THE MORALITY OF POKER.

Lyttelton Times, Volume CV, Issue 12408, 23 January 1901, Page 8

THE MORALITY OF POKER.

(New Torlc Sur*.! “ Folks nften says that playin’ poker is immoral, an’ tends towards a hardenin of the heart,” said- old man Greenhut cue afternoon when business was. slack, “but that sort o’ talk is on’y hot adr. Fellers lose, an’ not bean’ gam© they squeal when the other feller takes the money, an’ go yawpin’ ’round fellin’ how t’ain’t Christian to get money that way. I’ve always noticed when them same fellers wins they hadn’t nothin’ to say about immorality, nor yet them fine feelin’s as ought to keep a man f’m absorbin’ other folk’s' money. Them same finer feelin’s is hogwasb, an’ is never heerd on, ’ceptin’ f’m losers. “The trouble with folks as dtraft under-_ stand poker is that. most.-of ’em jnixes it up’ with gamblin’, .an’ fails ,to get. to the reel in’ardness o’ the game. I ain’t sayin’ that gam-blink is moral. The Scriptiers tells better than that.‘-.(Fellers has ast me' why I didn’t .get a faro lay-out for the back room, but I never seed no good reason for investin’ money in immoral schemes o’ that nature, when poker has been provided by Providence as a means of improv■£n the human race without expense or Visk to the proprietor of the place. “ That ’ere hard’nin’ b’ the heart talk, though, makes -me sick. Just because a man takes money as has com© to him, honest an’ natural, in the course of a game, havin’ w'on it proper, by his superior knowledge o’ human natur’- an’ the principles o’ poker, or, maybe, by bein’ capable though to handle the cards so slick that the other players don’t see what he’s doin’, other folks that ain’t -as capable as he is heave dornicks at him,. an’ call him. a' monster o’- greed.. To hear ’em .talk you’d think a man that knowedl enough to win at poker was incapable o’ doin’ a manly or a charitable act. “Whenever I hear such rot,” -and here the old man stopped for a moment and glared at Ben M’-Aliister, who had been complaining rather bitterly, that afternoon, of his ill-luck the night before, “I always think o’ Sam Wilson that uster travel the river pretty steady about thirty years ago. He were one o’ the best players I ever knowed, an’ a man, every inch of him. You_never heer’d him whimper if he lost, though I don’t remember ever, seein’ him lose more’n once or twice when he •had l sense enough to see he was stacked up against a combination o’ three players an’ stood no show, so just naturally he cashed in an’ quit. “ Wilson was the quickest man with his weapons I ever saw, but he never dra-wed ’em ’thout it were reelly necessary. I never knowed him to kill a manhut once, an’ that were a case where he had to do it to save himself. The feller drawed -a knife on him, an’ 'Sam shot him in the wrist, same as he usually dfdl ■ in such oases, hut'the feller was good grit as I ever see, an’ ’stead o’ givin’ up as a man gen’ally does when lies dropped! his knife an’ has his hand disabled, he cussed a little, but stopped an picked up his knife with his left hand, an jumped at Wilson-as quick -as _ a cat, not losin’ no .time *with his cussin’._ Just naturally Wilson had to shoot again, an this time he couldn’t stop to aim for the wrist, an’ so he plunked him through the heart. , “He was awfully sorry, Sam was, an when he come to the bar for a drink after it was all over he talked it over with me. ‘I hate to kill a man,’ says lie, ‘because there’s always more or less talk about it, an’ it hurts a man’s reputation, in the business,, even if some d n Coroner don’t start in to make trouble him. You see folks don’t care about playih’ cards with a man that shoots too often, so I never do" it if I can help it, an when I do shoot I’m always particular not to do much damage.. The trick is to disable ai man, an’ you can gen’ly do that by pinggin’ his right wrist,, But when a man goes plumb crazy, like that galoot to-night, there’s .only one thing yen can do. ’Twasn’t no use shoutin’ him in the other hand, ’cause if he won’t stop fightin’ when his right hand’s gone, he won’t stop till he-s plumb dead, otherwise I’d much rather ha’ broke his other wrist.’

