began to wheeze and snort a little preparatory +to stopping at the landing.</p> +<p class="pnext">"He dealt the jackpot hand himself and each man had +$100 in the center of the table. It was to be sweetened +for $100 each time the deal passed. But it didn't pass. +Cato opened the pot for $100 and his Reuben-looking +opponent stayed. The betting swayed back and forth +until each man had $1000 up, and then the farmer-like +looking man called Cato. Cato had three eights. The +other man had three tens. The other man stuffed the +bills from the center of the table into his overalls, shook +Cato quite effusively by the hand, and went ashore.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Got enough?' says I to Cato when the old sandbar-bucker +was once again under way.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Say,' says he to me, 'ye can't never jedge a man by +his looks, can ye? That man knows a hull heap more'n +you'd think, don't he?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Got enough, Cato?' I repeats, for I wanted to pin +him to the question in hand.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well, I shorely am out o' luck, and no mistake,' +was as far as he would commit himself.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The next day a man who looked like members of +Congress out my way used to look got aboard. He was +dress in a long black broadcloth coat and wore a big +black slouch hat, and he carried himself like a man that +amounted to a good deal. He was amiable in his manners, +though, and he hadn't been aboard more'n half an +hour before he happened to fall into talk with Cato. Cato +was a little sore about the loss of his $4,000, but this +legislator-like looking man was so entertaining and +sprung so a lot of good stories over the jug of good stuff +which Cato brought out of his stateroom that Cato appeared +to forget his troubles for the time.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Monotonous work, this steamboat traveling, isn't +it?' says the statesmanlike-looking man to Cato after a +while. 'I've only four hours traveling to do, and yet +I've been dreading it for a week. What do you say to +a little game of dime-ante. You play, of course?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Cato scratched his chin.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Durned if b'lieve I can any more," said he ruefully, +and then, like the innocent big dogan that he was, he +tells his new friend how he has already lost $4,000 on +the trip down, and that he feels like hanging on to his +remaining $6,000.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Oh, but only a little dime-ante game, you know,' +says the man who looked like a member of Congress, and +his eyes opened up a bit, I noticed, at the mention of the +$6,000.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'O. K.,' says Cato. 'Jest to pass the time,' and down +they sat. I was asked in, but I told the statesmanlike-looking +man that I had left my specs up in Yankton and +therefore couldn't see the hands well enough to play. +Well, the dime-ante and the dollar limit that they started +in at lasted just until Cato got a whopping big hand, +which happened to be given to him by the man that looked +like an M. C.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Say,' says Cato then, looking a heap excited, 's'posin' +we jest take the limit off'n this here game, anyhow, fur +a little while?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Why, certainly,' says his opponent genially, and +Cato walks right in and wins $500 clean on that hand of +his. He gives me a look out o' the tail of his eye that +says, 'Well, what do you think of me now,' and the game +goes on.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, the M. C.-looking man begins to win quite a +good deal then, and he, like the farmer-looking man, +brought the game to a jackpot finish as the boat approached +his getting-off place.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Fur how much?' inquired Cato, who was about +$1,000 out already.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Oh, about $50 and $50 sweeteners,' said the man +across the table.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'No, we won't, either,' says Cato. 'We'll each put +in $1,000, an' no sweeteners. That's jest as good fur +you as 'tis fur me.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Exactly,' says the distinguished looking man playing +with him, and Cato dealt the hands. Neither man +had openers. Then the other man dealt 'em. Cato opened +it on jacks up on treys, and caught another jack in +the draw. The boat snorted and wheezed preparatory to +being made fast. Cato bet a flat $1,000 on his jack full, +and the M. C.-looking man, looking kind o' impatient to +get ashore, win or lose, calls him. Cato lays down his +jack full with a grin at me—and says his friends across +the table:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'You do indeed, my friend, appear to labor under a +blanket of ill-fortune,' and he spreads out his four nines +and gathers in the pot. Then he hurries ashore, after +shaking the crestfallen Cato warmly by the hand.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Got $3,000 left now, haven't you, Cato?' says I +then, for it began to look to me as if word had been +passed down the whole length of the Missouri River that +Cato Bullman was traveling on one of its steamboats with +money. 'Better let me keep that $3,000 for you.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'No, I'm durned if I do,' says Cato. 'Might as well +lose it all now, devil take it,' and he gnawed on his fingernails, +thinking about what kind of a story he'd put up to +his partner, I guess, when he got back to Yankton broke.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, Cato did lose it all, or close on to all of it. He +foregathered with a man that got aboard at Omaha, and +said he was a civil engineer for the Union Pacific Railroad. +The civil engineer got $1,800 of Cato's greenbacks, +and then got off. Twenty miles below Omaha, at +a little handing, a gappy looking hog raiser that Cato had +met before climbed over the rail, and Cato thought he +saw a chance to recoup his drooping fortunes. The hog +raiser relieved Cato of $1,000, and had an important engagement +to look at some fancy hogs at the next stop. +This left Cato with $200.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Convinced that you're a damphool yet, Cato?' +says I.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Dang'd if I don't begin b'lieve I am,' he owns up.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'How about those goods you were going to buy in +St. Louis?' I asked him.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I dunno,' he said, mournful like.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, when we got to Leavenworth, Kan., the wheezy +old Sherman tied up for twenty-four hours for repairs to +the machinery. Cato was pretty gloomy. We went +ashore and put up at the old Planters' House. On the +night we struck Leavenworth I walked Cato around to +sort o' relieve his mind. We were strolling down Shawnee +street when we both saw a pretty much lighted up +place into which a lot of well-gotten up men were going. +When we came up to the place we heard the rattle of the +chips and click of the marble and the choppy talk of the +keno men, and then we saw that it was Col. Jennison's +famous Bon Ton gambling joint, running wide open and +full blast. Cato made for the door. I grabbed him by +the sleeve.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Come out o' that,' says I. 'You've only got $200, +which won't more'n get you back to Yankton. Haven't +you been enough of an idiot already?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I got a hunch,' says Cato, releasing himself from +me and starting again for the door.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Hunch!' says I, but he was already inside.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, Cato goes up to the faro table where the big +men of the town seem to be playing bank, and says I to +myself, 'Joe, you'll have to dig up to send this crazy +man back to his pardner in Yankton.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Cato bought $200 worth of chips, tapping himself, +and began. Gentlemen, he couldn't lose. He scattered +his chips over every card on the table, and he couldn't +lose. He won eight bets out of ten. He let his money +lie on cards four times over, and won every time. He +didn't use a copper, but played every card wide open. +There didn't seem to be a split in the box for Cato. In +less than twenty minutes he had won over $3,000. There +was a $500 limit on the game. Cato asked to have it +removed. When the limit was taken off, Cato made +three $1,000 bets running, and won every one of them. +Then he came off his perch and got down to $200 bets +again, playing 'em like a veteran, and just simply unable +to lose, gentlemen. The rest of the men at the table +quit playing just to watch Cato. Once in a while Cato'd +play the high card, just to see if his luck was holding. +The high card came out every time he did it. They +switched the dealer three times. They switched the lookout +half a dozen times. They tried different boxes. +They changed tables. They did everything. But, gentlemen, +Cato Bullman was playing faro, and he couldn't +lose. I was proud of the big duffer. In an hour he was +$18,000 ahead of Col. Jennison's bank. They sent across +the way to get Col. Jennison who was playing a quiet +little game of poker in the Star of the West saloon. Col. +Jennison came over to the Bon Ton and sat down to handle +the box for Cato himself. Cato soaked Col. Jennison +every bit as hard as he had soaked all of Col. Jennison's +dealers. Col. Jennison was game, but, when at +the end of three hours, Cato was still going right ahead +winning like a cyclone, he turned the box over with this +little remark:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Gentlemen, the game is closed for the night.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"When Cato cashed in he had just $35,200. I took him +by the arm and walked him down to the hotel and got him +into his room. Cato went to the basin to wash his hands. +When he turned around to me again he looked into the +barrels of both my guns.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Cato,' says I, 'I'm sorry, but I'll just trouble you to +hand over every cent of that $35,200 you've got, right +away now, darned quick, or I'll blow the whole top of +your head off.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Cato didn't demur a little bit. He plunked the +money down—most of it was in $1,000 and $500 bills—on +the table.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I don't suppose I've got enough sense to pack it +around, fur a fac',' said he.</p> +<p class="pnext">"When we got to St. Louis I handed Cato $10,000 to +buy his goods with, and expressed the $23,200 to his address +in Yankton.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well,' said his little pardner, Stillwater, when Cato +got back to Yankton, 's'long as you won, you big clod-hopper, +I don't s'pose I need to mangle you up none. +But if you had lost!'"</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="finish-of-an-educated-red-man"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id27">FINISH OF AN EDUCATED RED MAN.</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">He Was Too Handy with the Pasteboards, Wherefore He Arrived Prematurely in the "Happy Hunting Grounds."</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">"It happens more or less frequently," said a traveling +Inspector of Indian Agencies, "that an educated buck +Indian degenerates in the long run into a bad proposition. +I'm thinking particularly of an educated Oregon Indian, +about a three-quarter blood, who got the big-head so bad +after he had been polished off mentally back this way +that he never mixed up with his people when he returned +from the East. He was a Umatilla. He was +first sent to Carlisle, and when he had finished there he +was passed on to Johns Hopkins, in Baltimore, to take +the law course there. It was in view that he was to become +the attorney for his tribe upon the conclusion of his +Blackstone-thumbing. He squeezed through the law at +Johns Hopkins, and then he was told of the nice fat thing +that awaited him out among his own people. He turned +the proposition down cold. He said flatly that he had no +intention whatever of mixing up with his own bunch at all +any more. He likewise remarked that he knew his gait, +and that he intended to follow it.