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Part 13

Forty Years a Gambler on the Mississippi · George H. Devol — chapter 13 of 47 · ~2,690 words · public domain

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Late that night a boat came along, and the miller skipped out. Morning came and I bade John Brogan good-bye. Poor fellow; he never knew why his marked cards didn't work, and I never told him. Both John Brogan and Neice have been dead many years, and, I trust, are happy in the spirit land--perhaps playing chuck-a-luck, marked cards, and concave reflectors with St. Peter and the Apostles.

THE BLACK MAN.

We were playing monte in the barber shop on board a steamer on one occasion, when a big black fellow, who had been watching the game through the window, asked me if I would bet with a black man. I had never gambled with the niggers, for in those days they were nearly all slaves, and had but little money, and I was looking for suckers who could afford to lose. So I inquired of this big fellow how much he wanted to bet. He said, "I'll bet five or ten dollars." I replied, "If that is all you have, you had better keep it; for I don't want to win a black man's money anyway." That got his African blood up, and he pulled out a pretty big roll, saying, "I got money, massa, if I is a black man." I saw he was well fixed, and so I asked him how he made his money. He replied, "I's a planter, sir, and I just done and sold my cotton." I took out ten twenty-dollar gold pieces, and said, "I will bet you all this against what you have in your hand." "Oh, no, honey," says he, "I got more'n dat." "Then I'll bet you this," I said, pulling out a thousand-dollar note. He put his money down and turned the card, and it was fun to see him open that big mouth, roll the whites of his eyes up, and then throw up both hands, ejaculating: "Laws golly! if dis old nigger hasn't done gone and lost his eyesight, sho 'nuf."

THE PERSUADER.

Bluff is a good game, and sometimes it will turn a trick when everything else fails. I boarded Morgan's Railroad, as it was called, upon one occasion at Algiers. Trains on that road were generally full of suckers, as the road connected with the Galveston steamers at Burwick's Bay. Tom Brown and Holly Chappell, my partners, were both along; and as game was plenty along the road, we carried our shotguns along, and in the event of no bigger game were accustomed to get off and shoot snipe, catching the return train to the city in the evening. Sure enough, there was a party of traders aboard, and Brown lost no time in making their acquaintance and opening out. One of them commenced to cut his clothes the minute he got a glimpse of the corner after Chappell made one cap. To make matters more binding, I came up and lost $1,200. Then the ball opened, and it was not more than half and hour before we had downed the party. Then the devil was to pay. One of the party said: "Look here; I must have my money back, or h--l will flop around here mighty quick." Then they all joined in and made a big kick; and as I saw fun brewing, I slipped into the baggage-car, changed hats and coats with the baggage-master, got his badge and my double-barrelled shotgun. Then I rushed into the car and drew the bead on the party who had collected around the boys, giving a war-whoop and demanding in stentorian tones, "Who has been playing cards in this car?"

"I have," said Brown.

"Get off this train mighty quick;" and I pulled the rope. My partners lost no time in getting off. Pulling the rope again, the train started; and when the conductor came back, I explained that somebody would have been hurt, had I not acted as I did. This was satisfactory, and going back he told the party that gambling on the road was against the rules, and that he could have them all arrested when the bay was reached, if he wished. This had the effect of quieting them down, especially as they knew that the man who had won their money was off the train. I was not long in reaching the baggage-car and returning the borrowed articles, and quietly slipping off at the first station, not forgetting my shotgun. Hunting was good that day, and I bagged ten snipe and thirteen robbins, which the boys helped me eat at our old friend Cassidy's restaurant, on Gravier Street, opposite the St. Charles Hotel. The boys all agreed that my conduct was all that saved the boodle, which consisted of $3,300 and two gold watches. Thus it is that a little management, backed by a double-barrelled shotgun and an official badge, is often times a powerful persuader.

I HAD FRIENDS.

I was coming down from Baton Rouge one night in a stern-wheel boat. The night before I had gone up and had been pretty lucky, so I resolved to try and reach New Orleans in time for the next evening's packet. McGawley, my partner at the time, was along; and as we took a survey of the passengers, we noticed that most of them were raftsmen who had just been paid off. They were a pretty tough lot, but appeared to be well heeled, so I was not long in making up my mind to see the color of their money. I managed to scrape an acquaintance with a couple of them, and invited them to drink; then I proposed a game of euchre, to which both agreed. We made it four- handed, and played for the drinks, then the cigars, until finally I resolved to feel one of them; so I ran him up a hand. He sat on my left, and ordered me up. I gave him the laugh and said, "I'll euchre you."

"I'll just bet you $20 you don't," he quickly replied.

"Here's $100 I do."

Borrowing $30 of his partner, he said, "I'll take that bet."

Of course I euchred him, as I said I would; but the game broke up, and as I was winner I paid the bar bill. It was not long before I noticed some of them talking suspiciously together among themselves, and I deemed it the part of prudence to slip into my state-room and get my gun, for then I was not particularly disturbed as to what they proposed to do. They began to patronize the bar pretty extensively, and asked the barkeeper who I was. He replied that he did not know. They said that one of the negroes had said that I was a gambler, and they were going to lick me before I got off the boat. The barkeeper soon found an opportunity to tell me what was up; and as I did not have much confidence in my partner as a fighter, I concluded I was in for it. I knew, however, that he was no coward, and if he was attacked would fight. The barkeeper handed me a "billy," and I strolled back to the barber shop, where several of them were gathered together. Returning through the cabin to the bar, I was accosted by one of them, but paid no attention. Two of them at last approached me as I stood with my back to the bar, when one of them remarked, "I don't think you won that money fair."

