And with that he would touch up his horses, and go whirling away.
The trouble was that whenever the farmers did call around at his place, Ben was sure to be out. That was one of his fixed rules.
On another occasion, the man whom Ben had “stood up” for his cigars, came to him and wanted some money the worst way. Ben learned that this man was owing a number of his employees, and that the workmen could not get their pay. He entered into an agreement with some of the hands, whereby they might get a part of what was due them. When the cigar manufacturer came in, Ben laid down thirty dollars on the bar, saying:
“There you are, sir!”
But before the dealer could pick up the money, it had been snatched by the workmen, as Ben knew it would be, and the manufacturer never saw a dollar of it again.
By way of comforting the fellow for his loss, Hogan proposed a little game of faro, and bled him out of what money he had. But the chap made himself more than solid by afterward bucking against a square game.
On still another occasion a pork dealer came into Ben’s place, who had heard a good deal about the notorious Hogan, and who was anxious to see him. Ben was present at the time and at once met his rural visitor with the utmost politeness.
“Be you Hogan?” asked the dealer in hogs.
“No, sir,” answered Ben, promptly. “Mr. Hogan is not in just at present; but I am a pupil of his.”
“Waal, neow!” said the countryman. “I thought I’d jest drop in here to see what was going on, you know. I used to box a little myself.”