After it, when they had made some speeches to bid us all welcome, we went out to see the sights—principally a private gambling saloon where they were playing extremely high, about seven men intent on poker, some with green shades over their eyes of talc, which gave the strangest livid glow on their faces, and made them look like dead men. After each round a felt-slippered bar-tender would slip in and give them all drinks in small glasses—rum and milk and different things—and I am sure one of the desperadoes was playing, his villainous face was in such contrast to the others.
Their revolvers were all up on a shelf, because, as the proprietor told us, "They so often got to shootin' one another when they played as high as that," he found it "more conducive to a peaceable evenin' if their guns were handed out before they began!" How such things must add to the excitement of a game, Mamma!
The lowest stake was one thousand dollars and some had twenty-five thousand dollars in front of them. There was a queer intent ominous hush, and we watched in silence for a while, and then went to a most quaint sort of theatrical entertainment—songs and dances going on, the most primitive stage at one end, while a bar and drinks were at the other. We only stayed about five minutes, because it did not seem quite the place for girls, although everyone treated us with the most scrupulous respect, instantly hushing their jokes as we approached, and making way for us like courtiers for foreign royalties in a drawing-room. And when we got out in the street there appeared to be some excitement in the air. Hundreds of men were loitering about or talking in groups, and the Senator, much to our disappointment, made us go back to the hotel. It was only about half past nine o'clock, and we thought to go to bed an extremely dull proceeding. But we did not like to question or argue, and obediently went upstairs. And when the Senator and Nelson saw us safely in our rooms, with the secretary and Mr. Vinerhorn left to be a sort of guard to us, they all went out again to show Tom more sights.
Everything was perfectly quiet; the hotel is against the mountain and rather away from the main and only regular street.
Then, left to ourselves we felt just like naughty children, obliged to get into some mischief, and when Mercédès suggested we should change all the numbers on the doors, it seemed a nice outlet for us! Octavia had gone to her room, or, she says, she would not have let us, and Lola and her Randolph had retired, too, while the secretary had gone down to the bar, so there was no one to prevent us. It was, of course, very naughty of us, Mamma, and I dare say we deserved all that followed, but it was a funny idea, wasn't it? The only ones we did not change were our own two; everyone else's in the hotel, and there were about thirty-six rooms altogether, we mixed all up and then we scampered in to bed!
There were only little oil lamps here, the electric lights not having been fixed yet, and when I piled all the bed clothes on the floor and rolled myself up in the quilt, I was off to sleep in a minute.
It did not seem very long afterwards when drunken footsteps came up the passage and woke me up, and then a fumbling at the Senator's door and frightful swearing because the key would not fit. The creature, whoever it was, was perfectly furious, and one could hear him muttering "29, yes it's 29," and then fearful oaths, and at last, with a shove, he wrenched down the crazy door and got into the room and I suppose was too sleepy or drunk to notice it was not his own, and retired to the Senator's bed! Because I could hear him snoring next me through the cracked partition.
A little while after, in the still of night air, there was a distant murmur of voices, and then some shots rang out. It was a grim, sinister sound, and in about ten minutes running feet were heard, and two or three men came up the passage. They banged at Lola's door; hers had been 24 and was now 201. They cursed and swore and demanded to come in, and at last a voice said, "I'm Curly Grainger," and then some terrible oaths. "Open this minute, Jim; we've done for two of 'em, but they've got Bill, and you must come and bail him out."
No answer, of course, as Lola was crouching terrified in bed, Randolph just as frightened, I suppose, while even through the Vicomte's room I could hear Columbia and Mercédès giggle, and I, too, for a minute felt inclined to laugh, it seemed too dramatic to be real. But the voices got menacing and then the excitement began! With the most dreadful language they just kicked down the door, intending to pull "Jim" out of bed, I suppose, and when they saw it was one of the strangers' rooms, I suppose the idea came to them they might do a little robbery as well.
Suddenly there was a rush of feet and more men came up the stairs. I got out of bed, wondering what would be best to do, when I heard Lola shriek and a shot in the passage. So I felt I must go to her help and opened the door, and such a scene, Mamma! There were seven of the most awful looking men you ever saw, the ones who, I told you, had come into the dance hall at Osages. Among them Lola and Randolph in night clothes, were already lined up against the wall, with their hands above their heads. While one brute stood at the end of the passage pointing his gun at them, one of the others was rifling their room, others had kicked down the girls' door and one was at the end by Octavia's. None of the other people, miners of sorts, except one man's wife, had come in yet, as it was not more than half past ten o'clock! She was soon pulled out, too, and one brute seized me and roughly threw my hands up while he held a gun to my head. I did feel very frightened, Mamma, but it was all so terribly exciting, it was quite worth while. I wish I had had a revolver. I would have used it in a minute. As it was I just watched from under the brute's arm. Every door was broken down then, and as noiselessly as they could they ransacked each room. If we had attempted to scream they would have shot us dead. The girls were speechless with terror, only Octavia looked a contemptuous tragedy queen in her white nighty, and the miner's wife had a face of petrified rage; she wasn't a bit frightened, either. Then up the stairs ran the secretary and the proprietor's wife, a kind amusing old woman. She had evidently seen this sort of hold up before (it is called a "hold up," Mamma), for she called out: "Don't be afraid, ladies, dears, they won't hurt you if you don't yell"; and then she bolted down the stairs again like a rabbit to get help, while my brute turned his attention from me for a minute to fire after her. She had got past the turn of the stairs, but he caught the secretary in the ankle, and he fell with a groan on the floor.