Queer Luck: Poker Stories from the New York Sun

by David A. Curtis

“It came Overland Jack’s deal, and his confederate looked confidently at his cards, expecting to find winners, but, instead, he found nothing at all. Overland Jack had seen what he had not, that the landlord of the hotel, who was in the room but not in the game, was watching the actor’s play, as if he had an inkling of the truth. Instantly changing his plan, he dealt himself the hand he had stacked for the actor, which was four aces, while he gave the plainsman his four kings as he had intended.

“There was the raise before the draw and after it, and the pile on the table grew rapidly, while the other players dropped out, and the two hands were being played for all they were worth. Overland Jack’s nerve was perfectly good, and he was playing for the other man’s pile, when he heard a click under the table, just as the plainsman had raised him five hundred dollars. Without an instant’s hesitation, and without the slightest change of expression, he exclaimed, ‘That’s good,’ and threw his four aces into the discard pile. Neither did he show any emotion of any kind as he saw the plainsman, with a look of considerable surprise, rake in the pile. He had cold feet soon after, however, as did the actor also, and they left the room and went straight to the bar.

“While they were chewing their whisky the landlord and the plainsman came in together, and Overland Jack instantly called to them both to come over and have a drink. They came, and the plainsman put out his hand, laughing.

“‘You are a good one,’ he said. ‘What did you throw down four aces for?’

“‘My friend,’ said Overland Jack, ‘when you have played cards as much as I have you will know that there are times when four aces are not worth four cents. And when you have been through what I have you will know that it is damned foolish to pull the second gun. When you hear a click, and your own gun is not out, it is time to quit the game.’

“‘Well, you are a good one,’ said the plainsman again, and they all drank.

“At that time the old Morton House was the center of a good deal of the excitement of various kinds that was going on in this city, and it was natural enough that Overland Jack should put up there when he arrived in New York. He did so, and looked around quietly enough for a few days without making himself known. It was not hard for him to strike up a hotel acquaintance with Jim Morton, who was then running the house alone, after Ryan’s death, and it was not long before Overland Jack managed to be in the room as a spectator when there was a tolerably stiff game of poker going on. He hadn’t been invited to play, and he was not making proposals. He was simply awaiting his chance, and it came suddenly.

“Morton was in the game. So was Shed Shook, and so were the late General Owens, Ed Gilmore, and a Senator from Albany who spent considerable time in the city. They were betting pretty well and playing table stakes. Morton was called away by a summons from the office, and, not caring to quit the game, he looked around for somebody to take his hand while he should go downstairs for a few minutes. It happened that he saw Overland Jack first among the lookers-on, and he asked him if he would keep the seat warm for him.

“Naturally Overland Jack didn’t refuse, but as he sat down he said: ‘If you want me to play for you, you’d better leave me some more money, for I shall play your cards for all they are worth.’ “Morton had two or three hundred on the table at the time, but he didn’t hesitate an instant. Putting his hand in his pocket, he pulled out a roll and tossed it down in front of Overland Jack, who did not even count it, but nodded and shoved the money all together and waited for his cards. He never made any charge afterward that anybody was trying to play tricks in that game, but he did say that he was satisfied in his own mind that a certain man in that party was likely to hold four of a kind soon after he began playing, and as it happened that man did hold four deuces the next time it came Overland Jack’s deal. It was a jack-pot, and the deuce man opened it for fifty dollars. The others came in, and Overland Jack raised it fifty. The deuce man raised it fifty more, and all stayed.

“On the draw the deuce man called for one, the next man stood pat on a flush, the next drew two cards and didn’t fill, the next drew to two pairs and didn’t better, and the dealer took three. The opener proceeded to make merry at his expense. ‘You raised it on a pair, eh!’ he exclaimed. ‘Well, you have a nerve, to be sure. Do they play that kind of poker where you came from? If they do you have come to a good place to learn the game. Why, I have you beaten without a struggle.’ And he shoved one hundred dollars into the pot.