Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1880-09-26
HIS LAST DEAL.
A Pacific Coast Gamblers Story OF
His Final Game.


His Final Game.
ST never dealt again. I've dealt the
game for twenty years, but I've quit
now. Imade nothing nor lost anything.
and, but for sight / once saw, | should
probably be gambler still. Hereby
hangs tale. Let me tell it,
''Some three years ago I ran high
toned game at certain place you proba-
bly, know, for it strikes me saw you
there. It was square game, as l will
leave any one to say-a thriving game
for I dealt for half the hoods in town,
and often had as many as five lay outs
at time, with too much business on
hand to even get time to rest. One
evening young chap strolled in, with
sort of curious stare on his face, and
concluded right there that he was green.
He was fair-headed, and had pair of
blue eyes and clean-cut features-an IN
nocent-looking young fellow, if ever l
saw one. He only required glance to
convince you that he was stranger In
the gambling-room. He soon was at
home, though, for I saw in his blue eyes
the love OF play, and, after that evening,
he was constant visitor. He played
his pile right up, and never growled if
his luck was hard and, on every sec
ond card, he'd stack the limits up in
blue. Take it altogether, his luck was
hard sometimes the hardest, I think. l
ever saw. I've known him to lose, at a
single deal, seven double shots.
Business for me, of course, but
somehow it almost seemed too bad. l
couldn't say word, though, and yet I
liked the boy. He had lots Of the filthy.
I think, from the day he began, he must
have dropped cool 100000 on the
game, and he never growled.
We both quit gambling the same
night-he, poor lad, for sufficient rea-
sons, and because I loathed the game.
It was in this wise:
His coin gave out in deal or two,
and he put up diamond ring, just to
see his il-luck out, you know. The
chips soon went. He had pin, fam
ing stone in massive metal. He passed
that in without word, and drew $50 in
gold So help me God I wished him
luck as heartily as any player there but
no, his last stake went my way on los
ing ace. He drew $500 more, [ think,
on his watch and chain, and tried his
line bets again, but his luck was gone.
My God! I'll never forget the pale,
haggard look that crossed his face, but
he was game. He never uttered word,
and kept his chair like pillar of stone.
For a moment he seemed dazed at his
reverses, but suddenly his eye caught
the thin, worn circlet Of dull gold on his
little finger. He looked at it little
while, and dark wave of hot crimson
blood passed over his face, for the Cir
clet seemed to cling even faster than the
flashing gem he had passed in before.
He at last stripped it off his finger and
handed it to me. It came reluctantly,
this worn old ring. What can I have
on this ~ he asked. I don't know
what It's value is, but I'll redeem it first
of ALL It might have cost SIS new, but
it was worthless then.
"Still I passed out fifty stack in re-
turn, just to let him try again. He
planked it down in the pot, and then
low upon the table he laid his face on
his folded arms. Well, for wonder,
his luck changed, and he won three
times. He took no notice Of me. as ]
told him when the limit barred, and so
we played two fifty on each card. Would
you believe it? In the deal the pot
won out and never lost And still be
lay with his face hid in his arms. The
deal was out, and I shook him up, but
not muscle moved, and, raising his
face, I started back in horror at the
CLASSY expression of his eyes, for the boy
woe Hood -