“That was Sam, all over. Hated to make an unnecessary trouble for himself or anybody else, but if be bad! to-do it in the way o’ business he’d do it good an’ bard. Ho was a .thorough business man, Sam was, an’ dealt cards as slick as any man I ever see. He was a keen player, an’ while he would do anything' ini reason for a friend outside o’ the game, "hi© wouldn’t grant no favours - ait' the table. When he played it was for blood every time, an’ he gen’ly drawed the blood. “There was a feller ran up against him a good many times in the course o’ the five years I was ’tendin’ bar on the olsJ Prairie Belle, an’ finally run up once too often for his own good. His naimie was Aleck Whittridge, an’ he were a slick player himself, though he couldn’t deal like Sam could. “

“I’ve seen ’em play time an’ again, an’ I was there when they met for the last time, so I know just what happened, an’ it were extremely like Sam to do just what he did-bn that occasion, which is why I tell the story as showin’ that poker don’t affect a" man’s character in no such way as I’ve beer’di some say it does.”

■ Here the old man stopped again' and looked hard at M’Allister, hut M’Allisber didn't care about arguing the point, so presently the old man resumed.

“ Wilson an’ Whittridge had been friends, it seems, for a good; many years, an’ had been in the together before they really made a business o’ playin’ cards. ’Pears they were both took with the same gal. She was a handsome woman, too, for I seen her often years afterward after Sam had , but that’s what Pm-goin’ to tell about.

“ ’Fears she was Jike all gals, an’ thought more of Whittridge than she did o’ Wilson at fust, ’cause she was took with bis good looks an’ the pretty way he talked to her,' an’ she wan’t of an age to appreciate, Sam’s superior business ability. So she married Whittridge, an’ as far as I know madd him a tol’able good wife. 'Sain didn’t cut up none, an’ he an’ Whittridge never had no open quarrel, but there was ill- feelin’ between ’em all the same, so when they, played together, as they did sometimes, Sam always took a natural satisfaction in wipin’ up the ground with the feller that got his gal away from him. Still', he were, that much of a gentleman, an’ had that much good feelin’, that he never could refuse to do a good turn for anybody, always providin’ that it were outside o’ the gain©.' That’s how it was he done a good turn for Whittridge at the last. “It were in the fall o’ ’72, I think. 'Anyways, it were thereabouts that they were both playin’ in a party o’ high rollers that was cornin’ up the river f’m New Orleans. Money was plenty them, days, ..an’ the crowd was all pretty well fixed’, so the game- was a stiff one. “There warn’t no limit, an’ there-warn’t no talk o’ table stakes even. You could bet anything this side o’ the north star if you felt, like it, on’ could make good, so. just, naturally there was some careful playin’ done, with now an’ again some outrageous bluff that nobody felt like callin’. I knowed well enough how ’twas likely to come out, for there wanf-t a man in the party could handle the cards the way Sam Wilson could, but he was too careful to play so’s to rouse suspicion. Just naturally, he took care to give himself the best cards when he dealt, hut' he warn’.t talari 1 no undue advantage of it. If he’d ha’ won too much on his own deal he’d ha’ been likely to get in trouble, an’ Sam never looked for trouble. He was one that was satisfied with the percentage when it was on his side, an’ didn’t try to get everything in one mouthful. : ■

“ Well, just naturally, after about twenty-four hours 5 play, them New Orleans fellers bad all either gone broke or had got enough. Whittridge had made several thousand,, an 5 Sam had got the rest. There must ha’ been over thirty thousand change hands in the game up to that point, an 5 you might ha 5 thought them two would ha 5 been satisfied to quit, but that was ’ just what neither one of 'em 'd do.

