Queer Luck: Poker Stories from the New York Sun

by David A. Curtis

“Now, on the lakes, and on such salt-water craft as I have traveled on, the Captain of the boat is very much in evidence. He has all to say about everything, and seems to be a sort of court of appeals for the trial and final disposition of all cases, trivial or important. He seems to have a personal supervision over every detail of his business, and to have very little real leisure. It may be, of course, that the Captain of a Mississippi boat has similar duties and responsibilities, but it doesn’t seem so to the average passenger.

“In the first place, he seems to have nothing to say about the navigation of his boat. The pilot attends to that, apparently, all the time. Then the Captain has little to say to the crew. The mate bosses the deckhands and the roustabouts, and the engineer has control of his own department. I suppose the Captain gives them both orders, though I never saw or heard him do it. I have heard him order the waiters about in the dining-room, but it seems ridiculous to class that among his duties. Altogether, to one who doesn’t understand the matter, the Captain’s office seems suited to comic opera rather than to navigation, and, as I intimated, I enjoy comic opera too much to want to understand this.

“There is one thing about the position, however, which is no joke. The Captain has arbitrary police power over everybody on board his boat, unless, indeed, the pilot is exempt. I don’t know about that. So well is this fact understood that I never saw this authority disputed but once, and on that occasion it was not well for the man who did the disputing.

“Captain Foss of the river packet Lone Star, plying between St. Louis and New Orleans some twenty years ago, was one of the finest men I ever chanced to know on the river. That he was a Southerner no one could doubt who saw him and heard him talk, but I never knew what State he came from. He was a man of middle stature and remarkable physical development, strong as a horse and active as a cat. I think he had been in the army, for he had a military bearing, but his title of Captain came, of course, from his position. He was somewhat of a dandy, and dressed in what was old style even then, but the exquisite neatness and fine material of his clothing made him conspicuous even among the wealthy and well-dressed passengers who patronized his boat from choice whenever they traveled the river.

“Suave, polished, and extremely quiet in his manners on ordinary occasion, he could blaze out in the most fiery bursts of temper when he had provocation. I never saw him in a temper but twice, and curiously enough the trouble grew out of a game of poker each time.

“Poker was always played in the main saloon of the boat at night, as a matter of course, and I have seen some stiff games played on the Lone Star, for I made several trips on her. I didn’t hesitate to play there myself, even with strangers, for I knew the reputation of the boat and of the Captain, who played himself occasionally, though not very often. He was called one of the best players on the river, and was known to be thoroughly upright and believed to be utterly devoid of fear. He knew all the gamblers who traveled the river, and would not allow any crooked play in his jurisdiction. It was reported that they all knew this and had a wholesome respect for his authority, knowing that he made it a rule to set a man ashore in the wilderness if he was detected in any underhand work. He had done this several times, and it was generally believed that there wasn’t a gambler in the country who would play any tricks on Captain Foss’s boat.

“One night, an hour or two after we had left Memphis on the way down the river, the Captain sauntered into the saloon looking as if he hadn’t a care or a responsibility of any kind, and, seeing a game of cards going on, he walked up to the table and joined the lookers-on, of whom I was one. It was a fairly stiff game, and there was enough money changing hands to make it rather exciting, even for those who weren’t playing. As for the four men who were playing, they seemed almost dead to the outside world. Whether they were playing beyond their means, or whether it was simply the excitement of the game that held them spellbound, I didn’t know, but I had watched them for an hour and hadn’t heard one of them utter a word beyond what the game called for. Their faces all showed intense emotion, and one man’s hand shook so that he had hard work to deal. It may not have been the game that caused it, but I thought it was.

“After Captain Foss had been standing by for a few minutes, one of the four, a pale, intellectual-looking man, threw down a losing hand with some show of temper, and exclaimed with an oath, ‘not loud, but deep’: ‘I never did have any luck in a four-handed game.’ And looking around the little group—there were a dozen or more of us—he spied the Captain.

“‘Captain,’ he said, ‘won’t you take a hand?’

“‘Well,’ said Captain Foss, ‘I don’t mind playing a little while if none of the other gentlemen object. I didn’t know you were superstitious, though, Dr. Baisley.’