Part 27

He thanked me very kindly, and said, "George, if you ever want a favor that is in my power to grant, do not hesitate to ask it of me, for I will be happy to grant it."

The above is one of the many similar circumstances that I have experienced during my forty years as a gambler. I always loved to play a social game with my friends, for a small limit, and I never took any advantage, unless it was for a joke, or to run a friend out, and then I would return all I had won.

BILL'S PRESENT.

My old friend and partner, Canada Bill, presented me with a very fine double-barreled shotgun, which I would often take with me when we were out on our trips. We were on the L. & N. Railroad one morning, and I had the gun with me. We had left our baggage in the ladies' car, and were over in the smoker, when we saw a sucker. We went to work on him in the usual way, and it was not long until Bill had $400 of his money. I expected he would kick, from the way he was squirming around; so I gave Bill the office to get off, and I went back in the ladies' car where we had left our baggage. Old Bill was sometimes slow in getting off after he had won the money, and on this occasion he was again behind time.

I had not been seated but a moment, when a brakeman came running in and told me my partner was in trouble. I jumped up, grabbed my shotgun, and started for the smoking-car; and I did not get there any too soon, for the four-hundred-dollar sucker had Bill crouching in a seat, and was standing over him with a big gun covering him. He had given Bill but two minutes to give up the money, and Bill had out his roll counting her out. I rushed up, struck the big fellow with the new gun on the side of the head and knocked him senseless. His big gun dropped on the floor. I picked it up and stuck it in my pocket. Bill lit out as soon as he could get out of his seat, and left me to look after the big fellow on the floor. With the assistance of some of the passengers I got him up, and found he was pretty badly hurt. I told him I was sorry I had hit him, but I thought he was going to kill the old fellow.

He said, "I was only trying to scare him so he would give me back my money, as it was all I had. I could not have shot him if I had wanted to, as the pistol was not loaded."

I pulled out the old thing, and sure enough there was not a load in it. I asked the fellow what business he was engaged in, and he told me he was a ship-carpenter. As that was my father's business, I felt very sorry for him, and I gave him $100 and left the train at the next station. I learned from the brakeman that Bill had dropped off a few miles back, and I knew he would show up soon; so I left the baggage at the depot, took my gun, and made for the woods. Robbins were plentiful, and in a short time I had eight nice birds for our breakfast. I went back to the station, where I found old Bill waiting for me. He was glad to see me and the birds, so he said, "George, I'm glad I bought that gun for you, for it saved my life to-day; besides, we will have birds for breakfast."

I replied, "Yes, Bill, that was the worst fellow you ever met. He would have killed you, sure, with that big gun."

GOOD LUCK.

Canada Bill and I went over from Canton, Miss., to Vicksburg at one time, to catch a boat for New Orleans. We met all the boys, and had a good time while waiting for a boat. The Meader boys (Jesse and Aud) had fitted up very fine faro rooms but a short time before our visit, and they were very glad to see us. Jesse wanted to buy all the wine in Vicksburg for me, for he knew I was a good producer. After he had expended about $50 for wine, he invited me to go down and see their rooms. He did not ask me to play. He said, "Just come down, George, and see our new place." I went down and took a survey of the house, and then I was introduced to the faro-table, where "Aud" was doing the honors. They knew well I could not see a bank in full blast without changing in. I told "Aud" to give me $100 worth of checks and I would try my luck in the new house. I got the checks, and they gave me a front seat so that I could bet all over the lay-out if I so desired. On the first deal I won out about $400. "Aud" shuffled up again with a great deal of care, and I started in again. I played three deals, and then looked up at Aud, saying, "This is too much of a see-saw, and I guess I will quit, for I don't want to miss that boat." I cashed in my checks, and I had won just $1,900. Some of the boys laughed, but Jesse and Aud looked as sober as Mose Wilson used to look when he was on the police bench saying "Thirty, fifty." The Meader boys were game to the backbone, and although they could not laugh with the other boys when I made my first play in their new house, they did ask me to have some wine, and gave me a very pressing invitation to come and see them again; for well they knew my luck would change, and then they could laugh as heartily as any of the boys. They were right, for if I had to-day the money I have lost in Vicksburg alone, I could go into the furniture business and carry as large a stock, on a cash basis, as any house in this country. Bill and I caught the boat for New Orleans, and I was $1,900 ahead. We made good money going down, but it was nearly all deposited in the faro bank before we left the city.

