Part 31

"I'm suffering with the toothache, and will go to my room."

In a short time I returned and took a seat in the hall near the stove, as it was quite chilly. Mr. Picket and a number of other gentlemen were seated around, and we soon got to telling stories. My tooth ached so badly that I could not enjoy the stories, and was constantly complaining of the pain. A great many remedies were suggested, but they could not be had on the boat. Finally the barkeeper recommended hot salt held on the side of the face. I asked him if he had any. He said no, but I could get it in the pantry. I got up and went for the salt. I returned in a short time with a package of salt about the size of a goose egg, which was twisted up in a piece of paper. I put it on the stove, and when it got hot I held it to my face until it cooled off, then I put it back on the stove.

While the salt was getting hot a second time, I went to my room to get something. The barkeeper said to the crowd:

"Let's have some fun with Devol."

So saying, he opened the package, threw out the salt, and filled up the paper with ashes. I came back, picked up my salt, and held it to my face. Picket asked me if it was doing my tooth any good. I told him I thought it was. Then they all laughed at the idea of hot salt being good for the toothache, and Picket said:

"Devol, do you know that when salt gets hot it will turn into ashes?"

"No, I don't. What do you take me for? You must have been drinking," I replied.

They all laughed again, and Picket spoke up, saying:

"I don't believe you have any salt in that paper."

I set the package on the stove again, and replied:

"You must take me for a d----d fool, sure enough; but you don't look like you had any more sense than the law allows. I got that salt out of the salt-bag, and I tasted it before I wrapped it up, and I know it is salt, and that settles it."

"But, Devol, salt does turn to ashes when it is hot; and I will bet you the drinks for the crowd that there is no salt in that paper on the stove."

Then they had another big laugh at my expense, and I got mad. I jumped up and said:

"I will bet you $500 that there is nothing in that paper but salt."

Picket jumped up also, saying:

"I will just go you once, anyway."

I put up my $500 with the barkeeper; but Picket did not have but $350, and he wanted to bet that. I told him he could back out, but I would not bet less than what I had up. Then he put up his watch and chain for the other $150. One of the men that had been enjoying the fun, said:

"I will bet you $100 that Mr. Picket wins the money."

I replied, "I will not bet less than $500."

Then Picket said, "He wants to bluff you out; but he can't bluff me worth a cent."

So the man put up his $500, and I covered it. Everybody was excited, and some of my friends who had seen the trick that was being played on me told me not to bet; but I was mad, and would not listen to them.

When all was ready, the package was taken off the stove and handed to the barkeeper. He untwisted the paper and spread it out on the counter, and in it was as nice fine white--salt as you ever saw in your life.

The barkeeper tasted some of it, just as I did when I put up the two papers just alike, and then handed me over the money and Mr. Picket's watch and chain.

Mr. "Red River" took a large pinch of the bait, and it (or the loss of his money and watch) came near strangling him. He did not entirely recover from the effect while he remained on the boat; for every time he was well enough to come out of his room, some one would say "Salt," and that would make him sick again.

I have caught a great many suckers in my time, but Mr. Picket was the first one I ever salted down.

THE ARKANSAS KILLERS.

For many years I almost lived on board the packets. I felt more at home on any of the Mississippi steamboats than I did on land in any city or town in the United States. I had friends wherever I went, and I knew every officer and many of the crew on nearly every boat that ran the river. While on water, I did not fear any man or set of men; but there were localities on land along the Mississippi River that no man could hold his own with the rough element that lived around them. So I always gave such places a wide berth.

Helena and Napoleon, Ark., were two towns where it was not safe for any man to do the bluff act, for they would kill him just to see him kick. I won some money from one of Helena's killers at one time on board a steamer, and he set up a big kick; but as he was alone, he was like all men of his class--a coward. I well knew that if he caught me on his ground I would get the worst of it, so I resolved never to give him a chance; but one evening I was compelled to get off at Helena, as things had gotten a little too warm for me on board the boat, and I thought I would run the risk of the killers rather than give up the money I had won at that time. I went up to the hotel to get my supper and wait for another boat, and one of the first men I met was the fellow I had beaten out of his money. I knew there would be trouble, so I put Betsy Jane in a handy place, resolving to use her for what she was worth if the killers got after me. I did not leave the hotel until the boat arrived; and just about the time I was starting out, the clerk told me that some of the gamblers had beaten one of the worst men in the country on a boat, and he was down at the landing with a crowd of his roughs, waiting to do him up.