Part 20

There was a Jew sitting just behind us who had been watching the game, and he saw Tripp out on the platform, so he laughed and said, "You see that fellow? He gets off when he wins your moneys."

The old superintendent jumped up, put away his papers, and said: "What's this? Some one been gambling in this car?"

The Jew told him that the fellow with the slouch hat had won $600 from the big fat man, and $500 from me. I told my fat friend it was no one's business if we lost our money; so when the old gent, who had been watching his papers just long enough for us to get our work in, came up to us and asked if we had lost our money, my fat friend said, "It's none of your business; the money did not belong to you."

Just then the conductor came in, so the superintendent said to him: "Those d----d villains have played their games right under my very nose, beat these d----d fools out of over $1,000, and got off. Now, if any one comes into my office and tells me our conductors are in with the d----d gamblers, I will take a club and knock his d----d brains out. You attend to the train hereafter, and let the d----d suckers take care of themselves."

The conductor said, "All right, sir."

The old fellow was so hot that he went out into another car to cool off. My fat friend bid me good-bye soon after, and asked me to call on him, should I ever stop off at his place. I promised to do so, and we separated warm friends. When I told Tripp what the old superintendent said, he replied, "George, it's the best night's work we ever did."

At another time we were playing a train (or at least we had paid our passage for the purpose of turning a few dollars), but I noticed the conductor was watching us very closely; and I knew that about the time we had our man ready, he would drop down on us and tell the sucker that we were gamblers, and then we would have all our trouble for nothing. So I told my partners to work up the business, and when I saw everything was O. K., I would go to the conductor and entertain him until the job was finished. Well, the boys had a fellow all ready to blow himself, when I saw the knight of the punch bearing down upon them. I jumped up and met him, but he was in a hurry, and did not want to stop; so I caught him, and held on until all was over. He kicked like a government mule, but it was too late; so he said I would not catch him again. I gave him a cigar, and told him I would try a new scheme next time, as a burnt child dreaded the fire. He laughed, and so did I, and that ended it.

HE'S NOT THAT OLD.

About forty years ago I was a pioneer in the great Northwest (or Lake and Central States), and was pretty largely interested in the different branches of business that paid a large profit on the amount of capital invested. I was running keno in St. Paul; playing poker with the Indians, and running the risk of losing my scalp, in Minnesota; building frame shanties out of green lumber for lodgers, at a dollar a head, at Winona; and running a restaurant, saloon, billiard and keno room at Dubuque, Iowa. I was kept pretty busy looking after and attending to my different branches of business, and I divided my time between them.

At one time while I was in Dubuque looking after my restaurant, saloon, billiard and keno rooms, I met a robust, rosy-cheeked young man, who had come out West seeking his fortune in the show business. He came into my place and introduced himself, as he was a total stranger in those parts. I took quite a liking to the good-looking young man, and I told him to make my place his home while he remained in our town. He thanked me for my kindness (for in those days I was kind), and said he would be pleased if I would assist him in advertising his show. They did not have such large, handsome show- bills to draw the crowds (to the bill-boards, I mean) in those days, as they have now; but this young showman knew a thing or two, so he adopted the plan that is largely practiced by our minstrel troupes at this late day. He got some of us ordinary-looking chaps to show him the town--I don't mean like it is done in these days. He wanted us to walk around all the nice streets, so he could see the people, and so the girls could see him. We did it; and the result was, all the girls in that place were at the show the first night. I got all the boys to go over and give the young fellow a lift; and when he left the town, he was much better fixed financially than when he landed. All the girls (and some of the boys) were sorry to see him leave. He thanked me for the favors (more especially for the one of showing him the town), and he has not forgotten them to this day, for we often speak of the old times out West; but he insists that it is not near forty years ago. But I know why he don't want me to give dates. He need not fear, for I will not tell who the good looking, rosy-cheeked boy was that I met in Dubuque about forty years ago; and no one would ever guess, for at that time he was not running a Grand Opera House--and, "by Joe" (Bijou), I don't believe he ever expected to.

