Before the passage of the Johnson law to which reference has been already made, Kansas City was a veritable Mecca for sporting men. Along in the 70’s—in the palmy days of gambling—when the “wide open,” “everything goes,” policy prevailed there were eleven gaming establishments in the town, all of which were doing a most prosperous business. Stakes were high, and the gain or loss of $10,000 at a single sitting called forth little comment among the sporting fraternity.
The Johnson law, however, gave the signal for a hegira of gamblers to the western side of the State line, and its enforcement on the Missouri side of the border has been so perfect that openly there has not been a card run from a box, or a turn called since its passage.
In the halcyon days of gambling in Kansas City, the place was filled with men who had rapidly acquired fortunes in the mines of Old and New Mexico, and Colorado, and in the raising and herding of cattle on the plains. Such men flocked here to gamble, and the “professionals” from the far west came and made this town their headquarters in consequence of the number of dupes who had gathered here. The “capitalists” who made Kansas City their headquarters were allured thither by the prospects of “beating” the “banks,” the number of which steadily increased by the constant accession to the ranks of the players.
At the time of the exodus of the gamblers across the State line there were eleven establishments in the city, at three of which “brace” games were played. Faro was the favorite, but “poker,” of the “stud” variety, “roulette,” and “chuck-a-luck[chuck-a-luck],” were not neglected. About fifty men were employed in these houses, and each “bank” was supposed to possess a “roll” of about $5,000. At times the game ran high, and $2,000 and $3,000 were often won or lost by a single player.
There are now, just across the State line, seven gambling houses, two of them owned by Clayton L. Maltby, one by Frazier & Baughman, one by Cotton & Kennedy, one by Gus Galbaugh, one by Joe. Bassett, and one by Tom Wallace. These houses are all conducted on the “square” principle, and besides faro, have all the “side” games—roulette, hazard, craps, stud and draw poker. The games open at eight o’clock A. M., and often run until daylight the next morning. They are well patronized, and Saturday and Monday nights the rooms are crowded, Saturday and Monday being pay days at the packing houses, manufactories, and other establishments that pay their men weekly. To give the reader an idea of the amount of money these houses have a chance to win, or rather steal, per month, a statement by C. L. Maltby, the principal “banker” of Kansas City may be mentioned. Mr. Maltby has two houses, and is of a calculating and methodical turn. He desired to know exactly what money was exchanged for checks and played against the faro game at one of his houses within a given time. He employed a man to set at the table, from the time the game opened until it closed for the night, and keep an accurate account of the amount paid in for checks. This was kept up for one month, and the grand total amounted to $63,843.75. This money was mainly “changed in” in small amounts, the purchases ranging from $1 to $50, and one individual, at one time, buying $100 worth of checks. Of course Maltby’s game did not win all this money, but the greater part of it found its way into the drawer, and went to swell the bank account of the proprietor.
Among the crowds that throng these rooms you will find the gentleman, the tough, the “Rounder,” and the “Macer.”
The plan pursued by the Kansas City, Kas., authorities to “suppress gambling” is thus described in a daily paper, under date of August 2, 1889:
“Three gambling houses in Kansas City, Kansas, were ‘raided’ by the police last night in the periodical Wyandotte style. The Chief of Police, accompanied by several officers, went to C. Maltby’s place and found thirty or more men gambling. Their names were taken down and the proprietor was required to deposit $10 apiece for his visitors and $100 for himself as security for their appearance in the police court to-day. The police then went away and the gambling was immediately resumed.[resumed.] At G. F. Frazier’s twenty-six men were playing and the proprietor paid $300 to the officers. This morning Frazier, Galbaugh and Maltby appeared in the police court and were formally fined the amounts they deposited. This is the manner in which gambling houses are, to all intents and purposes, licensed in Kansas City, Kas.”
Although public gaming has been checked in Kansas City, Mo., the amount of private gambling is enormous. At the Midland hotel, the best in the city, where wealthy stock men from the far west make their head-quarters, draw poker is a favorite amusement. It is played, however, with the utmost secrecy, but generally for high stakes. At the rooms of the Kansas City club, and other similar organizations, the same game is indulged in, although the stakes are as a rule comparatively moderate. Perhaps the most deplorable feature of the situation, however, is the alarming extent to which the game of draw poker is played in private houses—even those belonging to the most fashionable and exclusive social circles. It is asserted by those who are competent to speak upon the subject, that the love of play has permeated almost every stratum of society.
Apropos of gambling in Kansas City, the following story of one of the clubs in that place, is told: An Eastern merchant (rumor says that he came from Boston) once found himself a guest at a leading hostelry in that city of dust, hills, and grip cars. Being inclined to play a “little poker,” he inquired of the urbane hotel clerk where he could find a “gentleman’s game.” In due time he was introduced into a private “club room,” where the proclivities of the poker-player might be gratified by a “no limit” game. Of course the frequenters were all “gentlemen;” gentlemen, however, of that peculiarly whole-souled variety who would throw a drowning “sucker” a bar of lead as a life preserver. The man from the “hub” played for several hours, and rose from the table a loser to the amount of about two thousand dollars. He was exceedingly wroth, and was fully persuaded that he had been cheated, although he was not able to tell exactly how it had been done. He discharged this Parthian arrow, however, at the crowd, before taking his departure. “Gentlemen,” said he, as he stood before them, hat in hand, “I was assured that I should find this a ‘gentleman’s’ game. You are all gentlemen, and I know it. I appreciate the way in which I have been treated, I appreciate it thoroughly. I’ve got a few dollars left, and if some one of you will be kind enough to tell me where I can sit in a horse-thief’s game, I believe I’ll go around there.”