Claim Number One

by George W. Ogden

The young fellow did not bear himself with the air of a capper, but rather with that of one who had licked a little poison and was drunk on the taste. He had won two small bets, and he was out for more.

There were no chips, no counters except cash. Of 52 that the young man appeared to have plenty. He held a cheerful little wad of it in his hand, so that no time might be lost in taking advantage of the great opportunity to beat a man at his own game.

The display of so much money on both sides held the crowd in silent charm. The young man was the only player, although the one-eyed man urged others to come on and share the fortunes of his sweating patron, whose face was afire with the excitement of easy money, and whose reason had evaporated under the heat.

“At every roll of the dice my young friend adds to his pile,” said the gambler. “He’s got a head, gents, and he knows how to use it. Look at ’im, gents, gittin’ richer at every roll of the dice! You might as well have a share in all this here money and wealth, and you would be sharin’ it if you had the nerve of my young friend.”

The one-eyed man turned the dice out and lost again. There was a little movement of the crowd, a little audible intaking of breath, a little crowding forward, like that of cattle massed in a pen.

The suckers never did seem to get it through their heads, thought the doctor as he beheld their dumb excitement with growing contempt, that the one-eyed man switched the dice on them just as often as he pleased between the table and the box, by a trick which was his one accomplishment and sole capital. Without that deftness of hand the one-eyed man might have 53 remained a bartender, and a very sloppy and indifferent one at that; but with it he was the king-pin of the gamblers’ trust in Comanche, and his graft was the best in the town.

“There it goes, gents!” he said, shaking his long, hound-shaped head with doleful expression of face. “The tide of luck’s turned ag’in’ me. You can see that as plain as water in a pan, but they ain’t one of you got the nerve to step up and help my young friend trim me.

“You fellers know what you make me think of? Well, you make me think of a lot of little boys with ten cents to spend on Fourth of July. You stand around with your fingers in your mouth, afraid you’ll see somethin’ you like better if you let loose of your little old dime, and you hang on to it till the fun’s all over and the ice-cream’s all gone.

“But my young friend here–Now, now!” he remonstrated as the highly excited young man took up his winnings, added them to the money which he held in reserve in his left hand, and placed the whole amount upon the table. “Now you’re a comin’ it purty strong! Go easy, young feller, and give a old man with only one eye and a game leg a chance. But you won’t do it; I can see that in the cast of your eye; you’re bound to clean me out at one smack; that’s what you’re bound to do.”

The one-eyed man shook the dicebox very carefully, as if mixing some rare prescription. Then he stopped 54 shaking and held his hand over the mouth of the box, as if he expected the cubes might jump up and join in his ruination while his head was turned.