</p> +<p class="pnext">"A couple of months after he quit Baltimore he turned +up at The Dalles in Western Oregon and settled down +to the career of a short poker player. Where he had +picked up the game it would be hard to say; but he certainly +was a daisy at it. There wasn't a kink in the game +that he didn't have the hang of. Now, The Dalles isn't +any bad man's camp; it is a very beautiful health resort +in the Cascade Mountains, on the south bank of the Columbia +River; there wasn't a hard character in the place +until this educated buck established his headquarters +there; and it suited his game to a T. He made it his +business to nail young tourists who didn't have any more +sense than to sit into a poker game with a stranger, much +less an Indian, and an educated Indian at that; and he +just stripped them in sets of fours for several years. He +was a splendid-looking buck and he dressed as men dress +who've got the money to tog themselves out right back +this way. When he was engaged in the act of getting +a new victim he knew how to throw much cordiality and +some grace into his manners; but ordinarily he was a +sulky, morose, bad Indian. 'Way down in the deeps +of him he was a rank coward, for he never tried to twist +his tentacles about a man who he thought would make a +stand, much less a scrap, upon discovering that he was +being done; he always picked out palpable lily-livers who +looked, to his shrewd eye, as if they would stand for anything +rather than mix it up with him.</p> +<p class="pnext">"It did not take the square people of The Dalles long +to get next to the fact that this educated Indian, who had +coolly taken up his abode among them, was a cheat and a +swindler, and that his sole occupation consisted in fleecing +pulp-headed young tourists. They talked a great deal +of giving him the razzle-dazzle and chasing him out, but +somehow or other this suggestion never came to a head. +The men at The Dalles who had the interest of the place +at heart would point the swellerino buck out to young +strangers who looked as if they might be likely victims +of the Indian short-card fleecer, and tell the young goslings +just where and how the buck stood. It may sound +incredible, but even after being warned in this fashion +a whole lot of the young addlepates fell into the buck's +mesh and got themselves done to a proper turn by him. +They were able to take care of themselves, they would +reply chestily to their warners, and, just to prove it, +they'd take a hack at the Indian's game. When they got +through they'd be smoking punk tobacco in pipes while +the Indian would be blowing the smoke of perfectos in +their faces, and they'd stand for their craggy end of it +without a whistle. The buck was 6 feet 3 inches high +and weighed 235 pounds, and he looked like a macerator +from the high ridges. So he was never called by any of +his Dalles victims, even when they knew the details of +how they'd been plucked. One poor little devil of a rich +man's son from Omaha whimpered one night when the +Indian had removed about $800 from him by dealing from +both ends and the middle of the deck, and he said to the +buck piteously:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I just hope you've played fair, that's all.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"The Indian reached over and struck the pollywog +with all of his force on both sides of the face with his two +open palms, leaving the blood-red welt marks of his fingers +on the lamb's fair cheeks. The whining victim +drilled for his life up the hotel stairs to his room, and the +Indian looked after him sardonically. There wasn't a +man about that didn't know that the Indian had scandalously +cheated the lad, but not a one of them said a word. +There was a keen-eyed, big-framed, prematurely gray-haired +man, a stranger, standing at the hotel desk reading +a just-arrived letter, when the thing happened. His face +flushed angrily when he saw the burly Indian slap the +undersized fool of a boy, and he turned to the hotel clerk +and remarked:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Is this the real thing here? Does the gang stand +for that kind of work on the part of a mud-hided raw-meater?' +There was plenty of contempt in the way the +stranger spoke.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The clerk shrugged his shoulders. 'We can't undertake +to cut in on any of the plays of our guests,' he replied. +'We just board and lodge 'em, that's all. If +they're jays enough to mix up with grafters, it's their +game, and we're not asking for any rake-off, one way or +the other.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"The stranger muttered something about a chicken-livered +population, and strolled out. He took his train an +hour or so later.</p> +<p class="pnext">"At certain seasons of the year, when there wasn't +must doing in his line at The Dalles, owing to periodical +scarcities of pluckable tourists, the Indian would hit up +Baker City, Pendleton, and other Oregon towns in search +of good things, and a couple of times a year he included +Olympia and Walla Walla in his itinerary. He sung +somewhat smaller in those places than he did at The +Dalles, but by keeping his eye skinned for men liable to +call the turn on him and working quietly he generally +succeeded in pulling apart at least one jelly-fish in each +of the towns he took in on these off-season tours.</p> +<p class="pnext">"About three months after he had left the marks of +his fingers on the lamb's face at The Dalles—this was in +the fall of '92—he turned up one day at Walla Walla. +He strolled around the hotel corridors with an eye to +business, and along toward night he met with a young +fellow named Hellen, whose father, a wealthy Chicago +man, had recently foreclosed a mortgage on a big ranch +about sixty miles from Walla Walla. The son, a rather +raw young chap, had come out to look the ranch over, +and the Indian got next to him as soon as he struck the +town. The buck was an expert billiard player, and he +suggested a game of pin billiards to the young Hellen +chap. He played off on the youth, and soon got him to +betting on shots. After losing about a dozen $5 bets +on shots, the Indian socked it to the young man from +Chicago by betting $300 that he could execute a certain +difficult shot. It looked like board and lodging to the +young man that the Indian's $300 would spin into his +clothes, so he put up $300. The Indian made the shot +with consummate ease and took down the pot.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Fluke!' said young Hellen. 'I'll go you another +$300.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"The buck got this bunch, too, without half trying. It +would naturally be thought that the tenderfoot would +have smelt a rat by this time. But he didn't. He had +plenty of money, and probably he considered it piquant to +lose his coin to a swagger-looking, educated Indian. Anyhow, +the two were playing poker in the card-room of +Walla Walla's stag hotel half an hour later.</p> +<p class="pnext">"There were plenty of men in that card-room who +knew that the Indian was a short-carder, but men out +that way aren't garrulous, and they pay a heap of attention +to the job of minding their own business. The +youth from Chicago was the merest mutt in the hands +of the Indian, and he lost from the jump. He would +stand pat on a full house, and the buck, drawing three +cards, would still beat him after sky-scraping betting. +A number of onlookers at the game may have seen the +little side-plays of the Indian, but they only grinned at +each other over the hopeless imbecility of the young man +from Chicago.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Finally the Indian, perhaps losing some of his dexterity +from the drinks he was steadily absorbing, over-stepped +himself. He filled two pairs from the discard +and he did it clumsily. The young man with whom he +was playing saw the move.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I say, there,' said he, 'what are you doing there, +you know?' pointing to the discard. 'Didn't you—er—didn't +you make a mistake and take a card out of that +pile?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"The Indian, who was about $1,600 to the good, had +cold feet, anyhow, and so he threw his hand face downward +on the table and glared at the Chicago boy. The +Chicago boy quailed.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Er—well, maybe I made the mistake myself'—he +started to say, when a big voice cut in with:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'No, you didn't son. You didn't make any mistake +at all. You're up against the real thing in the way of +a mud-skinned short-riffler, that's all.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"A keen-eyed, big-framed, prematurely gray-haired +man was the speaker. As he spoke he reached down +from behind the Indian's chair and got two huge hands +around the buck's neck. The onlookers formed a clearing. +The Chicago youth got himself on the outskirts of +the bunch.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'About three months ago,' said the keen-eyed man, +dragging the huge, half-choked Indian to his feet, 'I saw +you at The Dalles leave the prints of your dirty fingers +on the face of a little whiffet you had just fleeced. I +hankered then to confer a few personally conducted slaps +of my own make and manufacture on your coppery jowls, +but for some reason or other I passed the hanker up on +that occasion. Well, the slaps are coming to you now. +It's better late than never, and I'm going to slap you into +jerked beef just for luck.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"The buck was finally up against the real thing, and +he knew it. I'll bet that his face was whiter than mine +is now when the big-framed man, who had the devil of +anger lurking in his eyes, suddenly loosed his right hand +from around the Indian's neck, and, still clutching him +by the left, swept the loose arm back for the momentum +and brought his heavy palm smack against the buck's left +cheek with a noise that sounded like the explosion of a +charge of blasting powder. The slap rattled the Indian's +teeth and made his big head joggle from side to side like +the head of an automaton. Clutching the Indian's throat +again then with his right hand, the big-framed man repeated +the slapping performance on the Indian's right +cheek with his left hand, and left a welt there that might +have been made by a cat-o'-nine tails. The buck was too +dazed, in the first place, by the suddenness of it all, to +make a move: in the second place, he was too cowardly. +The big-framed man—he was an expert mining engineer +from Nevada, and his name was Varus Pryor—slapped +the Indian's face, first with his right and then with his +left, for three minutes, with all his might, and then, getting +behind the buck, proceeded to slap him into the +street. With first one hand and then the other clutching +the collar of the Indian's coat, he slapped him out to the +front door of the hotel. Then he gave the buck the knee +in the small of the back, and hoisted him across the pavement +to the middle of the street, where the Indian spun +around and fell for a moment.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I don't care what the Indian Bureau says about it,' +said the keen-eyed man, standing in the doorway of the +hotel. 'God Almighty never intended that white men +should stand for such alligators as that copper-mugged +swindler, and'——</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Stand clear, pard, he's going to plug you!' shouted +a man from a second-story window of the hotel.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The Indian, pretending to be hurt, and only half +risen to his feet in the obscurity of the middle of the +street, had got his gun out, and the yell from the second +story reached Pryor just in time. As it was, the buck +planted a ball in the front door of the hotel, only two +inches above the big-framed man's head. By that time +Pryor's gun was working, and he drilled six holes forty-eight +hundredths of an inch in diameter plumb through +the swindling Umatilla's chest. Forty-five minutes later +he was acquitted by a coroner's jury on the grounds of +self-defense and justifiable homicide—a two-in-one verdict.</p> +<p class="pnext">"This," concluded the traveling Inspector of Indian +Agencies, "was the finish of just one mentally-burnished +buck Indian, and I know of several others."</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="the-uncertain-game-of-stud-poker"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id28">THE UNCERTAIN GAME OF STUD POKER.</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">Story of a Séance at Stud Between Two Oregon Contractors and the Close Finish Thereof.</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">"Somehow or another, I don't like the game of stud," +said a Government contractor from Portland, Ore. "It's +too much of a strain to play stud. There are too many +heart-breaking and headache-producing possibilities attached +to the mysterious card the other fellow has got +in the hole. I'd rather take the chance of guessing what +all of his five cards are than to engage in the perspiring +business of trying to figure out the horrible possible value +of the one blind card, especially if the four cards he +has exposed are capable of being amplified into a hand of +the topper kind by the addition of that bit of pasteboard +in the pit. I can't get away from the impression that it's +like putting all of your money in one bet to play stud. +Now, there's a good deal to the game of draw besides +mere bluffing. In fact, bluffing is almost an obsolete feature +of the game among the experts at draw poker. The +man that plays his hand in draw will beat the bluffer every +time in year-in-and-year-out play.