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Part 18

Forty Years a Gambler on the Mississippi · George H. Devol — chapter 18 of 47 · ~2,260 words · public domain

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"One of us? That old seedy cuss?" said the superintendent.

"Yes, he has been out West running a freight on a salary," replied the conductor.

POSING AS NIC. LONGWORTH'S SON.

On one occasion while traveling from New Orleans to Baton Rouge, I espied a gentleman who was a Judge at the latter place. He was a man of aristocratic bearing, and somewhat haughty in his manners. I started up my wheel after supper, and soon had a fine game. It was not long before I noticed a slick young man that I knew was from Cincinnati, walking arm and arm with the Judge, and apparently on terms of utmost intimacy with him. This slick young Cincinnatian had introduced himself as a son of the late Nicholas Longworth, who was well known up and down the river. He claimed that he was traveling for his health.

I had made up my mind that he was playing a dead card, as I did not think the Judge was of much force, though he always appeared to have plenty of money. They soon were playing euchre, and began talking about poker, and presently the Judge came to me and said, "Devol, will you loan me $500? I will pay you when Baton Rouge is reached. I am a sure winner," he continued, and looking at his hand, I saw the old familiar four queens and an ace, with which I had downed so many suckers. I must say I wanted to see him get it in the neck, and I was not disappointed. I took chances, and loaned him $500, and when I saw Longworth's would-be son putting it in his pocket that was the last time I ever beheld that money. The Judge never recognized me again. This is what an honest man gets when in bad company.

THE GOOD DEACON.

I was playing on the North Missouri Railroad, just out of Kansas City, having a man named Jeffers as a partner. One evening a fine looking, solid appearing gentleman came along, and appeared to take a great interest in the game, which was just for fun. Jeffers came up and insisted on betting, but I quickly replied that I did not care to bet, as I was only showing my friend the game so as to guard him against ever betting on it in case he ever saw it being played. Jeffers was so persistent that I finally yielded, at the same time telling him that the odds were so much in my favor that I would not mind venturing. "Why, I can pick up the right card every time," he said. At last, turning to my friend, I observed, "I have a great mind to let the fool lose his money." Accordingly I remarked, "I'll go you $100 that you can't," and at once pulled out a big roll, which made the solid man look bad. The play was made, and I won, which greatly amused my friend, who was anxious for my success, as the fellow had given me the dare in a blustering sort of way. Jeffers made no kick, but, picking up the cards, put a spot on one of them, which he showed my friend, threw the cards on the table, and said, "Throw again." My friend gave me a hunch, as he did not wish to see me worsted. I paid no attention to him, however, when Jeffers pulled out $200, played it, and won. Then, turning to my friend, he said, "Take $200, play it for me, and I'll pay you for your trouble." He did so, and won. I laughed, and let the old fellow know that I didn't think he had pluck enough to bet at any game.

"Oh, I would bet if the money I have was my own."

Then Jeffers began to work him, telling him that I was rich, and that they might as well have some of my money as not. "Just try it once," said the insinuating Jeffers. "Put the money in my hand, and when you win I will hand it back to you." Jeffers next offered to bet again, but I said I wouldn't bet with him, "but I will with my friend here, as his eyes are not so keen as yours." At last the old man pulled out $100, and I tried to make him put up more, but he stuck to the $100, when I said, "I will have to raise you $900"--as I had noticed that he had $1,000 in the roll. He wanted to take down his money, but I couldn't see it, so Jeffers told him if he didn't put up the $900 that he would lose what he had put up, so at last he laid it up, turned the card, and lost. Then I looked for fun.

At this moment the porter of the sleeper came in and told me that my wife wanted to see me for a moment. Excusing myself, I started back, with my friend at my heels, but the porter refused him admission to the sleeper. I was ready to get off at the first station, but waited until the train was under way, when I dropped off, only to find that some one else had done the same thing, and was rolling over in the sand. I went to see who it was, and there was my friend, considerably bruised and banged up.

"Do you live here?" I asked.

"Oh, no," he replied, "but I want my money back."

"Well, if that is what you got off for, you are a bigger fool than I took you to be, for not one cent will you ever get of that money."

He hung to me nearly all night, until I was compelled to tell my story to a man at the station, and get him to hitch up a horse for me and leave it standing behind a small hill, and have another horse ready in his barn so that he could follow me and show me the road. A bran new twenty-dollar bill consummated this arrangement.

I fooled around with the sucker for some time; then running, I mounted the horse and galloped off. The game worked to perfection. The old fellow bawled out that I had stolen a horse, and the owner mounted the other horse and pushed hard after me. When I had gone about four miles I slackened up and let him overtake me, and we reached another train going to Kansas City fifteen minutes before starting time. The owner of the horses returned to town and told the story that he had fired at me, and that I was wounded and bleeding, and, he feared, would die. Jeffers came up to Kansas City the next day, and was astonished to see me alive.