CANADA BILL.

Canada Bill was a character one might travel the length and breadth of the land and never find his match, or run across his equal. Imagine a medium-sized, chicken-headed, tow-haired sort of man with mild blue eyes, and a mouth nearly from ear to ear, who walked with a shuffling, half-apologetic sort of a gait, and who, when his countenance was in repose, resembled an idiot. For hours he would sit in his chair, twisting his hair in little ringlets. Then I used to say, "Bill is studying up some new devilment." His clothes were always several sizes too large, and his face was as smooth as a woman's and never had a particle of hair on it. Canada was a slick one. He had a squeaking, boyish voice, and awkward, gawky manners, and a way of asking fool questions and putting on a good natured sort of a grin, that led everybody to believe that he was the rankest kind of a sucker--the greenest sort of a country jake. Woe to the man who picked him up, though. Canada was, under all his hypocritical appearance, a regular card shark, and could turn monte with the best of them. He was my partner for a number of years, and many are the suckers we roped in, and many the huge roll of bills we corralled. He was an arrant coward, though, and would not fight a woman if she said boo. His right name was Jones. When Tom Brown and Holly Chappell traveled with me, the four of us made a quartette that could give most any crowd any sort of monte they wanted. Brown got $240,000 for his share of the profit, and Chappell went North with his portion, and is to-day as poor as myself. Bill never weighed over 130 pounds, and was always complaining of pains in his head. I always found him honest to a fault; and when the poor fellow died, I felt that I had lost one of my truest friends.

THE NATCHEZ AND THE LEE.

When the great steamboat race came off between the Natchez and the Robert E. Lee, the excitement all along the Mississippi River, and at St. Louis, New Orleans, and all the river towns, was at fever heat. Betting ran high, a great deal of money changed hands, and very little else was talked about for a long time. I came to the conclusion that the boats were pretty evenly matched, but thought that the Natchez ought to beat in a straight run. I knew the Lee could make two landings to the Natchez one, the latter boat being somewhat top-heavy and difficult to handle. However, I put my money on her, and believe she would have won had not Captain Canon out-generaled and out-managed Captain Leathers.

Captain Canon took off every extra pound of freight, including anchors, chains, beds, and bedding, even taking the doors and shutters off the hinges; while the hold and decks he saved to be filled with dry pine knots. Besides, he engaged the steamer Paragoad to go up above Baton Rouge, loaded down with the choicest of fuel. The Paragoad was a very fast boat; and when Baton Rouge was reached, the Lee never stopped her engines, only slackened her speed a little, while the Paragoad lay alongside and dumped the fuel on to the Lee. The Natchez had to land and take a coal-boat in tow, and by this management made a difference of over three hours. This gave the Lee a start of perhaps five hours, as when she did land it was for a moment only. The Natchez kept everything on board, and caught all the winds, while they whistled through the Lee.

On the day of the race the excitement was so great in New Orleans that when the Mayflower advertised to take people up about twenty miles to see the fun, it was not long before she was loaded to her gunwales with all the young bloods of the Crescent City. A jollier set of fellows never got together; and as money was plenty, they made the wine fly with a whirl. I hunted up old Bill and Dad Ryan, and made up my mind we would tackle the gentry and given them something to spend their money for. Bill opened up, and the young sprigs of the aristocracy began to pile up the bills, which Bill was not slow to rake in. There was nothing mean about Bill, and he didn't refuse to take gold watches and sparklers; and after the game closed, some of the fellows resembled picked ducks. They wanted to redeem their watches and diamonds, so Bill agreed to meet them at a certain well known saloon the next day, as all he wanted was the stuff. Nearly all of them wished to make me a nice present, and none of them ever met me afterwards without asking me up to smile. Just as Bill was closing up, an old fellow, who knew me well, came up and said:

"Devol, who is that old fool trying to play that game?" My friend had been up on the hurricane roof, and had not noticed the game going on; so I remarked to him:

"Hold on. I have been watching him, and am going to take him in pretty soon." I then gave Bill the wink to keep on, and turning to the old fellow, I observed, "Don't leave here, as I may want you to hold stakes for me."