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The folks out my way had the stud-poker fad pretty +badly about eight or ten years ago, but now they've +got back to their first love and stick pretty generally to +the game of California draw—which, by the way, is a +whole lot different game from the draw you people back +here play. For example, a man sprung a thing on me +last night that he called a pat straight. I had three aces, +but he said his pat straight topped me, and as he had his +gang with him, I had to look pleasant and let him rake +in the money. If a man out on the Slope were to talk +pat straight to a party of aborigines, they'd conduct him +to the Alcalde's calaboose and have him locked up to +await a commission's decision as to his responsibility.</p> +<p class="pnext">"But to get back to the period when the stud-poker +fad got hold of us out in Oregon. I was a witness of a +heart-disease finish of a game of that kind a few years +back that caused me to decide that ordinary draw was +good enough for my money right along. It was right +after the big fire that ate up the best part of The Dalles +eight years ago. As soon as the building contractors of +Portland got word to the effect that The Dalles was being +licked up by the flames, they hopped aboard trains and +made for The Dalles with an eye to business. They knew +that The Dalles, which was chiefly a wooden layout before +the fire, would be immediately rebuilt in brick and +stone, and that the contractors who got on the scene of +ruin first would scoop in the bulk of the business. Two +of these contractors were—well, I'll have to side-step on +their names, for they're two of the most prominent citizens +out on the banks of the Willamette, and both of +'em walk up the middle aisle on Sunday as if they never +heard of such a thing as stud poker. Both of them are +Irishmen, which is why neither of 'em could see that he +was licked on this occasion.</p> +<p class="pnext">"One of them, we'll say, was Dan Carmody, and the +other was Tim Feeney. Carmody got into The Dalles +a few hours ahead of Feeney, and he made those few +hours count. He went around to the business men of +The Dalles who had been wiped out by the fire and asked +them what they wanted with him. They hadn't burned +the wires up telegraphing for Carmody to come to them, +but Carmody about convinced them that they had done +just this thing, and he began making estimates for 'em +with pencil and pad. He corralled them in the one remaining +hall of the town and told them to go ahead and +just let him know what they wanted of him. Carmody's +cyclonic nerve appealed to their fancy, and they found +themselves juggling with the figures Carmody was putting +down on his pad. Three hours after Carmody struck +The Dalles from Portland he had in his inside coat pocket +rough drafts of contracts to build a new stone business +block, including a theater, and also to erect a large, ornate +hotel, the cost of both buildings to be not more than $350,000. +Oh, Carmody was a hustler all right.</p> +<p class="pnext">"He had an idea that his friend and business rival, +Tom Feeney, would be down on the next train from Portland, +and he went to the station to receive him. Sure +enough, Feeney stepped off the next incoming train. Carmody +had his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat +and a big cigar stuck aggravatingly in his teeth when +Feeney ran into him. Feeney's jaw fell.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'When did you get in, Dan?' he asked Carmody.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Three hours ago,' replied Dan, with a grin.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Feeney made a funny motion, as if to jump aboard a +train that was just pulling out for Portland, but he came +back to his cheerful rival and asked him:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Anything doing, Dan?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Carmody executed two very shifty jig steps in token +of his happiness, and then reassumed his dignity.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well, I'll tell you how it is, Tim,' he said. 'These +people here are pretty badly chewed up, y' see. Now, +maybe they'll be wanting to rebuild a few chicken coops +and outhouses—I don't know but what they will. Now, +there's a chance for you, Tim.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Feeney didn't look very merry over this. Says he: +'Chicken coops, is it? And who's going to throw up the +new business building and the opera house, and the hotel, +and the like?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Carmody was laying for that question. He drew the +two rough contracts out of his pocket.</p> +<p class="pnext">"' Looks as if I'm It over here, don't it, Tim?' he asked +Feeney, as the latter read over the two contracts with a +gloomy countenance. 'Nice work, hey? That's what you +get for monkeying around in bed all the morning, Tim. +Why don't you be like me, now? I never go to bed,' etc. +Carmody couldn't refrain from working that nice edge +of his, and strung the dismal-faced Feeney for keeps. +Feeney finally walked away, the picture of dejection, to +see if there were any crumbs to be picked up in the way +of rebuilding. He found, however, that all of the business +men that had not already been got by Carmody were disposed +to wait awhile for the disposition of insurance, and +he didn't get a smell of the rebuilding. He walked around +the still-smoking Dalles for the remainder of the day, +figuring on how much Carmody was going to make out of +his two big contracts. Carmody himself started in to open +wine by way of celebration, so that by the time the night +boat for Portland was ready to leave her slip he was pretty +comfortable. Both he and Feeney took the night boat and I +happened to be going down to Portland on the boat myself +that night. Feeney had taken the bowl himself a bit +during the day to assuage his depression over his lack of +success, and he was pretty mellow when the boat pulled +out. Carmody, with about a dozen quarts under his belt, +dug Feeney up as soon as he got aboard, and the two +walked up and down the main deck, arm in arm, Carmody +keeping up his merciless stringing of his friend. +Then Carmody heard the clatter of the chips in a $10 +limit game of stud that had already started in the card-room, +and suggested a two-handed game of stud to +Feeney, with some accommodating non-player to deal +the cards. Feeney was agreeable, and Carmody, seeing +that I wasn't mixing up with the game in the card-room, +asked me if I wouldn't dish 'em out for an hour or so of +stud between himself and Feeney. It was to be $100 +limit and $10 ante. The two men didn't get up to the +$100 limit at all until after they had played for half an +hour, and Carmody was $600 or $700 winner. Then +Feeney found himself with kings up on tens in front of +him and a card that he either liked or elected to bluff +on in the hole, while Carmody had three aces face up and +a card in the hole that he appeared to think a heap of, +judging from the way he bet.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'These kings of mine,' said Feeney, with the transparent +air of a man making a win-out bluff, 'may not +look very pretty alongside those three bullets of yours, +Carmody, but they suit me, at that. You can have a peep +at the blind for $100.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I wouldn't think of paying so little money for the +privilege of gazing at such a good card as you think you've +got, Tim,' said Carmody. 'Now, having already got you +beat on the show-up, I guess I can afford to charge you +another $100 for a glimpse of the other one-spot that I've +got in the pit.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"This kind of talk went on for ten minutes, the two +men raising each other back at $100 a clip until there was +$3800 in the pot. Feeney talked and acted like a bluffer +all the time, but nevertheless Carmody began to suspect +that, after all, Tim might have something in the hole +to beat him. So when Carmody called Feeney's last +$100 raise the latter knew that his friend with the contracts +in his pocket didn't have any four aces, and he just +scooped in the pot before he showed up what he had in +the hole. It was the third king, completing a nice full +hand, that Feeney had in the hole, and the money was his. +Carmody turned up a deuce, that he had tried to make +the bluff was another ace, and looked properly crestfallen.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'For a Mulligan that knows so little about business as +you, Tim,' said Carmody, 'you've got a mighty crafty way +about you of making it appear that you're bluffing. We'll +try it again, and from now on I'll know that when you +look and talk like you're bluffing you've got the hand.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Both men had been ringing up the steward's boy a +good deal, during the progress of the game, and they +were not, therefore, any more sober than was necessary. +On the very next hand Feeney took a big hunk out of his +rival. He had three deuces face up and Carmody had +three jacks on top. Feeney began to bet $100 with so +much natty confidence that Carmody decided that his +compatriot was adopting new tactics in bluffing, and, quite +naturally, with his three nice-looking jacks plainly in +sight, he not only stood every raise but raised back the +limit every time.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I figure it this way,' said Carmody, abstractedly to +himself, when there was nigh onto $4000 in chips in the +center of the baize. 'This Harp from Connemara across +the table can't turn two of these tricks one right after +the other. The percentage of the game is against such +a thing as that. And he's just perky and sassy because +he thinks I'm on to his first exhibited system of bluffing. +Tim, another $100, if you want to feast your Mulligan +blue eyes on this other knave of mine in the hole.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'And $100,' said Feeney, with all the confidence in +life.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Thus they went on for fully fifteen minutes, until the +proportions of the pot were really alarming, considering +that neither of the men was a millionaire or anything like +it. There was $7200 in the middle of the table when +Carmody wilted. He attempted to put his wilt on philanthropic +grounds.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'With a drink or two in you, Tim,' he said, 'you're an +incautious and unwise citizen for a man humping along +toward 60 years of age'—Feeney wasn't more than 48, +and didn't look that. 'And Mrs. Feeney's been telling +my wife for the past twelve years that she's aching to +have a look at the old sod, but that her man Tim considers +himself too poor for the journey. So I won't be +the means of casting gloom around your household, Tim. +I see your $100, and what's the color of that cheap ten or +eight spot you've got in the hole?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Feeney turned over his fourth deuce and hauled down +the money. That sort o' took Carmody's nerve and he +had to have several big drinks of the hard stuff to set +him right again. While he was drinking Feeney took up +the end of the stringing that Carmody had abandoned.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'How much do you figure you'll pull down from those +two contracts, Dan?' he asked his rival in business.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'About $75,000,' answered Carmody quickly, 'which +is just about $75,000 more than The Dalles fire has been +worth to you, eh, Tim?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'What's the use of depleting the capital that you've +already got in bank?' asked Feeney, with a twinkle in +his eye. 'Just play me stud for those contracts. I'll +say they're worth $60,000, and I'm good for that if I'm +good for a cent.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Carmody studied for a moment. He was already out +$11,000 in this poker game, and he wanted that money +back. The idea of playing his contracts against Feeney's +hard cash rather appealed to his imagination, which was +not less active on account of the huge quantity of stuff +he had been drinking.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well, I'll tell you what I'll do to give you a start in +life, Tim,' said Carmody finally. 'You've got my checks +for $11,000. Supposing you call those two contracts worth +$70,000, return me those checks for $11,000, and say that +the two contracts I've got in my pocket are worth $59,000 +as they stand. Then I'll give you a chance to take as +big a fall out of the contracts as you think you can.