"Ah! and nearly got a six-shooter rammed down his throat for it, too!"
"Well, Tom came down just in the middle of that business, and told us all that they were going to have a game with—what was his name, anyhow?"
"Cuff."
"Old Cuff, yes."
"What was it?" asked some of us.
"Well, Mills and Cuff had a saloon and a faro-bank up town, in Deming," said the Colonel. "Mills was a smart fellow, and a square man, too; but old Cuff was a sort of drivelling old jackass, only fit to sit under the stoop in front of the house, and give the time of day to the passers by. However, he wanted to do things—he would deal at faro, and he would meddle in this, that, and the other, until Mills was very often so mad that he could have taken him by the heels and dusted the ornaments with him. One day he got half-a-dozen tin-horn gamblers together, and between them they put up a cold deck[36] in a faro-box. Then, when there was nothing particular going on, Mills gave up his place as dealer to Cuff, and rung in the new box on him. Well, the tin-horns were there in a body, with a few stacks of chips,[37] playing light—waiting for the deal, you see—and as soon as Cuff took his place they began doubling up, and doubling up, and just sousing it to him red-hot. Before half the deal was over, the whole bank of checks was gone, and Cuff was giving markers for hundreds as hard as he could go it. At the end of the deal he was about nine thousand dollars out. And, by gosh! you never saw a man in such a state in your life! The perspiration rolled off him in streams; he began laughing and crying like an idiot. I thought he was going to choke once."
"How did it all end?"
"Oh, the boys kept him on the 'anxious seat' for two or three days, and that cured him. He never wanted to deal any more; he would hardly believe that they had been joshing him, when they did tell him the truth."
"Talking about 'tin-horns,' Frank Therman used to tell a good yarn," observed the Major presently. "Dick Miller came to him one afternoon, and said, 'Look here, Frank! I've got a dead sure thing on—can't lose! I want you to lend me fifty dollars to work it with.' Frank gave him the money—he didn't care anyhow, he'd stake anybody. Pretty soon, in came Jim Baker. 'Say, old pard! do you want to stake me with fifty dollars?—it's a real good investment—can't help winning.' 'What's on?' asked Frank. 'Oh, some suckers want to play poker.' He got his fifty dollars, and quit. Just as soon as he had gone, in came Dutch Henry. 'I vas joost looking for you, Fr-r-ank,' says he. 'I hef got something so goot vat a man vants.' 'The —— you have! Have you caught a sucker too?' 'Sucker! Ven you poot 'im in zer son, he ron vays—melt, I min!' 'You don't want that,' said Frank. 'No—no, zir!—you pet! Look here, Frenk, olt man! I got no tollars—von't you lent me a feefty-tollar pill?' Well, he got his fifty-dollar 'pill,' and he hadn't been gone long before Smiling Moses appeared. 'Frank, old pard! I just want fifty dollars for an hour or two—give it to you again to-night. I've got a "soft snap" on—can't miss it.' 'You don't say!' said Frank. 'Well, I'll be good — —, if those quail showers your tribe used to catch in the wilderness were in it with our sucker storms! Here's your bill! go right along and make an independent fortune while you can.' Well, Smiling Moses skinned out, and the more Frank got to thinking of it, the more he couldn't make out what in —— had come to town to make the boys so busy. So as there was very little faro play going on, he left Moore to deal, and strolled out to look round a bit. He went into the 'Corral'—there were none of his men there. He looked into the 'Ranch' and the 'Mine'—devil a sign of them. He went pretty well all round town, and, finally, it occurred to him to drop into a little 'dive' on Jim Street. He walked through the bar and pushed the card-room door open. And there they were, sir, playing poker together—all four of them! Each tin-horn with the most profound contempt for the others' skill. I think that's a delightful bit of satire on humanity."
"Moore tells a tale of the old Mississippi steamer days that isn't bad," said W. "A tender-foot got in amongst the gamblers on board one of the boats once, and what with 'strippers,' and 'stocking,' and 'cold decks,' and 'bugs,' and 'reflectors,' and 'codes,' and so forth, he hadn't the ghost of a show. They played him to h—l and gone in a very short time. It was a regular case of 'Shuf', dad, shuf'! it's all you'll get.' They soon cleaned him out. Well, walking round the deck afterwards, thinking it over quietly, he found a ten-dollar bill left in one of his pockets, which he had forgotten, and rushed back at once to the saloon with it. 'Boys,' he shouted, 'I want to bet this ten-dollar bill that I can whistle louder than the engine.' 'Oh, quit!' they said; 'if you've got ten dollars left, freeze on to it. Don't throw it away in any such fooling.' 'That'll be all right,' he said, 'I know what I'm about; I'll bet, anyhow.' So finally one of them took him up, and they went outside to see the fun. The chap, he got up on one of the paddle-boxes, and asked the captain to let off the whistle. Well, he just turned her loose, and there was a shriek that you might have heard in China. Of course the 'tender-foot' wasn't in it. However, he didn't seem disappointed. He came down, and paid his bill cheerfully enough. 'You can laugh, boys,' he said quietly, 'but I'll be durned if that ain't the squarest deal I've had on board yet.'"