The Robinson boys had great confidence in Carroll, and so did "Dutch Jake" have in me. I was at least fifty pounds heavier than Carroll, and I knew that was a great advantage, even if his head was as hard as my own. It was finally agreed that there would be no betting, so we came together. I did not strike my very best, for I was a little afraid of hurting the little fellow; but then he traveled on his head, so I thought I could give him a pretty good one.

After we struck, Carroll walked up to me, laid his hand on my head, and said:

"Gentlemen, I have found my papa at last."

He had the hardest head I ever ran against; and if he had been as heavy as I was, I can't say what the result would have been if we had come together in earnest.

Poor fellow! He is dead now, and I know of no other man with as hard a head, except it is myself. My old head is hard and thick, and maybe that is the reason I never had sense enough to save my money. It is said of me that I have won more money than any sporting man in this country. I will say that I hadn't sense enough to keep it; but if I had never seen a faro bank, I would be a wealthy man to-day.

SAVED BY HIS WIFE.

I shall never forget a trip that I took many years ago in the steamer _Tagleona_, a Pittsburg boat. It was her first trip out, and Adam Clark, who has now been dead for many years, was with me as a partner. He was doing the playing, and money was plenty.

Clark was an Englishman, and when he spread his board in the hall- way and made his introductory speech, a great crowd gathered about; for as he dropped his h's, like all c.o.c.kneys, it was very amusing to hear him talk. In those days the big fish had the first choice, and the small fry, or poor fish, had to wait around some time before they got a chance to lose their money. I noticed an old man hanging around, and so I sized him up as a pretty solid fellow, and giving my partner the wink, I called up all hands to the bar, and they all came willingly enough except a couple of fellows, who hung back. I sent one of the crowd back to invite them up, as I did not want them to see what the old man lost. They came along, and while we were at the bar Adam downed his man for $4,000 at one bet.

When we came back from the bar, Adam kept right on playing as if nothing had happened, using the same cards with the corner turned up. When the poor fish saw this they all wanted to play, so I said:

"Boys, let's make up a pony purse and give him a good bet."

This was readily agreed to, and when I asked Adam what was the least he would turn for, he said $2,000. I was pretty sure there was not that amount of money in the party, but I remarked that I would go half of it. Then a little wizen-faced, dried-up old man said he would put up $400. The rest chipped in, and $900 was raised. I put up the balance, and we were all ready to turn, when down the cabin rushed a woman squealing like a stuck pig. Adam looked up, and the little woman grabbed the dried-up old man and shouted:

"Where's my money? Give me my money!"

Of course such a commotion aroused all the pa.s.sengers on the boat, who were anxious to see what the trouble was. I got the old lady to one side, and when she cooled off a little, she said that she had $400 in her dress pocket and had lain down to sleep; that when she awoke she found her money gone, and knew no one had taken it but her husband, as he had done such a trick before.

"I knew he was gambling," she said.

Adam counted out the $400 and handed it back to the old man, and said:

"That settles it. I won't take the bet."

Somebody turned the card for the balance, and, of course, Adam won.

At another time a man lost a few hundred dollars and then went back and got the keys of his wife's trunk, and, securing some jewelry and a fine shawl, sold them to a pa.s.senger, and receiving the money came around and lost it. After the game was all over I learned of the occurrence, and going to the party who had purchased the goods I made him disgorge, and paid him what he paid for them. Taking the goods and wrapping them up in a paper, I handed them to the lady, at the same time I advised her to keep her keys from her husband, and have no doubt she was very grateful to me for it, for she seemed to be. I did not want the lady to lose her jewelry and shawl, for I have noticed that a man who will gamble away all his money, and then steal his wife's money, jewelry, or clothes to raise a stake, is not the man to replace what he has stolen, in any great hurry.

COLD STEEL.

We got aboard of Captain Charles Blunt's boat at Omaha, Neb., bound for St. Louis, Mo. We played our games during the trip, without anything of notice occurring until we made a landing at a wood station, about twenty miles above St. Joseph, Mo. It was a lonely place in the woods, with nothing but long wood-piles to make it a desirable place to stop over night at. There had been some trouble between the deck-hands, who were mostly Irishmen, and some of the officers of the boat. So the former chose this lonely spot to settle the matter. After loading the wood they all armed themselves with clubs and bowlders, and took possession of the stairway, swearing that no man should come down on deck or let go the line until their wrongs were righted. Captain Blunt was a brave man, and did not like to be forced to do anything against his own free will; but he did not know just how to manage those fellows, for they were a bad crowd, and had the advantage of him in numbers; besides he had no arms on board except a few pistols, and he knew that an Irishman did not fear gunpowder. Finally I said to the Captain:

"If you will take my advice, we can soon run those fellows ash.o.r.e, and then we can cut the line and leave them."