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"That idea suited Feeney to a T, and I stood by to +begin dealing again. The two contracts were pushed +into the center of the table by Carmody, and it was an +additional part of my business, besides dealing, to make +note of the changing value of the contracts as the game +progressed.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, the game continued to go Feeney's way, and +Carmody just looked at his contracts as Feeney began +to edge them nearer and nearer to his end of the table. +Carmody, while he figured that the contracts were so +much velvet, didn't look happy when Feeney picked $12,000 +more out of them, leaving their value to Dan only +an approximate $47,000, but he played on in the hope of +better luck. Finally a queer hand came around. Carmody +caught two queens, an eight and a seven. So did +Feeney. This thing made Carmody mad.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Of all the niggering out I ever saw,' he exclaimed, +'this is the worst. But it's about time I had the best of +it when it comes to pure bull-head luck.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"So he bet the limit that he had a better card in the +hole than Feeney. Feeney came back at him every clip, +and when I interposed a remonstrance over the heftiness +of the game, expressing the opinion that both of them +would probably be sorry they had gone into the thing +so heavily when the gray dawn came around, they said +they knew they'd be sorry, and went right ahead.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'This is surely the hottest case of a stand-off in a +deal in stud that I've seen yet,' said Feeney, 'and I +shouldn't be surprised if we had to split the pot when the +show-down comes. But I'm as good as you, Carmody, +on the four that show, and I'm with you all night if you're +going to keep it up that long.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"When my tab of the shifting value of the contracts +showed that Carmody's interest therein was only an even +$30,000, Carmody looked up at the ceiling of the card-room +and reflected.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Here,' he said, 'is where I get my contracts back +and break even, or where I have to go into partnership +with a slow-witted Irishman on those buildings at The +Dalles. Feeney, I call you.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Feeney turned over a six spot. Carmody's card in +the hole was a five. Feeney was the possessor of a half +interest in Carmody's fine contracts at The Dalles, and +that's how it happened that these two builders, who had +always gone it singly and alone, built up The Dalles in +partnership. They got along so well together at The Dalles +work that three years later they went into a general contracting +partnership and they've been getting rich ever +since. But it was their stud game on The Dalles boat +that induced me to conclude that old-fashioned draw +was good enough for me."</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="this-man-won-too-often"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id29">THIS MAN WON TOO OFTEN.</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">With the Result That His Clothes Finally Went into a Pot, and Fortune Scowled upon Him.</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">"When a man arrives at that pitch where he'll bet the +clothes off his back over a jackpot, it's about up to him +to let the game of draw alone, in my opinion," said a +traveling special agent of the Treasury Department. +"I'm talking about a game of draw that happened last +fall down in the Territory, on the south bank of the +Canadian River, in the Chickasaw country, between four +St. Louis men. They were on their annual hunting trip +down there. They were well-known business men of old +St. Loo, pals of a half a lifetime, and they had been after +bear, deer, feathered game, or any old thing shootable +down in the Territory every year together for more than +a decade. They always played poker on these outings, +too, and the bank president always got all the money. +The other three couldn't do anything whatever with the +bank president's brand of poker. They'd been digging +at him on these excursions for ten years, trying every +conceivable scheme to get his money, and even playing +in combination against him, but when it came time to +strike camp he always had all the money in the crowd, +owned all the camp fixtures, and served out smoking +tobacco to his three chums in a lordly way only when +he felt generous. It made 'em hot, but they had to accept +his alms if they wanted to smoke.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The three of 'em determined when the party set out +from St. Louis in their special car last autumn that the +bank president wasn't going to come back from the hunting +trip with all the money, even if they had to leave his +bones to bleach on the banks of the Canadian. They declared +together that the bank president's sassiness for +the remainder of the year after eating them up at poker +down in the Territory was something unbearable, and +they didn't intend to stand for it any more.</p> +<p class="pnext">"They played a little poker in their car on the trip +down from St. Louis, and this gave one of the three conspirators +a chance to get hold of the bank president's two +decks of cards. The conspirators carefully marked these +two decks of cards—marked 'em both just the same way—and +then, during the temporary absence of the bank +president in another part of the car, he elaborately explained +to his two companions in infamy how he had +done it, the three going over the bank president's two +decks in detail, so as to master the markings. Then the +two decks were returned furtively to the bank president's +grip, and the rest of the playing on the trip down was +done with ordinary packs. They never played big on +these journeys, anyhow, but reserved their stiff games for +the bad-weather days in camp.</p> +<p class="pnext">"When they got to their point of debarkation on the +line, they left their car on a siding and struck out for +their regular camp, about seventy-five miles from the +railroad. They stuck to the bagging of pelts and antlers +for a week or so; then a threatening morning came along +and the bank president suggested poker.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'What's the use?' they all demurred, eying the +bank president gloomily. 'You always get the whole +works, and then you're insufferable for the rest of the year. +We don't think you're on the level, anyhow.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Oh, I'll give you all a chance this time,' said the +bank president, grinning. 'I won't be hard upon you. +Then, you see, the more you fellows play with me in the +game, why, the more you learn about poker, and I'm sure +the instruction you get helps you a lot in your games with +the dubs up in St. Loo. I'm noted, anyhow, for my generosity +in giving others the benefit of my wisdom.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well,' said the spokesman and arch-conspirator of +the three, 'we'll play a little game of table-stakes, but +checks don't go; this thing of the three of us writing +you checks that keep your large family in opulence for a +year is'——</p> +<p class="pnext">"'All right, let it be table stakes,' replied the bank president +amiably. 'I'm not a man to take bread out of the +mouths of the impoverished,' and with more of such badinage +the game started.</p> +<p class="pnext">"An ordinary deck was used at first—a deck out of +the satchel of the real estate man, the infamous member +of the conspiring trio who had marked the bank president's +cards. The bank president, as usual, had all of +the luck from the jump. He seemed to rake down every +pot. The three glared at him and made all sorts of insinuating +remarks about the phenomenal luck of the bank +president that had continued for a dozen years. The +bank president regarded them indulgently, and told them +they'd learn the elementary principles of the game after +they'd camped with him for another ten years or so.</p> +<p class="pnext">"After an hour's play the bank president beat the real +estate man—the other two had dropped out—out of a stiff +jackpot with a pair of better threes, and the real estate +man simulated great rage and tore the deck of cards into +many pieces.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'For heaven's sake, give us another deck!' he exclaimed, +passionately, with a furtive wink at his two companions +in crime.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The bank president reached back of him, collared +his grip, and produced one of his decks with a bland +smile. They surely were scientifically marked, for this +bank president had an eye in his head, and he didn't get +next.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well, we'll try one of my decks,' said the bank president. +'Of course, it'll be a shame to plug you with a +new musket—none of my decks has been riffled yet—but +maybe my unfamiliarity with the range of the fresh +gun'll give you all a show at me.' Oh, this bank president +was arrogant in victory, all right.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, he wasn't one, two, three, from then on, of +course. It was done mighty well, and not so as to excite +the bank president's suspicions in the least, but he +found himself topped practically every time, and his face +grew long. He was quite heavily in the hole at the end +of an hour's play with his own deck.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Oh, we've got on to your bluffing style of play, that's +all,' said the real estate man complaisantly. 'You just +had us scared together for the past ten years, but you're +as clear a proposition now as a mountain creek. I always +thought you were more or less of a counterfeit and +a four-flusher, anyhow, didn't you, fellows?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Of course the other two thought so, too, and the bank +president's brow clouded as, time after time, after he had +bet hard on hands that looked to him to be worth every +dollar he ventured on them, he found himself topped, niggered +out. The real estate man increased the bank +president's worry by flashing a nine-high straight against +the financier's eight-high straight, and then the latter did +a card-tearing stunt himself. He ripped his deck into +ribbons with a running commentary of strong talk.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'It must be a rank deck that'll permit of a set of +amateur skates like you fellows putting it on me,' he said. +Then he dug into his grip again and produced the other +'phony deck, his three companions warning him against +letting his angry passions rise, and so on.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The three conspirators let the bank president pull +down a couple of sizable pots with this deck just for the +sake of enjoying his renewed impertinence, and then they +went at him good and hard. At the end of an hour +they had the bank president's supply of ready cash—about +$500—badly wilted. He had only $100 left when it came +around the real estate man's turn to dish out a jackpot +round. The bank president was under the gun, as they +say out there of the man who's to the left of the dealer +of a jackpot, and he cracked the pot open for the limit. +The other two stayed, and when it got up to the real estate +man he raised it the limit. This knocked his two +confederates out of it—as a matter of fact the arch-conspirator +winked them out of it—but the limit was just +what the bank president wanted with his four bullets.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The bank president took one card with a crafty, I'll-make-him-think-I'm-four-flushing +expression of countenance. +The real estate man, with a queen-high sequence +flush of hearts remarked that the bunch he had was good +enough for him. Then they got to betting, and it was +no time at all before the bank president had done the +apology act with the remains of his $500. He pulled +out a check-book then and was fumbling around for a +fountain pen when the real estate man called him down.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Not on your life,' he said. 'Agreement was that +checks don't go, you'll remember.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'But this hand'——the bank president started to say.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Makes no difference about that hand,' interrupted +the real estate man. 'Agreement was for table stakes.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'But, great Cæsar, man,' pleaded the bank president. +'I want to get some kind of a decent run for this hand. +Why, I'd bet the clothes right off my back on it.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well,' said the real estate man calmly, 'we didn't +make any stipulation about clothes and personal possessions, +and you can get the clothes off your back if you +want to. But no checks.