The cards were shuffled. The cow-boy counted out his money. The black-whiskered man wanted to chip in enough to make it even $10,000, but the cow-boy wouldn't have it. My friend made a snatch at what he supposed was the boy card, and—lost.
I felt very sorry for him.
The fellow with the black whiskers was Holly Chappell, the cow-boy was Tom Brown. Both were my partners. The cow-boy invited us all to the bar. My friend and I retired to our state-rooms for the night.
NO MONEY IN LAW.
A man by the name of Levy (of course he was a Jew) and myself were once traveling on the Jackson Railroad, amusing ourselves playing in the smoking car, when along came a horseman from New Orleans, and dropped in, thinking he could pick up the right card. I was doing the playing, and I asked the horseman if he thought he could pick out the card with the baby on. He said that was just what he could do for $300.
"Put her up," I said, and in a twinkling I covered his $300. He turned the card, and lost. Then he studied for a moment and remarked: "I am going to try that once more." So he planked down his watch, which was a fine Howard movement, worth about $200. He lost, got mad, and kicked by telegraphing ahead to arrest a couple of gamblers on the train who had been robbing a man. We were then a few miles below the Sixty-two Mile Siding, and I knew there were no officers there; so we got off at the Siding, and on the down train we spied an officer who was coming from Winona after us. Then we took to the hills, and kept a sharp lookout, where we could see and not be seen. The officer asked where we had gone, and the railroad people told them down the road. They returned to Winona, and he offered a reward of fifty dollars for the watch, and $100 for the return of the watch and money.
Bad news travels fast, and I soon heard of this, and I decided not to go so high up on the road. At last, however, I went to the town, though before I reached the depot I handed my money to a gentleman who resided there, who was a good friend of mine; and sure enough, as I expected, the constable served his warrant on me immediately. My friend at once stepped up and said that we would not go to jail, and forthwith furnished bail. We gave the officer the laugh, who only got mad and telegraphed to New Orleans that he had the party who had won the watch and money belonging to the horseman. On the first train, up he came. When the case was called for trial, I asked the Judge for a continuance on account of the absence of a material witness. He granted me one of three days. The horseman then offered to compromise if we would return the watch and money. Failing in this he fell to abusing the Judge for granting us a continuance. This reached the ears of the Judge, who was anything but pleased, and when I had an opportunity I told the Judge that if he wanted I would stand trial for gambling, and be fined; although I was aware that he had no jurisdiction in gambling cases, but I presumed that he and the constable wanted to make a piece for themselves.
The trial came off, and the Judge fined us thirty dollars apiece for gambling. My friend paid the fines, and then I turned to the Judge and demanded a warrant for the horseman, for gambling in the State. He too was fined thirty dollars; and when he returned to New Orleans, and told his story, the boys all gave him the laugh, and told him he had better have staid at home, for we all told you that you could never get a cent back from Devol.
When I reached New Orleans I hunted the horseman up, and he redeemed his watch, giving me $200. This transaction made a man of him, for afterwards I met him and he wanted to help me skin suckers, and did make money. Many business men whom I have at first won money from came to me afterwards and stood in with the game, so that I was given an opportunity to get into games that I never could have done without their influence.