He asked me what I would do, so I told him to get all the butcher knives in the kitchen, and everything else on board that would cut, or looked like it would, and arm the officers and pa.s.sengers, and we would charge down the steps on to the fellows.

He thought it a good plan, so we were soon ready. I wanted the largest knife, telling the Captain I would lead if he would let me have it. He wanted the glory of leading the attack himself, so I had hard work to get the largest one; but I did get one about fifteen inches long. We all rushed out of the cabin and down the steps with a war-whoop, and before the deck-hands had time to rally, we were onto them, cutting right and left. We did not want to kill; we only wanted to scare them. I got a lick on the head; it did not hurt, but it made me mad, and I cut two or three fellows across the part that they sit down on, and they began to yell cold steel, and made a rush for the plank. The others followed, and were in such a hurry they did not take time to find the plank, but jumped overboard and waded out. Some one cut the line, and we were soon away from sh.o.r.e. The Captain told the pilot to hold the boat, and then he told the deck-hands if they would come on board and behave themselves he would take them to St. Joseph. They promised they would not raise any more disturbance, so he took them on board and we started on our way.

Soon after starting some one told the Captain that the deck-hands were talking about having me arrested when we got to St. Joseph, so he put me ash.o.r.e on the opposite side of the river, and when he was through with his business at St. Joseph he came over after me and took me to St. Louis. We landed alongside of the steamer _Emigrant_ a short distance below St. Joseph. Captain Blunt went over on board and told the officers all about our gallant charge.

My old friend, Henry Mange, who keeps a boat store in New Orleans, was running the bar on the _Emigrant_ at the time, and he often asks me about the war on the Missouri River.

"RATTLESNAKE JACK."

"Rattlesnake Jack" was about the last man I worked with as a partner playing three-card monte. His right name was Jackson McGee. He was born and raised in the mountains of Virginia, and spent much of his early life catching snakes, which he would sell to showmen, who gave him the name of "Rattlesnake Jack." He was over fifty years of age, and weighed about 160 pounds, at the time he and I worked together. He was a good talker, and had but few equals at throwing the three cards. He looked like the greenest sort of a backwoodsman when he had his "make-up" on. He was not the bravest man in the world, but he was not afraid of snakes, and could make some good big bluffs with his long six-shooter. He is now living in West Virginia with his family, and no one would think, to see him, that he used to catch rattlesnakes for a living, or played three-card monte with old Devol. He has a beautiful daughter, who is highly accomplished, and Jack is proud of her.

Old Jack and I were on board of the steamer _Natchez_ one Sat.u.r.day night, coming out of New Orleans, and she had a large number of pa.s.sengers on board. We did not see any good monte suckers, so I opened up a game of rouge-et-noir and did a fair business until 11 o'clock; then I closed up and went to the bar, where I met a gentleman I had often seen on the packets. He knew me and my business, for he had seen me play monte several times. He invited me to join him in a drink, and then laughingly said:

"Devol, how is the old business, anyway?"

I laughed back, saying: "Oh, it's just so-so; but let's take another drink."

He accepted, and while we were drinking, old "Rattlesnake Jack"

walked up and said to the barkeeper:

"Mister, how much you ax fur a dram o' liquor?"

The barkeeper told him 15 cents.

"Fifteen cents?" says Jack. "Wall, now! Up whar I live you can get a dram for 5 cents; but let's have her, even if she does cost 15 cents. I reckon as how it must be perty good."

The barkeeper set him out a small gla.s.s and a bottle. Jack looked at the gla.s.s, picked it up, and stuck his finger in it, then set it down and said:

"Say, mister, do you call a little thing like that a 15 cent dram o' liquor?"

The barkeeper told him he did. Jack filled the gla.s.s full, saying:

"Up whar I live they give you a tin cup when you take a dram."

He pulled out a roll about the size of a "boarding house pillow"

to pay for the drink, and the smallest bill he had was $100. That made my friend open his eyes, and he whispered to me:

"Devol, he would be a good subject for you."

I replied, "Yes; and I am going to have some of that money before I go to bed."

My friend then turned to Jack and said: "Old boy, where do you come from?"

"I used to live in Greenups," replied Jack.

"Where in the world is Greenups?"

"Wall, Greenups is up nigh the Big Sandy."

As I was born in the part of the country, and knew something about the people, I asked Jack if he was one of those fellows who made the counterfeit half-dollars on the Big Sandy. He laughed and said:

"No; but I'd spent more'n a half-bushel of 'em for dames afore they got on to 'em."

I then asked Jack where he was bound for, and he replied;

"Wall, you see I sold my farm up on 'Sandy' for a perty big pile, and pap writ me to come out whar he lives in Texas and buy another; so I'm just goin' out to see pap, and if I likes it out thar, I reckon as how I'll stay."