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well,' said the bank president, peeling off a big solitaire +ring, 'this stone's worth $400, and I'll raise you that +much.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I see you,' said the real estate man. 'What else have +you got that I can raise against?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well,' replied the bank president, 'this watch is +worth $300 and'——</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Skate it in,' interrupted the real estate man. 'Raise +you $300 then, your valuation of the ticker.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Dog-gone the luck,' said the bank president, 'I don't +want to call you. I know I've got you beat. I'd be +willing to bet my corduroys, shoes and hat that I've got +you soaked, for'——</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Rush 'em to the center, then,' calmly replied the real +estate man. 'Supposing I appraise the corduroys, shoes +and hat at $50 for the bundle. That satisfactory?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'It's got to be,' replied the bank president mournfully.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'All right, then, put 'em in the pot and I'll consider +that you've called me,' said the real estate man.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The bank president stood up, peeled off his coat and +waistcoat and hunting breeches and dropped them on the +blanket that served for a table. Then he removed his +pair of high hunting shoes and placed them on top of the +clothes, and tossed his fore-and-aft cap on the heap. Then +he sat down in his underclothes, picked up his four aces, +and said:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Now, dern you, put down your little straight or full +and I'll show you what you're up against.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"The wealthy depositors of the St. Louis bank of +which he was the head would have enjoyed seeing his +face when the real estate man calmly laid down his sequence +flush and hauled down the pot, togs and all, without +a word.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'You're a good thing, ain't you?' said the other two, +who had been taking the play in with a positive knowledge +of how it was going to come out.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The bank president looked pretty forlorn as the three +sat there and guyed him. Finally he stood up.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well,' said he to the real estate man. 'I'll just write +you a check for the fifty you allowed on those togs of +mine,' and he started to reach for the clothes in order to +dress himself. The real estate man held the suit, shoes +and hat out of the bank president's reach.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'These things ain't for sale,' he said. 'They'll all +just about fit me,' trying on the hat, 'and I guess I'll +just hang on to them as a sort of No. 2 outfit.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'But, great Scott, man!' exclaimed the bank president, +'don't you know that I haven't got another stitch +in camp—that that rig-out's the only one I brought from +the car?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Too bad,' said the real estate man. 'You hadn't +ought to've skated the togs into the pot, then. Sorry, +old man, but honest, I really couldn't think of parting +with these things for any amount of money. I've only +got one suit along with me, too, and only one hat and +pair of shoes, and if they get wet what am I going to do? +Got to have a change, you know. I really feel very +deeply for you in your predicament, and so do the other +boys—don't you fellows?—but I need this outfit in my +business.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"The other two men nodded their heads in grave endorsement +of this stand and the bank president frothed at +the mouth.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'What the devil do you expect me to do, you blamed +idiot?' he shouted at the real estate man. 'Stand around +the tent and shiver, or cut across the trail in my underclothes +for the car to get another set of togs?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I wish I could think of some plan to help you out, +old man,' answered the real estate man with commiseration +in his countenance, 'but I really couldn't think, under +any consideration, of giving up these things,' and he made +the suit, the shoes and the hat up into a neat bundle as +he spoke. Just then one of the other men, who had been +prowling outside, came running into the tent breathless.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Say, fellows,' he exclaimed, 'there's some fresh bear +tracks right over there in the clearing,' and he grabbed +his gun. So did the other two. The bank president +made as if to pick up his rifle, too, when his eye fell on +his lack of raiment. By that time the real estate man +was fifty yards from the tent, at a lope with the other two.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Hey, come back here, you confounded cut-throat!' +the financier yelled after the real estate man, who had +the bank president's clothes, shoes and hat slung in a +neat bundle over his shoulder. But the three men were +out of voice range in a jiffy.</p> +<p class="pnext">"They came back, beaming, along toward nightfall, +with the pelts of two nice young black bears. They +found the bank president moping around, wrapped up in +a blanket and sulphurizing the air when they reached the +tent. Then they sat around him in a circle and expressed +their sincere sympathy with him and told him his +case was only one more instance of the awful evil of +gambling. After supper and a pipe they all turned in, +leaving the bank president still sulking and uttering terrible +maledictions under his breath.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The real estate man and the other two went out early +the next morning—the bank president's clothes along with +them—and when they got back they found the blanketed +financier on the verge of apoplexy from sheer wrath. The +real estate man then made a great show of charity by giving +up the togs, and the bank president was in a state +of good-nature by the time camp was struck. The three +conspirators united in a letter of explanation, inclosing +all of their winnings, to the bank president when they +got back to St. Louis, and when the bank president got +the letter and his disgorged losings he was most tickled to +death and instantly became as perky and impudent as ever.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I knew you couldn't have done it if you'd played on +the square,' said he, the first time he met them. 'Wait +till next year, that's all.'"</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="the-nerve-of-gamblers-at-critical-moments"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id30">THE NERVE OF GAMBLERS AT CRITICAL MOMENTS.</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">Wherein It Is Shown That It Is Easy Enough to Be Cool When Playing with Another Man's Money.</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">"I happen to know that a considerable number of the +most famous professional gamblers in this country made +their reputation with other men's money," said a Rocky +Mountain man of large experience. "These men have +had their names heralded far and wide as the stakers +of thousands, and even hundreds of thousands, upon the +turn of a card, and innumerable yarns have been spun as +to their cool, John Oakhurst-like manner of scooping in +a table full of money upon the smashing of a bank, or of +calmly lighting their cigars and strolling out when fortune +went against them. So far as the stories themselves +are concerned, some of them are undoubtedly right; but +all of them leave out the very essential fact that the men +were simply players of other men's money—'table touts,' +we call 'em out West. I suppose it is a reasonable proposition +that it is a whole lot easier to risk another man's +money at the table than it is to endanger your own. Of all +the men I am telling you about hardly a one had enough +luck at the tables to keep himself warm when putting up +his own coin; perhaps it was owing to the extreme caution +of their play under these conditions and the far greater +strain involved in the hazarding of their own money. +They could take another man's money—the money of a +man who probably did not know the difference between +00 and 33 in a wheel layout, but who could afford to +venture almost an unlimited amount of money on a game—and +in at least eight cases out of ten they could run +the initial stake into a pile that would mean for themselves +a rake-off or percentage of thousands or tens of +thousands; but in venturing their own money I have seen +few of them who were any good in the matter of keeping +their nerve under rein.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Back in the sixties Tom Naseby was generally considered +the most dangerous man at a faro table on the +Pacific Slope. Bank after bank, from Portland to San +Diego, went to the wall under his system of play—or lack +of system, I ought to say—and at the end the San Francisco +banks shut him out altogether, so that he was compelled +to start a layout of his own. Among Naseby's +smashes that were famous on the coast was that of +breaking Byron McGregor's Kearny street institution to +the tune of $150,000; of hitting up Tillottson's $10,000 +limit game in San Francisco for $100,000 and closing the +doors, and of banging Ned Jordan's bank in Portland for +$125,000, all within the space of three months. Yet +Naseby told me himself that on none of these plays was +he venturing a <em class="italics">sou marqué</em> of his own money—that it +had all been handed over to him, the initial stakes for each +big play, that is, by Ralston, the millionaire San Francisco +banker, who committed suicide. Out of each winning +Naseby of course got a big cut of the money, for +Ralston went into the thing for the sport of it and was a +very generous man. Naseby, who belonged to the tribe of +savers for a rainy day, hung onto these rolls. Naseby +played faro with just about as much skill as a Zulu wields +a war club, and he frankly confessed that his coups were +simply the result of unlimited confidence and unlimited +backing allied to bull-head luck.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Frank Burbridge, the most famous poker player that +Portland has ever brought out, was another man who +made his reputation as a gambler upon the strength of +the vast winnings he hauled out upon stakes furnished by +wealthy men. Some of these rich backers of Burbridge +remained behind the screen and only received Frank's +reports as to how he made out in the games for which +they staked him, but others came out into the open and +sat alongside Burbridge when he was playing with their +money—not for the purpose of watching him, for he was +strictly on the level, but just for the fun of watching the +game. One of the big contractors for the building of the +Oregon Short Line, a man worth many millions of dollars, +was one of Burbridge's clients who liked to watch +the expert poker player play the hands. He was constantly +staking Burbridge for big games with dangerous +opponents. If Frank won, all right; he got most of the +money himself. If he lost, all right, too; the contractor +simply went into the thing for the mental distraction it +afforded him.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I was a witness of one of those big games in which +Burbridge engaged with a stake furnished by the contractor. +It was played at the old Willamette House in +Portland, and it was a two-handed game. The other +player was a very wealthy Portland man who was said +to have made a big pot of money by simply making the +suggestion that he intended to parallel the Oregon Short +Line. This rich man thought he knew how to play poker +until his friend, the contractor of the Short Line who +was Burbridge's staker, put him up against the latter—partly +for the interest of watching the game, and partly, +perhaps, for other reasons. Anyhow, the Portland man +had a whole heap of an opinion of what he knew about +poker, and played the game incessantly for pastime. He +had never happened to sit in a game with Burbridge, and +Burbridge's backer finally suggested to the Portland man +that he have a try at what he could do with the man +who was known to be the most expert player of poker in +the Northwest.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Oh, he's a professional,' said the Portland man, +'and I don't play cards with professionals in a contest of +skill such as I see you want to make this. I play with +'em once in a while just to study their games, but not +for big money. I wouldn't trust them under such circumstances.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well, you trust me, I suppose, don't you?' said the +contractor.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Certainly,' was the reply.