"All right," was the answer; and then I turned to Bill and said, "Let me see your cards;" so I picked up the one with the old woman on it and put a pencil mark on it, which I showed the old man (who, by-the-by, was a large wholesale grocery merchant, whom I had known for twenty-five years, and he had seen me play monte many a time). I asked the old fellow that was turning the cards, "if he would bet on the game."

"Yes," he replied; "I'll bet you can't find any card you may mention, after I mix 'em up."

Then I said, "Hide the old woman." So he mixed them up again, and I said, "I know it's hard to find, but I'll bet you $1,000 I can pick her up the first time." He laid up the money on the table, and I continued, "This gentleman will hold the stakes." "All right," said Bill, and he put the money in the grocery-man's hand, and I turned the card. Bill said, "All right; fairly won. Give him the money;" and I pocketed the stuff. Then I offered to bet him $2,000, but Bill declined to bet with me any more; so my friend the grocery-man spoke up: "I'll bet you I can turn the card." Bill replied, "I have just lost $1,000, and if I bet any more it will not be less than $2,000." So I handed my friend the money to put up; but Bill wouldn't stand it, and spoke up: "I won't do that. If you don't play your own money, I won't bet;" so I told him to just lay it up and turn the card, and I would hand it to him. He got out his wallet and put up $1,700, and I loaned him $300 to make it up; so he turned the card. The old fellow could not believe himself. He stood still for a few minutes, looked at Bill, then at me, and finally said, "Devol, lend me a five-dollar bill, and I will go home and stay there until I get some sense." He did what he said he would, and I never saw him for a couple of months, when one day, as I was passing his house, he hailed me, and calling me in he counted me out $305 in five-dollar bills, and said, "Here is what I owe you. Now I want to know if you have found any more old fellows who don't know how to play that game of monte." Of course I laughed at the joke, and we were always good friends.

DICKY ROACH AND I.

While playing one night in St. Louis at old Mr. Peritts' game of faro, and Dick Roach was dealing, luck ran dead against me, and at every play I turned up loser, when in came a drunken man who was quarrelsome, and insisted on annoying me. I told him that I was in no condition to have anybody clawing me around. Then he got mad and wanted to fight. I said nothing, and stood it as long as I could, when I got up out of my chair, and hit him a slug in the ear that curled him up on the floor like a possum. Then I cashed my checks and set out for a walk. I knocked around for about half an hour, and got to thinking about how much money I had lost, and resolved to try my luck again. There was no other bank open, so I went back to Peritts' game, and there, sprawled out on the floor, lay the big lubber that I had knocked over, and Roach was kneeling down by him and rubbing him with ice water and a towel, so I resolved to take another walk, when Roach, catching sight of me, said: "Devol, I guess you owe me something for taking care of your patient, and if that's the way you hit, I don't want you to hit me. I've been rubbing this fellow ever since you left."

Dick was fond of fun, and had a man who went by the name of Shell Fairchild, who he thought could throw down or whip anybody, and he was willing to put up his money on him. One night we were all in Loops' saloon, when Fairchild and Dick Roach came in. Thurston and Roach got into an argument about wrestling, and Thurston said, "I have got a man that can put your man on his back for this fifty- dollar bill," pulling out the money. Roach covered it in a minute, and then Thurston asked me if I would wrestle him. "Yes," I said.

We picked out a place, tossed off our coats, and I put him on his back in a minute. That wasn't satisfactory , so I did it again.

"Satisfied," said Roach, as he handed Thurston the money.

Sherman, poor fellow, bucked the fifty dollars right against the bank, and then, of course, Roach got it all back again, and Sherman only regretted that he hadn't stuck Roach for more.

KNOCKED DOWN $300.