A WHIFF FOR A NICKEL.
I was once traveling through the country with a partner named Barnes. He was not without some good traits, but he was unquestionably the smallest pattern of a man in money matters that I ever had the misfortune to meet. I used to twit him with this fact, and he was accustomed to account for a peculiarity which he did not attempt to deny by saying that he owed it to his grandfather, who had brought him up. He was fond of telling stories of his ancestor’s meanness. When the old gentleman used to send him down stairs, of a winter night, after apples, he used to insist upon his whistling all the time, in order that there might not be any doubt as to the fact that he was not eating any on his way back to the kitchen. Another narrative which he was fond of relating about his grandfather was to the effect that the old man once hired him to go supperless to bed in consideration of the payment of five cents. The next morning his affectionate grandparent, finding that he was exceedingly hungry, insisted upon the return of the five cents before allowing him to eat his breakfast. How much truth there may have been in these stories of Barnes I cannot tell, but I had an opportunity once of observing the closeness of his calculations. We were stopping together at a hotel. He was going out to visit a young woman that evening, and, being engaged in making his toilet and wanting some perfumery, he asked me if I would take a good-sized bottle which was standing upon the dressing case, and repair to a drug store to buy five cents worth of attar of roses. It occurred to me that five cents was not much money to invest in perfumery, but as I knew nothing of the value of attar of roses, I took the bottle, together with the nickel which he handed me, and started for the drug store. When I arrived there I handed the bottle to the man behind the counter, and told him that I would like to get some attar of roses. He smiled graciously, and asked me how much I wanted. In an off-hand way, for I felt rather ashamed of the mission with which I had been charged, I replied: “Oh, give me a nickel’s[nickel’s] worth.” I shall never forget the expression that came into that man’s eyes. He glared at me for a full minute without a word. Then, in a commiserating tone he said: “My friend, attar of roses is worth twenty-five cents a drop, but if you’ll hand me your nickel I’ll let you smell of the bottle.”
It is not necessary to say that from that time forward I did not undertake to execute any commissions for Barnes of a precisely similar character. As I have said before, like a yellow dog, he was not without his good points, but to discover them required more patient assiduity than I possessed.
A GOOD SWIMMER.
As is explained in another chapter, a favorite device of confidence operators is to induce a victim to back a good runner for a race which it has been previously arranged that he shall lose. The method in which the trick is played is one set forth at that part of the work above indicated and need not be more fully described. One of this class of gentry once undertook to “work” a similar trick upon a wealthy man in a western town. He succeeded in making his dupe believe that he was an expert skater. The “sucker” was fond of athletic sports and much given to betting, and in the hope that he had a fair prospect of winning a large sum during the following winter, after the ice had formed and the weather was propitious, he supported him all through the summer. The sharper lived in clover until the cold blasts of winter had touched the lakes and streams with an icy kiss. The smooth, glassy surface being well adapted to the use of skaters, his patron suggested that they should talk business; i.e., make arrangements for the skating contest. The confidence man saw that the “jig was up,” and placidly looking his host in the eye, said: “Well, Colonel, to tell the plain truth, I don’t know much about skating nohow, but I’m the doggondest best swimmer in the country.”
A HUNGRY TRIO.
The preference which some men give to whisky over food is not only surprising, but at times, decidedly embarrassing to those who do not share in the same disposition. A striking illustration of this assertion once happened in my own experience. In company with two partners I was operating a game on the fair-grounds at Macon, Missouri. Luck had not been particularly propitious to us during the day, and night fell upon three hungry and tired gamblers, whose combined resources did not exceed $7. To get something to eat was the main trouble with us all. One of the party was deputed to go into town and purchase some provender, the fact that we were all camping on the grounds preventing our visiting a hotel or restaurant in the village. Unfortunately, the man selected for this all-important duty was one who never hesitated between a glass of liquor and a loaf of bread. I am fully aware that the same statement might be predicated concerning many a consistent prohibitionist; the difference between the prohibitionist and our messenger, however, was that while the former would take the bread, the latter invariably chose the stimulant. We waited long and patiently for his return, and as the hours passed away our hunger increased. We began to doubt whether he might not have deserted us, and the question presented itself, should we ever see him again? At last, in the glimmering darkness we discerned his form approaching with rather uncertain tread. As soon as he came within hailing distance, he accosted us.[us.] “Boys,” said he, “I’m all there.” To say that we felt relieved is to state the case mildly. From the length of time which he had taken to execute his commission, we felt he must have provided a “lay-out” which might have tempted Epicurus himself. The reader may judge of our disappointment when he put down a package which he evidently regarded as the most precious object of life, and on opening which, we found it to contain precisely three bottles of “appetite bitters,” for which he had paid $2.00 per bottle. We said nothing; we felt that language was inadequate to express our feelings. The hour was near midnight, and we retired to our beds upon the ground, in the hope that the sweet oblivion of sleep might bring to us a happiness, equal in degree, if differing in kind, from that which was enjoyed by our companion.
A CASE OF MISTAKEN IDENTITY.
Much is said in this volume regarding the venality of the police. An efficient municipal administration can always suppress gambling, if the task is undertaken in genuine sincerity of purpose and with an inflexible resolution to succeed. As tending to show how susceptible is the average policeman to the influence of a bribe I might relate stories which would fill a work of considerably larger size than this. I have had an extensive and varied experience with the officers of the law. I was once arrested in a Missouri city for having perpetrated a scheme of fraud upon a verdant and gullible stranger. When the policeman placed his hand upon my shoulder and informed me that I was under arrest, my first impulse was to get away, and I twisted my body into as many contortions as are discernible upon the face of a man who is shaving himself with a dull razor. I soon found that escape was impossible. The blue-coated minion of authority held me with a tenacious grip. Then I began to appeal to the finer instincts of his nature. I told him that I was innocent; he laughed at me. I told him of my poverty, talked to him of my family, and otherwise appealed to the gentler side of his character. He listened to all I had to say in silence, and with a smile that Artemus Ward would have described as “coldly cynical.” Inserting the thumb and forefinger of my right hand in my vest I drew out a ten dollar treasury note, which I quietly slipped into the hand of the protector of public morals. His large fingers closed over it with the same firm grasp with which they had prevented my escape. Stepping back from me one or two paces, he looked earnestly into my face and exclaimed, “Well, begorrah, an’ Oi believe Oi’ve got the wrong man.”[Oi’ve got the wrong man.”]
THE WOULD-BE CONFEDERATE DISAPPOINTED.