Several days after I came face to face on the street with my old friend, who at once had me arrested for stealing $1,000 from him. I went to the chief's office, and explained that I had neither stolen a horse nor robbed any body; that I had won the money at cards. The old fellow wanted the money back, and declared that he was a deacon in a church. Jeffers, the capper, came in when he heard that I was arrested, and told the chief that he had given the deacon ten dollars to win the bet for him, so the chief, in face of this evidence, had nothing to do but release me. The next day a prominent member of the church was scouring Kansas City for the good deacon, thinking he had absconded with the church funds. I never gave up a cent, though when they have passed around the hat I have always chipped in, and, during the last forty years, have probably contributed to churches ten times as much as the deacon lost, and never regretted it either.

NARROW ESCAPES.

There are a great many men who, whenever they lose any money, begin to kick, and oftentimes they will resort to very desperate means to recover back the money which they have honestly lost. Coming out of Canton, Miss., one night on the Jackson Railroad, I won some money in the smoking-car, and then retired to the sleeper and was reading a paper, when the conductor coming along said, "Are you the gentleman who won some money a short time ago in the smoker?"

"I am, sir."

"Well, you want to be on the lookout, as the parties are threatening to have it back or there will be blood."

Just then the three entered the car, and as I raised up my eyes the foremost one, a Pittsburger, said, "We are looking for you." "Well, you have found me at home; what is your business?" "We want our money back; and if we don't get it, you will never get off this train alive."

That was enough for me, and in a second I had my big gun leveled at the one nearest me, and I said, "If you move an inch I'll cook your goose for you sure." He fell back in good order, and in the next second the name behind him made a break at me, when I caught him with my big three-pound pistol, splitting his head open; and next I made a lunge for the third man, cutting him over the forehead so that he fell through a rack of glass, and when he raised up I struck him with my head. The conductor and brakeman interfered and took the ruffians out. There was a quart of blood on the floor; and at the first station they sent out and procured sticking-plaster. I paid the porter $12 to sponge up the blood and get the glass reset.

A man once pulled out his gun on me at Milan, whom I had beaten out of $100. I let on as though I would return it, until he turned his head away, when I hit him a stinging blow on the ear that doubled him up like a jack-knife. I took his pistol, and was arrested for winning his money and assaulting him; but when the Judge heard the testimony, he fined us both $5 and costs, amounting to $6.50. He gave the fellow a lecture for drawing a pistol, and I paid my fine and was off.

Another time in New Orleans, I was crossing the levee late one night with a valise full of money, when two men came from behind a cotton bale and started toward me. I pulled out my big pistol and told them an inch further and I would shoot. They weakened, and after they started I turned her loose, to enjoy the sport of seeing them run.

A CRAZY MAN.

One afternoon I started from Kansas City on the Missouri Pacific Railroad, and while seated waiting for the train to start I fell asleep. We had not gone more than ten miles when a crazy man, armed with a Colt's navy, entered the car. The passengers all fled, leaving me alone. Up rushed the lunatic and cracked me over the head a couple of times with so much force that I speedily awoke, and saw this wild-eyed man standing over me saying, "If you move I will kill you." I didn't move; only said, "You have made a mistake;" at which he backed out of the car. Thereupon the passengers all rushed in with revolvers in hand, wanting to know where that lunatic was. Though I have seen many crazy people since, I can never forget the terrible glare of those eyes, and can compare them to nothing but the fiery glare of a cat's eyes in the dark. I returned to Kansas City and laid up for some time, as the physicians feared that erysipelas would set in. It was not more than a week after this that the lunatic was seen on a house-top hurling bricks down on the passers-by. He was at last lassoed with a rope and taken to the station-house. He butted his brains out against the iron bars of his cell and killed himself.

EIGHT HUNDRED DOLLARS AGAINST A PISTOL.

I was playing monte one night on the Robert E. Lee, when a fellow stepped up to the table and bet me $800. I knew it was all the money he had, for he tried to make it $1,000 by putting up his watch; but in those days I would not turn for a watch unless it was a Juergunsen or very fine make. When he had lost his money and spent a few moments studying, he whipped out a Colt's navy and said, "See here, friend, that is all the money I have got, and I am going to die right here but I will have it back." I coolly said, "Did you think I was going to keep the money?" He replied, "I knew very well you would not keep it. If you had, I would have filled you full of lead. I am from Texas, sir;" and the man straightened himself up. Pulling out a roll of money, I said, "I want to whisper to you." He put his head down, and I said "that I didn't want to give up the money before all these people; that then they would want their money back; but you offer to bet me again, and I will bet the $800 against your pistol."

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