While gambling of all sorts and conditions is to be strongly deprecated it is nevertheless a fact that a large percentage of the strangers who flock to this great city of the West find themselves possessed at times with a desire to view the feverish scenes of which they have heard so much. Gambling as a confirmed vice is a terrible affliction. It frequently happens, however, that men who never dream of gambling at home, finding themselves with a little superfluous time on their hands in a strange city, actually yearn for a little of the excitement that is to be obtained by staking a small sum at a game of chance or skill. It’s not the amount of money invested or the hope of gain that animates them; it is the pleasant excitement that the game affords. Such men usually regard the small sum so risked as so much money thrown away; and as a matter of fact that is the right way to regard it, for those who pit their money and skill against gamblers sufficiently educated to make a living in Chicago possess more nerve than discretion. The compiler of this little work advises everybody to forego all games of chance while resident in this city. Confident, however, that with many people old enough and wise enough to know better this advice will utterly be disregarded, a few remarks upon the present status of the gambling fraternity in Chicago may not be thrown away.
In the old days, during the administration of both parties, so far as one can remember, the gambling industry flourished like the proverbial green bay tree. The South side, in the business district, fairly swarmed with “hells” of all descriptions, while the residence portions of the city were scarcely less favored. Passing along Clark street on sultry summer evenings, when the heat of the atmosphere necessitated the opening of doors and windows, the rattle of the chips and the monotonous voices of the croupiers could be distinctly heard by the wayfarer. All that, however, is now changed. Mr. Washburne’s administration, when it came into power, set its face sternly upon “wide-open” gambling; from the very outset the well-known places were compelled to close their doors on pain of a raid and the destruction of their contents. It is, nevertheless, a fact that there are still a large number of professional gamblers in Chicago—presumably there always will be—and while there are no notorious houses open the stranger who is yearning for a little action for his spare cash can be readily accommodated. The notorious Hankins castle on Clark street is tightly closed, but every night there may be found in that vicinity any number of “sporty-looking” gentry who will be only too glad to guide the inquirer to a secluded spot where he can be accommodated with as large or as small a game as his inclination may dictate or his means allow.
That the sporting fraternity live in hopes of the advent of happier times is very evident. Costly gambling furniture in large quantities is stored away in anticipation of the coming into power of a mayor who will look less rigorously on the “profession.” Mr. Hankins himself is credited with having paid the rent of $8,000 per year for two years in advance for his place, which shows his faith in his ultimate ability to re-open. In the old days Hankins’ place was known as the “dinner-pail” home, presumably by reason of the large clientele of workingmen, clerks and other people of small means who deposited their slender earnings with great regularity in his coffers every Saturday night. To this day they tell how a wagon used to drive up to the door a few minutes before ten o’clock every Monday morning and carry away to the bank the load of silver dollars, halves, quarters and dimes left there by the patrons of the establishment within the preceding twenty-four hours. The place in those times was a sight for gods and men. On three floors games were in progress and the rooms thronged to the suffocating point with a variegated assortment of humanity, all bent on the one project—namely, the acquisition of riches on the hazard of the cards or dice. Should the place ever be re-opened the sight will well repay a visit, even though it be merely one of curiosity. Nobody who enters is asked to play, though those who do not are regarded with suspicion. A few minutes, however, is all that is necessary in which to see all that is to be seen.
This description of Hankins’ will serve for any large gambling house. At the present time, however, the industry is carried on sub rosa. There are two or three places which can be readily discovered by the curious, where the “boss” gamblers are in the habit of meeting, and, failing the presence of the common prey, proceed to cheerfully “wolf” each other. The game chosen is the great American game of poker and a nervous man is liable to suffer from shortness of breath at the sight of the bets that are made. There are other places where other games are carried on, but the visitor, if he is sensible, will steer clear of any or all of them. The facilities for running such money traps are so limited and the risk of arrest and punishment so great that the chances of encountering against a “brace” game are about 100 to 1 against the patron; the only consideration with the “slick” gentry who manipulate the games being how to most expeditiously relieve the wayfarer of his wealth at the least possible risk to themselves. Take the advice of an old hand and give the polished and gentlemanly professional gambler of Chicago a very wide berth.
For people of wealth who, afflicted with the speculative mania, desire a larger field of operations than mere roulette, faro or other trifling games, such a field is not difficult to find. On the Board of Trade, where colossal fortunes are sometimes lost and won in an hour, every facility is offered the stranger who desires to take a “flyer.” Stop in any commission house and signify your desire to “play” the market. No introduction is necessary—only sufficient money to “margin” your deal. For the benefit of the uninitiated the system of speculation in grain and provisions may be briefly explained.
If you are possessed of a notion that the market price of wheat or oats is too low to be justified by circumstances and wish to back your expectation of a rise with money, nothing is more simple of accomplishment. In that case order your commission man to buy you 5,000 or 10,000 bushels of the commodity you desire to trade in and deposit whatever sum he demands for margin. Some houses will make trades on a basis of one cent per bushel margin; but that sort of trading is not very satisfactory inasmuch as he will sell you out at the first point or two the market goes against you. The profits or losses on such a deal are easily figured. An advance of one cent a bushel, over and above the agent’s commission of ⅛ of a cent for buying and selling, means a profit of $50.00 from the transaction. A corresponding decline means a loss of the same amount. But if the speculator thinks that the article in which he is dealing is too high in price he puts up his margin and “goes short;” that is to say, he instructs his broker to sell, instead of buying the amount. Sell what one hasn’t got? Well, that would ordinarily be difficult, but the system of margins enables you to do it on the Board of Trade. If the price advances after you have sold “short” you are so much out of pocket; if it goes down you are so much ahead, less always the commission.
