The herald and mail. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1873-188?, 1876-02-18
THREE.CARD MONTE.
Gambling On the Green-A Mountain EN-
pSricnce in the south.

| 20 you UOn kHOH siL JIiluS dDOu
three-card monte, Ell? Now, just wait
minute, and I'll show you something
Here are three business cards, all alike
PlI take the plain side of them, and OF
this one I'll mark large round spo
with pen. Now, watch close"
These remarks were addressed to al
Express representative a few evening"
since, by young man who had beer
known to the professional as one of the
most daring young confidence men and
three-card throwers in the country.
'Now," he continued, 81 take this
card so, and place it on the table. This
is the one with the mark on it. put
the two Others on either side fit, and
you can turn it up now and look at it
for yourself"
The reporter did so. Sure enough,
| the middle card had the spot.
''Now, again, l take up this card
| slowly, and throw it over in the place
| of the other, and transfer the one ON the
left to the place of the one on the right,
and the marked one is now on the left
instead of being in the middle, isn't it p
The reporter thought that such was
| the case, and remarked that there was
no doubt about it.
''Pick it up and see," said slippery
Ned
The reporter turned over the card
! 1t was a blank. He also turned the
| middle with like result, and found
the marked spot on the last card to the
right.
''There," said Ned, f'you see if you'd
had thousand dollars bet on that, you'd
been left, wouldn't you p
The Express writer was forced to adj
NIT that such would have been the re-
suit, but also made a mental reserva-
ton to the effect that whenever he be-
became the possessor of a thousand dol
lars he wouldn't bet it on any kind of a
game, yeu bet.
CRY it again" urged Ned.
The reporter did so with the same re-
suit, although in each case the motion
of Ned's fingers were slow and deliber-
ate.
"PIl show you," said he {" I take
this card with the spot on it, and bend
ing it like the others, put it in my fin
gers. | make a motion as though | was
throwing it out, but l merely shove it
quickly down, and throw out the next
card to it. You keep your eye on the
one which is marked, or in a regular
way, the ace, and there you get left
again. Now let me show you" And in
a few moments it was so well explained
that the reporter had hardly any trouble
in picking up the proper card. Then the
.se4aexatGs smutted the. corner ef-a card q
little and gave an illustration of that
proceeding.
Where is the best place to work."
asked the reporter.
"To tell the truth, from St. Louis to
4 1,O = oh oE
people of Indiana and Illinois are about
as green as you will find them anywhere;
but the Vandalia company is 50 strict
that you can't get half show on that
road, and it amt worked by the prOfes-
sion now, at all. West of st. Louis,
though. the roads are all easily worked.
Pan out well, too, you can bet your bot
tom dollar. But, speaking of Indiana,
the best road in the state is the Louis
vile and New Albany and Chicago. You
recollect how Burke Dwyer scared
whole train load, got scads of money out
of one or two passengers, took up his
cards and bounced off between Green
castle and Cloverdale. 1t was on the
same road that a rich passenger, betting
with him, gave him deed for saw mill
and two acres of ground, when his money
ran out. But Burke was afraid to take
possession, and so it's been in the hands
of the loser since, as before. But
Burkie's a game fellow, and stands
by his boys. They work train, and
Jump, and when one of them gets stuck
the others hang to him till they get him
off, even if it costs five thousand dollars.
But Burke is too well known on Indi-
ana railroads now. He confines himself
to Illinois, principally, where the harvest
is great, and the reapers but few"
az suppose you have had adventures in
your time, suggested the reporter.
"I Just have. About as lively time
rs can recollect was on the ChattanOo-
ga and Nashville railroad. Two or three
of us were together, and were working a
train out to little place from Chatta-
nooga. We struck greeny, and soon
fleeced him out of a thousand dollars.
When the train came to the first station
after this we jumped off, and thought
we'd run back to Nashville on the next
train; unfortunately for us, the man we
had skinned lived there, and he made |
such fuss that the citizens got after us
and ran us into the mountains. We
stayed up there waiting for the next |
train, and at last got so cold and hungry |
that we ventured to a cabin in the hills. |
When we got to the door, we saw light |
and heard voices. Finally, we knocked |
and went in. By Jerusalem There |
sat the fellow we had cOufidenced in the |
morning, his gun across his knee. He |
had been out hunting for us, and was |
determined to find us if possible. He |
leveled his gun, and threatened to shoot |
if we moved; and we didn't move but |
stood there while he made us fork over
every cent we had got in the morning. |
Then he kicked us out in the open air."
pheasant - remarked the reporter.
eyes, pleasant if one looks at it in |
that light, but that wasn't what made !
me quit the business. There's too much |
of a fellow getting beaten at his own
game. There are men so old at the bus
mess that you'll think that you've got a
guy, but when it comes to guess at the
card he picks it up every time. He can
run on this way and burst the bank. /
know fellow who is now a merchant in
Middlebury, who had his bank broken
in this wav, and went into more GER
tain business"
"Where did you make your last adj
venture Ned?' asked the reporter.
"It was on the Ohio and Mississippi
road, near Olney. | used to work that
road back and forth pretty thoroughly.
One day | got an old fellows watch and
chain, all his money and even his plug
hat, and he squealed. The passengers
went crazy. They locked the doors,
ierked down a section of the bell rope,
and were going to hang me whether or
no. They had the cord around my neck,
but l begged so that they changed their
minds, and, stopping the train, took me
out, tied me to a sapling and let me re-
main there. Ifit hadn't been for some
hunters passing that way, don't know
how ever would have got out. Since
that time I've been out Of the business,
and mean to stay out.
A NASHVILLE ROMANCE. That was
a sad story sent ont from Nashville the
other day. A small boy named Alfred
Reddick, only fifteen years of age, formed
n Iiaison some months ago with the wife
,f D,,-iJ Raas On Friday last The esli-