Forty Years a Gambler on the Mississippi

by George H. Devol

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.