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'All right, my friend,' said the contractor, 'I'd just +like to find out to satisfy my own curiosity how good you +can play poker. I don't amount to much at it myself, +and I don't think you're any better than I am. Very +well. You sit into a game with Burbridge, and I'll +deal all the hands myself, and sit by to see fair play—though +Burbridge plays just as fairly as I would myself +under the same circumstances. Does that proposition +suit you?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Yes,' said the Portland man, 'I'd just like to give +Burbridge a whirl under those circumstances.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"So the game was arranged. Four or five of us +were invited around to the old Willamette House to +look on while the game progressed. The two +men sat down to the game about 8 o'clock at night. The +Portland man—I will call him Tunwell, which is pretty +close to his right name—had occasionally met Burbridge, +who was a very smooth, urbane sort of chap of thirty, +and so they nodded good-naturedly to each other when +Tunwell came into the room. The contractor was on +hand with his check-book. The conditions were simply +that the contractor was to deal each of the hands, and +then retire from the table with the remainder of the deck +until the call for cards. Then he was to dish out what +cards were called for, and get away from the table again +until the hand was played. The rest of us were to sit +around, with the privilege of having peeps at the hands. +Tunwell was to have the privilege of asking the advice of +any of us as to proper plays, as Burbridge was to be permitted +to refer hands that heavily involved the contractor's +purse to the latter—not to seek advice, but simply to +inform him what he intended to do in the play. The +game was to be without limit, and the chips were worth +$5, $25, and $50.</p> +<p class="pnext">"So the game began. Tunwell soon proved himself +a pretty cool man. He didn't put up a stingy game, but +he simply had the proper sort of regard for the worth +of the cards the contractor dished out to him, and he +played them right, as we who were watching the game +and had a chance of seeing both hands soon discovered. +Two or three times in the early part of the game I, for +one, thought he was a bit overcautious, but in general +his line of play was away above the average. Tunwell +was a big, gray-eyed man of the type that is jammed +full of well-controlled nerve, and he held himself on this +night in additional check because he knew that he was up +against a hard proposition. The play at first didn't +amount to much—fifty or hundred-dollar bets occasionally—and +both men seemed to be sparring for information +on the style of each other's play. Tunwell finally decided +upon a bluff. He had a nine high, and he went up to +$500 on it. Burbridge laid down. This was pretty good +for Tunwell, but he had the sense to show no exultation. +Now, after making a thing like that go through, +most men would keep on bluffing until called when on +steep and craggy ground, but Tunwell didn't. He resumed +the system of playing for what his hands +were worth. This he stuck to for half an hour or +so, when he was $800 ahead of the game and then +he made another bluff on a pair of queens. Burbridge, +who had three aces, laid down, and Tunwell's pile was +amplified by $1,000.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'That was a cold bluff, Burbridge,' said Tunwell.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Oh, I don't think so,' said Burbridge. 'There was +too much confidence in your eye for that.' Which shows +that even a great poker player is as likely as anybody to +get mixed when it comes to studying eyes in a game.</p> +<p class="pnext">"After a while Burbridge caught a pat full house, and +Tunwell filled a still better full hand. It was Tunwell's +bet, and he went $1,000 on it. Burbridge laid down—wherein +it was plain to be seen that he was a man who +possessed that indefinable thing, the poker player's +'hunch.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Now, all these plays I'm telling you about were simply +part of the warming up. The two men were simply +studying each other. They didn't really begin to play +poker until two hours after they sat down.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Then the contractor dealt Burbridge a promising set +of threes, and gave Tunwell a neat two pairs, with aces +on top. Tunwell filled with another ace, and Burbridge +got nothing worth mentioning in the draw, so that his +three nines didn't look very big to us against an ace full. +It was Burbridge's bet. He was one of those men who +lay their cards down on the table and look up at the ceiling +before making a bet.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Five thousand dollars,' said he finally, still looking +up at the ceiling reflectively, and the contractor, who had +seen Tunwell's draw, winced a bit.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Tunwell looked at him pretty hard and scanned his +hand. He raised him $5,000.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'And $5,000,' said Burbridge, quietly. Now, the +contractor was a pretty game sort of man, but we could +see that he felt badly over this.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Then Tunwell laid down. Burbridge's bluff worked. +Of course, not until after the game did we tell him what +Tunwell held that time, and when we did he said:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I felt from the first, before I made a bet that he +had me beat—but the bigger a man's hand, the easier it is +to bluff him out of the money.' Queer remark, wasn't +it?</p> +<p class="pnext">"Tunwell kept his nerve like a major after this heavy +fall, and we couldn't see the slightest sign of faltering +in his style of play. The game went back to the $100 +basis, and was comparatively uninteresting for an hour or +so. In the course of the play during this time Tunwell +caught four queens pat—a very remarkable thing—and +got 50 only out of the hands. But unlike what most +poker players would do under such circumstances, he +didn't throw down the hand face upward on the table +with an oath. He wasn't that kind of poker player.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Just about midnight both men simultaneously decided +upon a bluff—and it's not often that men happen to do +this in a two-handed poker game; when they do, something +always drops. Both men stood pat. There wasn't +a pair in either hand. It was a choice experience to note +the offhand way with which Burbridge made the first +bet on this pat hand of his.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Ten thousand dollars,' said he, and his backer, the +contractor, went to the window, raised it, and poked his +head out for air.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Same, more than you,' said Tunwell, scanning his +hand as if it was the real thing.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Burbridge raised him another $10,000 and flicked a +bit of ashes off his collar. Now Tunwell felt that his +man was bluffing.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I call you,' said he.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Ace high,' said Burbridge.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Ace high here,' said Tunwell.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Queen next.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Queen next here.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Nine next.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Nine next here.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Six next.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Tunwell tossed his four that was next on to the table +face upward without the movement of an eyebrow.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Six wins the $60,000,' said he, and the contractor +strolled back from the window.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Better luck next time, Tunwell,' said he, smiling, +while Burbridge drank a glass of water.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'There isn't going to be any next time, my boy,' returned +Tunwell. 'I'm no hog.'"</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="the-insidious-game-of-squeeze-spindle"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id31">THE INSIDIOUS GAME OF SQUEEZE-SPINDLE.</a></h2> +<div class="center line-block noindent outermost"> +<div class="line"><em class="italics">And How a Whirl at It Came Near Decimating the Population of a Section of the Indian Territory.</em></div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">"I don't just recall the name of the cheerful worker +who invented that wise phrase, 'There's a sucker born +every minute, and they never die,' but whoever he was he +had something inside his head besides mayonnaise dressing," +said a giant from the Indian Territory, when the +talk among a party of Westerners at a roadhouse the +other night switched around to sure-thing games and +cinch propositions. "I don't suppose there ever was yet a +sure-thing game rigged up that didn't get its quota of +nibblers, and even its occasional easy marks, who'd go up +against it with their whole rolls. I'm not speaking so +much now of brace games as I am of layouts that might +just as well have the words, 'You lose,' painted all over +'em, they're such obvious air-tights for the dealers. I +suppose we've all been up against brace faro. That's +something that a man can't heel himself against; the most +he can do when he gets next to it that two of 'em are +slipping out of the box at one and the same time is to +'stick up' the dealer at the business end of a .45—if he's +quick enough—accumulate all the money in sight, and +back toward the door.</p> +<p class="pnext">"But a man who'll lay up alongside of a brace faro +layout or a brace wheel need not necessarily be sucker +enough to hand his dust over to a smooth duck who's +dealing a game that has all the scars, moles, tattoo marks +and other perfectly visible Bertillons of a dead open and +shut sure-thing layout. Yet I've seen men who were wise +in their own business—horse-rustling, for instance—go +broke against games that you'd think a ten-year-old would +size up correctly without the assistance of an X-ray apparatus.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I'm thinking of the time that Jink McAtee, afterward +one of the foxiest horse-thieves who ever used an +upside-down brand in the Southwest, got interested in +squeeze-spindle in Guthrie. It was in Guthrie, in May, +1889, just after Oklahoma had been opened up, that the +two Reeves brothers, Bill and Al, and Arthur Pendleton +started an all-round layout in what was the first two-story +shack that had been thrown up in the town. The +two Reeves boys are still running the biggest layout +in Guthrie, but Pendleton is dead. The Reeves-Pendleton +brand of faro, as well as their keno, wheel, stud, +and other legitimate games, was perfectly on the level, +but in addition they had a few games in operation that +was plain cases to most of the patrons of the layout of +the sure-thing. The Reeves and Pendleton people didn't +club anybody into stacking up against their sure-thing +games. They just started 'em going, hired a man named +Gately to run 'em, and struck the attitude that if among +the sooners and boomers of Guthrie there was people +imbecile enough to want to hit up these sure-thing games, +it wasn't their funeral.</p> +<p class="pnext">"The most alluring among these sure-thing games was +the outfit called the squeeze-spindle. You used to run +across a squeeze-spindle quite often down in the Southwest, +but so many of the dealers of that game got shot +up and slithered that it has sort o' passed out. It's a +lottery game ostensibly, where the player makes what the +dealer calls 'conditional' winnings, and the dealer has to +have the assistance of 'boosters' to throw confidence into +the suckers. It took a good con man to run a squeeze-spindle +game. The sucker would put up a hundred to +win five hundred; he'd cop the coin 'conditionally'—that +is to say, the arrow that flew around in the middle +of the box had to point to another number of the sucker's +selection before the money would be his to walk away +with, and in the event of the arrow pointing to the right +number the player would get twice the sum.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Of course the arrow never went the sucker's way +twice hand-running, and equally, of course, it was a +game where the dealer got all of the money. The reason +it was called a squeeze-spindle was because the dealer +had only to squeeze a button beneath the table to stop +the arrow at any old point in its flight around the numbers +that he wanted to. When a sucker was up against +the game, a 'booster' would prance in with a big roll of +the house's money, treble it on a couple of straight turns +of the spindle, squeezed just his way by the dealer, and +then the sucker would conclude that it was only his lack +of capital that caused him to lose—just as the pin-head +who doubles on favorites at the races tries to convince +himself when's he's broke and smoking a punk pipe that +he'd have been able to put all the bookmakers out of business +if he'd just had the capital to keep on with his system. +Once in a great while a squeeze-spindle dealer +would let one of his good things get away with a bunch +of money, if he felt reasonably sure that the sucker would +come back at it with the coin later on; and thus the +ingenuous little fiction 'ud go around that So-and-So +had pasted a squeeze-spindle dealer for his whole roll, and +this would make business.