"I don't care a d--n whether I did or not," I quickly retorted. So he cut loose at me, and I caught his blow on my arm, let go my left duke and downed him at once. That was the signal for the circus to open. They all rushed in, and I began to lay them out as fast as I could with the billy. Every whack brought blood and a heavy fall. McGawley and the barkeeper took a hand, the former hurling a spittoon that cracked a fellow's head open and sent the blood spurting, while the latter brought a bottle on a raftsman's skull that raised a welt as big as a cocoanut. Then the Captain rushed in, and the mate followed with a gang of roustabouts, who soon had quiet restored. I was hit pretty hard with a chair, otherwise my injuries were not serious. I did not use my revolver, as none were drawn, for I never wanted to kill any man.

THE LAP-ROBE.

My dear old mother--she lived to be ninety-three years old--God bless her. I can see her now, with her silvered hair and tottering step. She used to pray for her wild son George, and on one occasion (I guess it was the result of her prayers) I did a good act that I have always been proud of, and I received the prayers of all the ladies of the church for it. I was in the South at the time, and on board a packet that was laid up at Natchez for a few hours. Some of the ladies of a prominent church there sent down a magnificently embroidered lap-rope, wishing to raise $100 on it. I took ten chances at $5 a chance, and then circulated among the passengers and easily raised a good sum. We shook the box, and one of my throws won. Of course I had to set up the wine; but I put up the robe again, and got one of the blackest men on the boat to throw for me, and a second time I won. A third time the robe went up, and this time for good; but not until $400 was realized, which was sent to the delighted ladies. I think that money spent did me more good than any that I ever squandered, for I was the recipient of the thanks as well as the prayers of the ladies.

THE PREACHER AWAY FROM HOME.

Ever since the days when Joseph's brothers gambled for his coat of many colors when they put him in the pit, the desire to venture in games of chance has been rampant in the human breast, and even "men of the cloth" have proved no exception to the rule. I recall an instance when I was going down the river on the Natchez. As I got aboard the boat I said to myself, "Everything looks blue; I've got no partner, and I don't think there is a dollar in sight." I scanned over the faces of the passengers, and soon found one of the old boys who formerly used to play a little, but who had now foresworn cards and become a prominent railroad magnate in New Orleans. Bob and myself were soon talking over old times and sipping juleps, until at last we got a stack of chips and a deck of cards, and began to play for a small limit.

Presently a tall, portly, fine looking gentleman came up to the table, and appeared to be so interested that I invited him to take a hand, as we were playing for a small limit just to pass away time. He readily consented, and the game went on smoothly enough, when I ran him out three queens and helped myself to three kings, and gave Bob the office to remain in, as I wanted him to cross- lift, which he did. The game was a two-dollar limit, and at last we got him in for about fifty dollars before the draw. After the draw things livened up; he bet two dollars, Bob went two better, and I chipped in two better than both of them. We got him in for about $100, when he borrowed $20, and we still kept on raising him until we were confident he could raise no more money. Hands were shown, and the portly man wilted like a leaf before a November blast, but never even murmured a kick, and I soon knew the reason why, for Captain Leathers came up to me and whispered: "Why, George, do you know who that was you were playing with?" "I do not." "He's a preacher; I have heard him in the pulpit many a time, and I know that he stands very high all along the coast. I don't know what to make of his gambling here to-night." I never mentioned his name, and I knew the Captain would not; and as for Bob, he'd never say a word, for he was afraid I'd give the snap away; and as for me, I had my reasons for keeping quiet, since Bob was always generous with his passes, and John Kilkenny would have the laugh on him; for all are now strict church goers.

A SHREWD TRICK.

Some men are born rascals, some men have rascality thrust upon them, others achieve it. This is a story of a chap that I think must have had a birthmark of knavery somewhere concealed about his body. It was during the war, and I was going up on the steamer Fashion, Captain Pratt. I was dealing red and black, and had a big game, as there were a number of cotton buyers on board. One of them was a fine appearing gentleman from New York, who was soon $3,800 loser; then he began to play reckless, and was still followed by his bad luck. I noticed his nervousness, and came to the conclusion that he was not playing with his own money.

Finally looking up, he said, "How much will you turn for?"

Noticing his excited condition, I said, "Put down as much as you think proper, and if you go too high I'll tell you." With that he pulled out a long pocket-book, and drawing forth a roll of hundred- dollar bills threw them on the red. I picked up the money and counted it, and found there were thirty-three one-hundred-dollar bills.

"That's beyond my limit," I said; "but as I know you are a great deal heavier loser than that, I'll give you a chance to get even, so crack her down."

I made a turn, he lost. With a trembling hand and wild eye he counted out the balance of his money and laid it before me, saying: "This is my last bet; if I lose, there is $4,000, and there is $200 more. Will you turn for it?"

"Lay her up," was all I said.

Down it went, just as any high-roller would do if he had some one else's money; he lost, and fell back in his chair in a dead faint; ice water was brought and he was revived. After the game he came to me and said, "Not a dollar of that money was my own; it belonged to a wealthy New York firm, one of the members of which I was to meet in New Orleans, and render an account." I told him that he would have to say that the money was invested in cotton that would be shipped in a few days. "That will give you time to skip," I said, "for the affair is bound to come out, and then you will be in trouble."

"No," he said, "I won't run away. I have thought of a plan that will let me out of the scrape. There is another man on the boat who is buying for the same firm. I will go to him and get a bundle of money which I will hand to you privately, and then you come before the passengers and hand it to me. You can say, 'I don't want your money, so here it is, take it.' I will thank you kindly, and there will be plenty of witnesses to say that I did not lose the money gambling." I did exactly as the fellow wanted, much to the astonishment of the passengers, who said that I must either be the biggest-hearted man in the country, or the biggest fool that ever ran unhung, to give a man back that much money after fairly winning it.

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