* ~ When

was tired but an’ got up to leave tile gaWej thqpr two kep’ right on playin’ without a word, an’ 1 see it.was likely to be. all day with Whittridge before they got through.' He was sore to think Wilson had got & much more o’ the money than he had, aa’ •Wilson was just as willin’ to win his money l as anybody else’s, even if he warn’t a leeti*" more willin’. * “He didn’t make no .quick play of jltj though. Sam Wilson were an artist, fol. sure. He knowed well enough that if Whittridge was to get suspicious ’ wouldn’t take long for him to tell storie.that would- hurt his reputation, an’ Sam had the name o’ playing as straight a: gam© as was played. There warn-’t manyj as knowed 1 him the way I knowed him, an’ I, for one, knowed enough to say nothin’. I wouldn’t he fellin’ this about him now if he warn’t dead. .- ’■ “So he played along -for morin- an hour, letting Whittridge win pretty often, an’ even lettin’ him get -a couple o’ -thousand ahead once?' There couldn’t-•fiobodyfiac-* cujse a Mail" o’ crooked play that'-did- that: But all r the time he knowed every card hei gave WhrfJtridge afore Whittridge seed-’em! himself, an’ Whittridge hadn’t no more slfotf than a baby. It' were Only a question o’ how much Wilson proposed to take. “Finally it ’peared he intended td take it all, for after the . card had run .pretty small for ten minutes or so he gave Whittridge three aces afore the draw. TheyVas playin’ a ten-dollar ante, ' ah’ IVhittridge' had his ten up, o’ course. ’ Wilson looked at his cards for a minute an’ said : —‘Suppose* we make it fifty,’ shovin’ ,up his, money" as ha spoke. That made a thirty-dollar raise, -o’ course, an’ Whittridge was pleased enough.; ‘Make it a hundred,’ he says, puttin’ up ai century an’ pullin’. down his ten. ‘ Twol hundred, if you like,’ says Sam, careless like, knowing that Whittridge would keep oh. ‘S’pose we say five,’ says Whittridge.' ‘'A thousand,’ says Wilson. ‘ Two,’ says Whittridge. ‘All right,’ says Sain. They’di both been puttin’ up the stuff as they talked,! so there was four thousand: on the table when they drew cards. . “ Whittridge had about four, thousand more with him, an’ Sam knowed.it, an’ was calculatin’ to take it on his hand. -So he gave Whittridge a pair o’ queens in the draw, an’ took;three cards himself, knowin’ that Whittridge would bet all he had on an ace full against a three-card draw. There ain’t many men- that wouldn’t ’thout they suspected the dealer, an’ Sam had kep’ up the game all that time so’? Whittridge wouldn’t suspect anything. It was very capable play. “’Course, it were Sam’s first bet, an’ he put up a thousand, calla-tin’ that Whittridge would raise him two, which he did.' That gave Sam his chance, an’ he raised it two thousand more, makin’'Whittridge call fora show for his pile or else lay down. Just naturally he called ' for a ' show, puttin’ up the , last cent ■be had, which: Sam raked, in as cool a® could be, shcAvin’. down four kings. “Whittridge turned- as whit© as cotton, an’ sorb o’ gasped as if he’d been stabbed, but h© never squealed. He sat for a minute lookin’ at the cards, an’ then drawin’ a. long- breath he- got up and walked out on the deck. Sam looked after' him with a, sort o’ gleam in his eye, but he didn’t say nothin’. Then he put -Ms money-in his pocket, an’ turnin’ to me he said, ‘ S’posin’ we have a bottle o’ wine.’ ,

