Springfield was a great place for gamblers, and Bill and Dave belonged to the profession. One night, the two met in a saloon on the north side of the square, and Dave proposed a game with Bill, which, not being agreeable, Dave offered to stake a friend to play Bill. Thus the game was started. When Bill sat down to the game he drew out his heavy gold watch and laid it on the table, remarking that he intended to quit the game promptly at 12 o’clock. After nearly two hours playing he had won two hundred dollars, the greater part of which had come from Dave as a loan to his friend. Having broke the friend and Dave also, the latter remarked, “Bill, you’ve got money now, so pay me that forty dollars you’ve been owing me so long.”
“All right,” replied Bill, “there’s your money,” and thereupon passed the forty dollars to Dave.
“Now,” remarked Dave, further, “I want that thirty-five dollars I won off you Friday night.”
Bill’s reply was very courteous: “Beg your pardon, Dave, it was only twenty-five dollars; I put the amount down in my memorandum-book at the time.”
Receiving this mild reply, Dave reached across the table and took Bill’s watch, with the remark, “You’ll never get this watch until you pay me that thirty-five dollars.”
This threw Bill into a violent passion, although he restrained himself. Rising from his chair and looking piercingly into Dave’s eyes, he said: “I am anxious to avoid a row in this gentleman’s house. You had better put that watch back on the table.”
Dave returned an ugly look, and walked out of the room with the watch.
It was the only time, perhaps, in Bill’s life, that he permitted himself to be thus bullied. Everyone who knew him thought he had lost his pluck. It was indeed a seven days’ wonder with the people.
Dave kept the watch two days, during which time Bill remained in his room closely, revolving in his mind whether he should add another to his already long list of victims, or stop there and begin a life which flows in a more peaceful current. But he was not permitted to think and resolve without the advice of his friends. Almost every hour one or more of them would come to him with a new story about Dave’s boasts and intentions.
On the morning of the third day after the row, Dave sent word to Bill that he intended “to carry the watch across the square at noon, and to call the hour from Wild Bill’s watch.” Bill sent back the following reply: “Dave Tutt will not carry my watch across the square to-day unless dead men can walk.”