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Now, here was a game that you wouldn't think a +man with the sense he was born with would bet twenty +cents worth of zinc money on. But this man Gately, who +ran the squeeze-spindle for the Reeves-Pendleton layout +on a salary and commission basis, was a pretty smooth +gazzabo in his generation, and he landed the good things +with his layout right along, and often for sizeable money. +He was a quiet, red bearded chap, with a mighty convincing, +persuasive way about him, and a man who'd +put up a fight, too, in a corner. He had free rein in the +running of the squeeze-spindle and two or three other +sure-thing devices that formed a sort of side-show to +the main Reeves-Pendleton layout, and the proprietors +pretended that his outfit was really independent of their +plant—that Gately was simply renting space from them +and going it alone. But all Guthrie knew differently.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, up against this squeeze-spindle plant goes this +here Jink McAtee that I started to tell you about. Jink +wasn't then known as a horse-thief. He had been a +sooner—he got in long before the trumpet call on a thoroughbred +Kentucky horse that he was afterward found +to have pinched out of a barn—and he had made a pretty +good thing out of the Guthrie corner lot that he had staked +off. He sold it three days after the dash for $6000, and +then he laid back on his liquor with a whole lot of content. +He was a low forehead in looks and manners. He was +the veriest duffer in his attempts to make the Reeves-Pendleton +combination put up their shutters by attacking +their square games, and he lost over $3000 of his corner-lot +money at their faro tables. He blew in another +couple of thousand of the bunch at the honkatonks +around town before his little beady eyes fell on Gately's +squeeze-spindle, and he perceived a chance to get all of +his money back in jig-time. Gately pointed it out to +him just how easy it was.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Before McAtee put a dollar down on the spindle +Gately got Jink's eyes to popping by roping in a booster +who pulled $3200 out of the squeeze-spindle in quicker +time than a cayuse could make two jumps, and when +Gately looked chagrined and sorrowful McAtee bit. +Gately knew his man pretty well, and he permitted Jink +to not only win $1600 'conditionally,' right off the reel, +but he actually passed $400 of Jink's winnings over to +him. Then he proceeded to wipe Jink out. When +McAtee was all trimmed up, Gately looked sad.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'You didn't have quite enough along with you, McAtee,' +he said, shaking his head real mournfully. 'If +you'd had another $200 to cover that $1600 that you'd +won and left in the hole, why, you'd had me heading +for the Canadian River by this time.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"McAtee ate this spiel of Gately's up as if it was so +much lunch on a counter, and went away filled with the +idea that there was riches in the squeeze-spindle if it was +hit right, and with enough money to back up the plays. +So he went to just eleven of his sooner friends and talked +squeeze-spindle to 'em. He put it to them just what a +good thing the squeeze-spindle was rightly hammered. +He told 'em how near he'd been to pulling out his losings, +and more besides, through the medium of Gately's +squeeze-spindle at the Reeves-Pendleton layout. They +took Jink's word for it, and they all joined the pool that +McAtee organized to smash that spindle. They got together +$2600, and on the afternoon following Jink's play +they walked down to the Reeves-Pendleton plant in a +body. Each man had a rifle along with him. There +wasn't anything remarkable about that. During the first +year of Guthrie's existence every man carried a long-iron +over his arm. If twelve men, all with rifles, were to +line up in front of the Reeves-Pendleton layout in Guthrie +to-day there'd be good reason for the people inside to +suppose that they were going to be 'stuck up,' but there +was no reason to suppose anything of the kind when Jack +McAtee brought along his eleven subscribers to his +squeeze-spindle-smashing pool that afternoon. Gately +wasn't worried a little bit.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'My friends is all got a interest in this, podner,' explained +Jink to Gately, 'and they come along jest t' see +th' play.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Certainly,' said Gately, and then Jink and his bunch +began to get action on the spindle. It all went their +way at first. Gately didn't actually hand them any +money out, but he let 'em make 'conditional' wins until +they had their whole $2600 on the layout. Another correct +twist of the arrow would enable Jink to double the +money; on the other hand, if the arrow didn't hit the +right number, Jink and his bunch only stood to lose, as +Gately explained, $600 of their 'conditional' winnings.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Now, the situation was one calculated to rattle almost +any man. Gately didn't intend that Jink or his twelve +stalkers with the long-irons should get away with any of +that money, and it shows that he was a man of nerve +in making up his mind to that idea. He intended to +get the $2600 after a long series of plays, and then take +a chance on the Jink McAtee gang roaring and opening +up on him. That's what he intended to do. But he was +a bit rattled and stampeded over the intense way the +gang had of looking upon the plays, and that's how he +happened to make a mistake. He gave his button too +short a squeeze, and blamed if the arrow didn't stop at +precisely the number that stood to win Jink and his gang +$2600 of the house's money, in addition to pulling down +the $2600 they had in!</p> +<p class="pnext">"Gately saw his mistake almost as soon as he had +made it, but a booster named Gilpin, who was watching +the play, was the quicker thinker of the two. He jumped +off a stool upon which he had been standing looking +over the heads of Jink's crowd, and yelled out:</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Stand clear, there! Don't shoot!'</p> +<p class="pnext">"It was a ruse. Nobody had any idea of shooting. +Jink and his gang were simply flooded with joy over their +winning. But when they heard Gilpin's warning, they +all jumped back, and that was Gately's chance to redeem +his bad break. He snatched up the $5200—the rule of +the spindle game is that the dealer must show the same +amount of money the sucker has got in play, and Gately +had $2600 of the house's money spread out—and back he +jumped through the door, which led out into an alley. +Jink and his crowd were stupefied. They stood stock still. +Gately had gone with their money and the house's money, +and they didn't think of taking after him. They figured +it that the house would make good, perhaps. Anyhow, +by the time they came to, Gately had mazed it through +the wilderness of shacks of which Guthrie was already +composed, and Bill Reeves had appeared on the scene.</p> +<p class="pnext">"I had been with Bill in the main layout in the next +room, and we heard the shout of Gilpin. That's what +took us in there. Jink made his talk, which was a pretty +hot and threatening one, and he was backed up in it pretty +forcibly by all the rest of his gang.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Well, Gately jumped, that's all,' said Reeves. 'What +am I going to do about it?'</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Hand over $5200, quick,' said McAtee and some +others of his bunch.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I haven't got anything like that much money in the +place,' said Reeves. 'But I'll give you a check for it on +the bank down the way.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"They demurred over the check proposition for awhile, +but they finally took Bill Reeves's check for $5200. +While they were demurring, Bill Reeves had a chance to +scribble a note to the cashier of the bank, telling him not +to cash the check when it would be presented—to make +some excuse about not having just that amount of money +on hand, or something of that sort. Now, I didn't want +to be in that place at all just then, but there was no way +of my getting out. I had come into the room with Bill +Reeves, and I knew that if I tried to mosey away I'd +be called back; that they figured me to have some sort of +connection with the layout, which I didn't.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Jink took the check and went over to the bank to +get the money. The cashier turned the check down on +the ground that he had just shipped most of the bank's +money to St. Louis. We knew that there was going to be +trouble and a whole lot of it when Jink got back from the +bank with that word, and I don't think any of us expected +to last much longer. Jink came a-loping back +from the bank, and when he came into the room and tore +up the check with appropriate remarks his gang all lined +up together, and we figured it that the shooting was going +to begin right then. When the whole situation looked +so squally that I had my eye on the nearest window to +drop out of, Arthur Pendleton popped into the room.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'What's all this?' he yelled, for there was a lot of +clicking going on in the room. Jink and his gang thought +they saw a final chance of getting their money. So, +smoldering, they told the story to Pendleton. Pendleton +was a shrewd man, a forceful talker, and a diplomat +from away back.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'All the money I've got, or that there is in the roll +just now,' he said, 'is $600,' pulling the roll out of his +pocket. 'You are perfectly welcome to that. When +Gately comes back, or when you get him, as I wish you +would, you can have the rest that's coming to you out of +the roll he pinched.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"Well, the $600 looked like better than no bread to +Jink and his bunch, and they took it and went out after +Gately. It was getting along toward twilight. Reeves +and Pendleton figured it that Gately, in pulling down the +roll, had been acting in the interest of the house. They +hadn't the slightest notion that Gately had eloped with the +$5200. They thought he'd plant the money, keep out of +sight for a few days until the Jink McAtee push could +be compromised with, and then come back.</p> +<p class="pnext">"McAtee's gang beat up every shack in town thoroughly, +but there was no Gately. They whipped the +prairie for miles around, but they didn't spring Gately. +Gately had gone. The gang came back to the Reeves-Pendleton +layout, all of 'em pretty ugly. Pendleton got +them bunched, made a speech to them to the effect that if +Gately wasn't corralled within a week he'd make good the +whole amount coming to them out of his own pocket, +and soft-soaped them into accepting those terms. They +dispersed.</p> +<p class="pnext">"When Gately didn't come back the next day, or give +any indication to his employers where he was, they got +worried.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I think Gately has drilled,' Pendleton said to me +that day. 'He's an Iowan, and there's going to be a big +conclave and tournament of firemen in Council Bluffs +next week. I'll bet Gately has made for Council Bluffs. +I'm going after him. Come along with me.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"I told Pendleton that I hadn't anything to do with +the game, but I wasn't overlooking business propositions, +and when he offered me 50 per cent. of all the money +we might reclaim from Gately, I went with him. We +got onto Gately's trail in Council Bluffs, as Pendleton +had shrewdly guessed we might, but he had been tipped +off that we were after him, and he chased over to Omaha. +We were right after him, and he jumped for a town in +Southwestern Iowa called Red Oak. We were hot on +his trail, and we met up with him squarely next day in +Red Oak.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Let's have the money, Gately,' said Pendleton.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'I'll pass you back the house bunch, $2600,' said +Gately, 'but the rest of it I keep,' and he looked as if he +meant it, good and hard, at that.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'How do you make that out a square deal?' asked +Pendleton.