GOVERNOR PINCHBACK.

Great oaks from little acorns grow; and you can never tell the eminent position to which the little bare-footed, ragged boy may climb if he has good luck. There is Governor Pinchback, of Louisiana. He was my boy. I raised him, and trained him. I took him out of a steamboat barber shop. I instructed him in the mysteries of card- playing, and he was an apt pupil. Never shall I forget the night we left New Orleans on the steamer Doubloon. There was a strong team of us--Tom Brown, Holly Chappell, and the boy Pinch. We sent Pinch and staked him to open a game of chuck-a-luck with the niggers on deck, while we opened up monte in the cabin. The run of luck that evening was something grand to behold. I do not think there was a solitary man on the boat that did not drop around in the course of the evening and lose his bundle. When about thirty miles from New Orleans a heavy fog overtook us, and it was our purpose to get off and walk about six miles to Kennersville, where we could take the cars to the city.

Pinchback got our valises together, and a start was made. A drizzling rain was falling, and the darkness was so great that one could not see his hand before his face. Each of us grabbed a valise except Pinch, who carried along the faro tools. The walking was so slippery that we were in the mud about every ten steps, and poor Pinch he groaned under the load that he carried. At last he broke out:

"Tell you what it is, Master Devol, I'll be dumbed if this aint rough on Pinch. Ise going to do better than this toting along old faro tools."

"What's that, Pinch? What you going to do?"

"Ise going to get into that good old Legislature; and I'll make Rome howl if I get there."

Of course I thought at the time that this was all bravado and brag; but the boy was in earnest, and sure enough he got into the Legislature, became Lieutenant-Governor, and by the death of the Governor he slipped into the gubernatorial chair, and at last crawled into the United States Senate.

He did me a good turn when he got up in the world, and true and high honor did not dim the kindly feeling he had for me. I had been playing on the Jackson Railroad, and my luck had been good; but I was satisfied, from certain ominous signs, that a big kick was brewing. To avoid trouble I got off the train a few miles before reaching the city, and had been in town a day or two when the Chief of Police sent for me.

Of course I responded, when he told me, "Devol, you have beat one of the Police Commissioners out of $800, and he says you shan't live in the city."

"I have lived in the city too many years to be run out by any one man."

Thinking it best to have this matter settled, I went to my old friend Bush, and we took a hack and drove to the executive mansion. Pinchback, my old boy, was Governor then; and though it was late at night, he insisted on calling us in, woke up all the servants, and set out a royal lunch, with all sorts of liquors, and we had a high old time. "Go to bed, George," he said, "and don't give yourself any uneasiness. I'll settle that fellow in the morning."

That was the end of the $800 Police Commissioner.

A GOOD STAKEHOLDER.

Sherman Thurston, my old friend, is dead. He has passed in his checks, shuffled his last cards, dealt his final lay-out, and been gathered to the gods. He was an honorable, great-hearted man, and I can recall the time when no living man could do him up in a rough- and-tumble fight. Cow-boy Tripp was once doing the playing for me on the Missouri Pacific Railroad; and as I saw Sherman, I said to him:

"See that conductor? I've got a little game going on here, and a first-class sucker in tow. Now the conductor is watching us very closely, and as soon as he sees him put up his money, he will walk up and stop the game. What I want you to do is to go and sit alongside of him, and entertain him until the lawful proceedings are over."

Tripp opened up the game, and the sucker put up his stuff; and sure enough the conductor made a rush to stop the game. But Sherman grabbed him by the waist and held him as you would a baby, and kept on talking all the time, telling him not to have any fuss, that he didn't want to see any trouble, etc.

Sherman Thurston was the best stakeholder in America. He was death to coat-tail pullers. He had a way of acting as if he was in a terrible passion, and coming down on their feet with a stamp that made them lie quiet.

Sherman was a man of hard sense and native resources that rendered him ready for any emergency. Once when we had won some money from a man, he began to raise a fuss and carry on like one bereft of reason. Sherman humored him. He locked him up in the car, and told everybody that he was a lunatic that he was removing to the asylum--to keep away from him, as he was dangerous and entirely irresponsible. Then when the fellow got too noisy, Sherman went and said, "See here, old fellow, you had better keep still, for gambling is a penitentiary offense in this State, and you are just as much implicated as the man who won your money."