“The . bar was closed, for it was near two o’clock, an’ I’d been lookin’ on at the gam© for an hour or so, kind o’ lookin’ for somethin’ to happen, knowin’ -what I did about the two men, but o’ course I was •willin’ to open up agin for a customer like Wilson, so we goes to the bar together an’ I opens a bottle o’ champagne an’ wo drank together as we had many . a time' before. While we was a sip-pin-’ the second glass there was.a ,pistol shot on th© deck, an’ I: started an’ looked at Sam. I knowed wbait .he was thimkin’ of well enough, ap.’ I was .thinkin’ the same thing, hut he never moved - a muscle. I was curious to see; whether he’d smile, hut he didn’t. He just wept o-n sippin’- his wine as if he 'hadn’t; heer’d nothin-’,, which I. knowed he heer’d it as well as I had. ' ,

“I did-n’t say nothin’ neither,, waitin’ to ■hear wlbait he' would say - when he got ready to say anything, but while we stood there -drinkin’, in walks .Whittridge. " Just you could ha’’ knocked roe down with a-cotton ball, for I was thinkin’ o v him - just then as a corpse, -either on the deck or in the water, for fellers gener’ly gets-qntside'the.raal to shoot themselves, which is a good thing, .for .S, saves a lot of trouble on the boat. I looked at Wilson, but She never quivered. He set down his glass an- said, ■ Open another bottle, will.you? I think Mr. Whittlid'ge will join, us.’

“But Whittridge shook his head an’ saio kind o’ hoarse like : ‘ No,. I don’t want tc. drink, hut I Want to ask a favour: of you, Wilson.’ ■ “ Sam’s face ikind o’ hardened a bit, as ii he thought that Whittridge was goin’ tc ask for a show to win back his' money oa wind, .an’ he told ..me afterward, that that’4 just what he was tlunkin’, in which .cast! he’d ha’ had to-say no, that bein’ against all principles o’ poker. But he just says; ‘What is it?’: ’ ,

“‘ I want you to lend me your gun,’ says Whittridge. ‘I dropped mine on deck just mow as I was takin’ it out, an’ it went oil .'when it struck the deck an’ ; fell overboard.’ “Sam looked at him harden- ’n ever when he said this. He thought, same as 1 did, that Whittridge was up to some game, an’ was goin’ to shoot him with his own gun if he gave it to him, hut one look satisfied him. ‘ Certainly,’ he said, as pleasant as custard pie. ' “ With that he put both hands behind him an’ pulls out two gun-s. one in each hand. Reachin’ his left hand nut he offers Whittridge the one in that hand, at the same time keophi’ the One in -his right pointed, kind o’ careless like; at Whittridge. ' An’ the pistol he gave him, he gave with the muzzle ‘ toward - Whittridge, so, ii he was goin’ to be funny he’d have tc fumble with it for.-a minute, which would give 'Sam all the time necessary. ■ . “ But .that wasn’t ..Whittridge’s game.. He just says ‘Thank you,’ an’ walked out again. Sam looked at pie kind o curious, an’ walks out after him. Just naturally I locks up my door and-walks out after both .of 6IU* , . i • i *r ‘ *4. .“When I got out on deck I see Waitbridge climbin’ over the .rail just for aro of the paddle-wheel: with the gun m fhis hand, and Sam about thirty _feet off lookin’ at him. Just as Whittridge was raisin’ his gun to shoot himself the mate comes a rushin’ up an’ yellin at him, bUu Wilson stepped for’ard an’ says, very quiet,_ ‘None o’ that. Don’t you know better than to interfere with a gentleman?’ Ho took care to let the mate see that he had a-gun in his hand,; too-, ‘an’ the mate he naturally stopped .just before - reachin’Whittridge. : ‘ / ■'• • “Whittridge, he seen it all, an’ he.,turns to Sam an’ says, ‘Thank you, Wilson.’. An- with that-he shoots an’ falls square in front o’the paddle wheel. ; < • “That was all the proof I. ever wanted to convince-me that poker don’t rob eu main cf his natural goodness o’ dispofatkm if he kid any, but Sam- Wilson; gave even better, proof than that. Two months afterward, he married the widder.”