The second largest gambling-house in Goldfield was owned by "Larry" Sullivan and Peter Grant, both from Portland, Oregon. Sullivan claimed that he was attracted to Goldfield by the stories which appeared in the Sunday magazine section of a Coast newspaper, the copy for which had been carefully and methodically written in the back room of our Goldfield news bureau. Sullivan and Grant were making money, and plenty of it. I patronized the Sullivan house, of occasion, and Sullivan usually presided over the games when I was there. One evening I cashed in $2,500 of winnings. The money was piled on the table in $20 gold-pieces by the dealer. As I was about to place it in a sack to store away in the safe of the house until the morrow, Sullivan began to josh me like this:
"Say, young feller, why don't you cut me in on some of your mining deals? I'm game!"
"Are you? Well, stack up $2,500 against that money, and I'll see if you are."
He went to the safe and lugged to the table a big canvas sack containing $20 gold-pieces. Stacking the money on the table in piles of $400 each, he matched my stake.
"Well?" said he.
"Put that money in a sack," said I, "and go and get that big coonskin coat of yours, take a night ride by automobile to Tonopah, and in the morning go by stage to Manhattan. When you get there look up the owner of the Jumping Jack mine. I have met him. He is a member of the Ancient Order of Hibernians. An Irishman can buy that property from him much cheaper than anybody else. You go and buy it."
"What will I pay?" asked Larry.
"He wants $85,000, but get it as cheap as you can," I replied.
"What? With this $5,000?"
"Yes," said I. "Pay him the $5,000 down and sign a contract to pay the balance in 60 or 90 days; but fetch him back to Goldfield, and have him bring the deeds."