“So they do,” replied the oily-tongued sharper; “anything except five of a kind. Of course five jacks are better than four aces. There’s no question about that. And of course the money is mine!”
Saying this, he raked in Ben’s seven hundred dollars, leaving the young fellow without a cent.
Hogan couldn’t exactly get it through his head how he could have lost the money with four aces; but, as explained above, he was too ignorant of the game to detect the swindle.
He went to the captain, hoping to get some explanation, but that functionary declined to listen to his story. He said he must settle his gambling disputes as best he could.
Then he went back to the sharpers, and begged them to let him have twenty-five or thirty dollars, as he had lost every penny; but they refused to give up a dollar.
Ben was dazed and half-maddened by his loss. Finally he told the gamblers that he would find somebody else on the boat to be fleeced, providing they would give him a percentage of the spoils. This they readily agreed to do, and so Ben went up on to the hurricane deck in search of a victim.
There he fell in with rather of a green merchant, who soon revealed to him the fact that he had between fifteen and sixteen hundred dollars about his person. Ben invited him down to play. As they were passing through the gangway, a sudden impulse seized Hogan to possess himself of this stranger’s money at any hazard. The gangway was open at either end, and as they were passing close to the unguarded space, Ben pretended to trip, falling against the stranger and knocking him overboard; but he immediately shouted and jumped into the water, with a view to save the unfortunate fellow.
It may not be wise to enter into these details too fully; but it may be said that the merchant struggled to the surface alive. Furthermore, when Ben was dragged on board the boat, he had not about him the fifteen hundred and odd dollars which had previously belonged to the stranger. It is a wonder that the latter was not swallowed by an alligator. But how the money was allowed to rest in his pocket must remain a mystery.
Hogan continued his trip to New Orleans, but did not engage in any more draw-poker with the gentlemen who were accustomed to hold five jacks. If the money had come to him in a doubtful manner, it went in the same way. He drifted about for a few weeks, and finally brought up in Charleston without a dollar.
Now comes a period in his career which for wild adventure and hairbreadth escapes surpasses any romance. Finding himself in Charleston with no money and nothing to do, he determined to “make a raise” in some manner, whatever it might be. Money was his god, and he was prepared to lay burnt offerings or any other kind of offerings upon the altar. The opportunity came to him in a remarkable way.