</p> +<p class="pnext">"'Because,' replied Gately, pretty convincingly, 'it was +me that took the chance. I made a mistake, and stood +to lose the house's $2600. If I hadn't taken a chance, +they'd have got the coin. If I'd have won their $2600, +your shack would have been shot into a sieve, and me into +the bargain. It was a case of run. I had to do the running. +I earned the $2600, and I hang on to it.'</p> +<p class="pnext">"It struck me that this was pretty square talk, and I +told Pendleton so, and advised him to cut out any idea +of getting all the money back from Gately through the +medium of a gun-play. Gately handed out $2600, and then +he told us how he had got away. He had struck across the +prairie for Mulhall, and some of the McAtee gang, in +scouring the country a-horseback, had not only been right +behind him, but they had passed him. He heard them +coming from behind, and he thought they had recognized +him in the twilight. He didn't dare to look back, but he +stooped down as if to tie his shoe, and looked at them +under his arm while in that stooping posture. They didn't +figure that the man they were after would be taking things +so leisurely as all that, and so they passed right by him +in the gathering gloom, a-hunting Gately. Gately got +to Mulhall, and took the first train up for Omaha.</p> +<p class="pnext">"Before we got back to Guthrie, Jink McAtee and +several of his pals in the pool to smash the Gately squeeze-spindle +had been given the sudden chase by the United +States Deputy Marshals for some horse-rustling operation +of theirs that had just come to light, and when Jink +McAtee got shot full of slugs by a posse down in the +Brazos bottoms, three years later, the Reeves-Pendleton +layout still stood indebted to him in the sum of $4600 +with accrued interest, the balance that Jink and his push +did not pull down in their attempt to stampede a squeeze-spindle +layout."</p> +<hr class="docutils"/> +<div class="level-3 section" id="nine-splendid-novels-by-william-macleod-raine"> +<h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title"><em class="italics">Nine Splendid Novels by</em> WILLIAM MacLEOD RAINE</h3> +</div> +<div class="level-3 section" id="the-pirate-of-panama"> +<h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title">THE PIRATE OF PANAMA</h3> +<p class="pfirst">A tale of old-time pirates and of modern love, hate and adventure. The +scene is laid in San Francisco on board <em class="italics">The Argus</em> and in Panama. A romantic +search for the lost pirate gold. An absorbing love-story runs through +the book.</p> +<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">12mo. Cloth, Jacket in Colors. Net $1.25.</em></p> +</div> +<div class="level-3 section" id="the-vision-splendid"> +<h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title">THE VISION SPLENDID</h3> +<p class="pfirst">A powerful story in which a man of big ideas and fine ideals wars against +graft and corruption. A most satisfactory love affair terminates the story.</p> +<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Net $1.25.</em></p> +</div> +<div class="level-3 section" id="crooked-trails-and-straight"> +<h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title">CROOKED TRAILS AND STRAIGHT</h3> +<p class="pfirst">A story of Arizona; of swift-riding men and daring outlaws; of a bitter feud +between cattle-men and sheep-herders. The heroine is a most unusual woman +and her love-story reaches a culmination that is fittingly characteristic of the +great free West.</p> +<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Popular Edition 50 cents.</em></p> +</div> +<div class="level-3 section" id="brand-blotters"> +<h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title">BRAND BLOTTERS</h3> +<p class="pfirst">A story of the Cattle Range. This story brings out the turbid life of the +frontier with all its engaging dash and vigor with a charming love interest +running through its 320 pages.</p> +<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Jacket in Colors. Popular Edition 50 cents.</em></p> +</div> +<div class="level-3 section" id="mavericks"> +<h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title">"MAVERICKS"</h3> +<p class="pfirst">A tale of the western frontier, where the "rustler," whose depredations are +so keenly resented by the early settlers of the range, abounds. One of the +sweetest love stories ever told.</p> +<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Popular Edition, 50 cents.</em></p> +</div> +<div class="level-3 section" id="a-texas-ranger"> +<h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title">A TEXAS RANGER</h3> +<p class="pfirst">How a member of the most dauntless border police force carried law into +the mesquit, saved the life of an innocent man after a series of thrilling adventures, +followed a fugitive to Wyoming, and then passed through deadly peril +to ultimate happiness.</p> +<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Popular Edition, 50 cents.</em></p> +</div> +<div class="level-3 section" id="wyoming"> +<h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title">WYOMING</h3> +<p class="pfirst">In this vivid story of the outdoor West the author has captured the breezy +charm of "cattleland," and brings out the turbid life of the frontier with all +its engaging dash and vigor.</p> +<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Popular Edition, 50 cents.</em></p> +</div> +<div class="level-3 section" id="ridgway-of-montana"> +<h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title">RIDGWAY OF MONTANA</h3> +<p class="pfirst">The scene is laid in the mining centers of Montana, where politics and mining +industries are the religion of the country. The political contest, the love +scene, and the fine character drawing give this story great strength and charm.</p> +<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Popular Edition, 50 cents.</em></p> +</div> +<div class="level-3 section" id="bucky-o-connor"> +<h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title">BUCKY O'CONNOR</h3> +<p class="pfirst">Every chapter teems with wholesome, stirring adventures, replete with the +dashing spirit of the border, told with dramatic dash and absorbing fascination +of style and plot.</p> +<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Popular Edition, 50 cents.</em></p> +</div> +<hr class="docutils"/> +<div class="level-3 section" id="three-splendid-books-by-alfred-henry-lewis"> +<h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title">THREE SPLENDID BOOKS BY ALFRED HENRY LEWIS</h3> +</div> +<div class="level-3 section" id="faro-nell-and-her-friends"> +<h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title">FARO NELL AND HER FRIENDS</h3> +<p class="pfirst">A new story of "Wolfville" days—the best of all. It +pictures the fine comradeship, broad understanding and +simple loyalty of Faro Nell to her friends. Here we meet +again Old Monte, Dave Tutt, Cynthiana, Pet-Named +Original Sin, Dead Shot Baker, Doc Peets, Old Man Enright, +Dan Boggs, Texas and Black Jack, the rough-actioned, +good-hearted men and women who helped to +make this author famous as a teller of tales of Western +frontier life.</p> +<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Popular Edition. 50 Cents</em></p> +</div> +<div class="level-3 section" id="the-apaches-of-new-york"> +<h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title">THE APACHES OF NEW YORK</h3> +<p class="pfirst">A truthful account of actual happenings in the underworld +of vice and crime in the metropolis, that gives an +appalling insight into the life of the New York criminal. +It contains intimate, inside information concerning the +gang fights and the gang tyranny that has since startled +the entire world. The book embraces twelve stories of +grim, dark facts secured directly from the lips of the +police and the gangsters themselves.</p> +<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Popular Edition. 50 Cents</em></p> +</div> +<div class="level-3 section" id="the-story-of-paul-jones"> +<h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title">THE STORY OF PAUL JONES</h3> +<p class="pfirst">A wonderful historical romance. A story of the boyhood +and later life of that daring and intrepid sailor +whose remains are now in America. Thousands and tens +of thousands have read it and admired it. Many consider +it one of the best books Mr. Lewis has produced.</p> +<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Popular Edition. 50 Cents</em></p> +</div> +<hr class="docutils"/> +<div class="level-3 section" id="books-by-edward-marshall"> +<h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title">Books by Edward Marshall</h3> +</div> +<div class="level-3 section" id="batan-idyl-of-new-york"> +<h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title">BAT—An Idyl of New York</h3> +<p class="pfirst">"The heroine has all the charm of Thackeray's Marchioness in +New York surroundings."—<em class="italics">New York Sun.</em> "It would be hard to +find a more charming, cheerful story."—<em class="italics">New York Times.</em> "Altogether +delightful."—<em class="italics">Buffalo Express.</em> "The comedy is delicious."—<em class="italics">Sacramento +Union.</em> "It is as wholesome and fresh as the breath +of springtime."—<em class="italics">New Orleans Picayune.</em> 12mo, cloth. Illustrated. +$1.00 net.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-3 section" id="the-middle-wall"> +<h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title">THE MIDDLE WALL</h3> +<p class="pfirst"><em class="italics">The Albany Times-Union</em> says of this story of the South African +diamond mines and adventures in London, on the sea and in +America: "As a story teller Mr. Marshall cannot be improved +upon, and whether one is looking for humor, philosophy, pathos, +wit, excitement, adventure or love, he will find what he seeks, +aplenty, in this capital tale." 12mo, cloth. Illustrated. 50 cents.</p> +</div> +<hr class="docutils"/> +<div class="level-3 section" id="books-novelized-from-great-plays"> +<h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title"><em class="italics">BOOKS NOVELIZED FROM GREAT PLAYS</em></h3> +</div> +<div class="level-3 section" id="the-master-of-the-house"> +<h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title">THE MASTER OF THE HOUSE</h3> +<p class="pfirst">From the successful play of EDGAR JAMES. Embodying a wonderful +message to both husbands and wives, it tells how a determined +man, of dominating personality and iron will, leaves a faithful +wife for another woman. 12mo, cloth. Illustrated from scenes in +the play. Net $1.25.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-3 section" id="the-writing-on-the-wall"> +<h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title">THE WRITING ON THE WALL</h3> +<p class="pfirst"><em class="italics">The Rocky Mountain News</em>: "This novelization of OLGA NETHERSOLE'S +play tells of Trinity Church and its tenements. It is a +powerful, vital novel." 12mo, cloth. Illustrated. 50 cents.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-3 section" id="the-old-flute-player"> +<h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title">THE OLD FLUTE PLAYER</h3> +<p class="pfirst">Based on CHARLES T. DAZEY'S play, this story won the +friendship of the country very quickly. <em class="italics">The Albany Times-Union</em>: +"Charming enough to become a classic." 12mo, cloth. Illustrated. +50 cents.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-3 section" id="the-family"> +<h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title">THE FAMILY</h3> +<p class="pfirst">Of this book (founded on the play by ROBERT HOBART DAVIS), +<em class="italics">The Portland (Oregon) Journal</em> said: "Nothing more powerful has +recently been put between the covers of a book." 12mo, cloth. +Illustrated. 50 cents.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-3 section" id="the-spendthrift"> +<h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title">THE SPENDTHRIFT</h3> +<p class="pfirst"><em class="italics">The Logansport (Ind.) Journal</em>: "A tense story, founded on PORTER +EMERSON BROWNE'S play, is full of tremendous situations, +and preaches a great sermon." 12mo, cloth bound, with six illustrations +from scenes in the play. 50 cents.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-3 section" id="in-old-kentucky"> +<h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title">IN OLD KENTUCKY</h3> +<p class="pfirst">Based upon CHARLES T. DAZEY'S well-known play, which has +been listened to with thrilling interest by over seven million people. +"A new and powerful novel, fascinating in its rapid action. Its +touching story is told more elaborately and even more absorbingly +than it was upon the stage."—<em class="italics">Nashville American.</em> 12mo, cloth. +Illustrated. 50 cents.</p> +</div> +<hr class="docutils"/> +<div class="level-3 section" id="transcriber-s-notes"> +<h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title">Transcriber's Notes:</h3> +<p class="pfirst">Both "booky" and "bookie" used throughout text.</p> +<div class="vspace" style="height: 5em"> +</div> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 37477 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |