Little more than a year ago the pool room was victimized by some adroit sharpers who tapped the telegraph wires, and by withholding messages for a few minutes were enabled to make bets which proved disastrous to the proprietors of the institution. The Western Union was suspected of complicity in the scheme, but a careful watch failed to reveal any crookedness on their part. The tapped wire was finally located, and the plan was found to have been originated by a man whose reputation as a professional “crook” has earned for him the insertion of his photograph in a prominent position in every rogues’ gallery in the country. Strange as it may seem, the sufferers made no effort to bring the sharper to justice. They even shielded him at the time, and are supposed to have protected him from arrest upon a requisition from the governor of Indiana, by giving him secret information. Of course such information could be obtained only from an official source, and one of the city officers who is believed to have an interest in the pool room stands very close to the quarter from which the knowledge might have been had.
Next to the pool room, the gambling establishment which enjoys the largest patronage is that known as Sherwin’s rooms, situated over a saloon on East Seventh Street. Not many years ago one of the proprietors of this place found it convenient to absent himself from St. Paul, owing to his alleged connection with a brawl in which a man lost his life. When public indignation had cooled down, through some mysterious influence brought to bear on the authorities, the genial gamester was allowed to return, and is at present plying his former vocation without molestation.
Not many months since, a desperate affray occurred in those rooms in which a white man was dangerously stabbed. The affair was brought to the notice of the authorities, but no steps were taken to punish the assailant or to close the place. The injured man was an employee of the city, and, in the slang of the streets, “stood in with the gang.” He was easily persuaded not to prosecute the negro, for the reason that such a step on his part would call public attention to the existence of the gambling hell and compel the police to take some action, “for when the ball is once set rolling, you cannot tell when it will stop, you know.” Nearly all the ordinary games of chance are played at Sherwin’s.
In connection with the establishment, refreshments are sold, and if a player should win any considerable sum he is at once surrounded by the harpies, male and female, who urge him to expend his winnings in wine and liquors, and make “a good fellow” of himself. In this way a large percentage of the money lost at the tables is again taken in by the proprietors over the bar.
Another well-known gambling hell is Banigh’s European Hotel, where the usual games are carried on.
Besides the places already mentioned, there are a number of dives of a low character, scattered about the city. Nearly every central thoroughfare contains at least one. Their location is known to every man about town, and it is idle to suppose that the police are ignorant of their existence. On Minnesota Street gambling dens of the lowest description flourish, for the accommodation of the colored population, and where “crap shooting” is the favorite amusement. The police have recently found it necessary to close one of the most disreputable of these resorts, because of the frequency of dangerous brawls which occurred there.
If the category of the gaming resorts above given comprised the whole story of gambling in St. Paul, the tale would not materially differ from that which might be related of nearly every large city. But places of the character described do not constitute one-tenth part of the number of gaming resorts in the city. Out of all the hotels in St. Paul, there are only one or two where gambling is prohibited, and in which the proprietors do not knowingly rent rooms for gaming purposes. These rooms are usually occupied by professionals, who are guests at the hotels, but whose character is well known. Faro and poker are the games most commonly played, and sometimes stakes run up to a considerable amount.
The saloons swell the list of places where this vice is practiced. The bar room which does not permit card playing for money in its back room is a rarity, and sometimes games of no little magnitude are played at these places. When the police are questioned as to the existence of gambling in the city, they invariably reply that they are not aware of its existence within the corporate limits. And while there is no evidence to prove that they do actually know that practices of the sort described are being carried on, to believe that they are ignorant is too severe a strain upon the credulity of the average citizen.
In private clubs there is much gaming and the stakes are often high. It appears, however, to be beyond the police powers conferred by the existing laws to put a stop to this species of gaming. The mania seems to have infected every grade of society from the highest to the lowest. “All sorts and conditions of men” gamble. Young merchants, confidential clerks, trusted book-keepers, wage workers of all descriptions, and even school boys. Men of religious professions form no exception, and a church member is by no means a rara avis at the tables.
No form of gambling is so universally popular or so widely patronized as the Louisiana State Lottery. The head quarters for the State of Minnesota are located in St. Paul. The manager employs a fair sized clerical force to assist him in the distribution of tickets, which are scattered broad-cast wherever it is believed that there is a possibility of their sale. Almost every saloon has a lottery agent, and these men are allowed from 2½ to 7 per cent on their sales. A large proportion of the people who buy these tickets are regular purchasers, and make an investment (usually a permanent one) of from $1.00 to $10.00 every month. Bona fide instances of winning through this species of gambling are exceedingly rare.