The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1881-04-14
HIS LAST DEAL.
A Pacific Coast Gamblers Story OF
His Final Game.

81 never dealt again. I've dealt
the game for twenty years, but I've
quit now. 1 made nothing nor lost
anything, and, but for a sight once
saw, l 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
probably know, for it strikes me I saw
you there. 1t was square game, as
viii leave anyone to say-a thriving
game-for l dealt for half the
"bloods" in town, and often had as
many as FIVE ''layouts" at a time, with
too much business ON hand to even get
time to rest. One evening a young
chap strolled in, with sort of curious
stare on his face. and l concluded
right there that he was green. He
was flir-hcaded, and had pair of
| blue eyes and clean-cut features-an
innocent looking young fellow, if ever
l saw one. He oliy required a glance
to convince you that he was stranger
in the gambling-room. He soon was
at home, though, for 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 second card, he'd stack the linn
it's up in blue. Take it altogether his
luck was hard-sometimes, the hard
est, 1 think, ever saw. Pve known
him to lose at a single deal, seven
double shots.
Cuisines for me, of course, but
somehow it almost seemed too bad. I
couldn't say word, though, and yet 1
liked the boy. He had lots of the
filthy" I think, from the day he
began, he must have dropped a cool
$4,000 on the game, and never
growled.
owe both quit gambling the same
night-he, poor lad, for sufficient rea-
sons, and I because I loathed the game.
1t was in this wise:
His coin gave out in a deal or
two, and he put up diamond ring,
just to see his i'll luck out, you know.
The chips soon went. He had a pin,
flaming stone in massive metal. He
passed that in without & word, and
drew $50 in gold. So help me God!
| wished him luck as heartily as any
player there; but no, his last stake
went my way on losing ace. He
drew $500 more, l 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 q word, but kept his
chair like pillar of stone. For
moment he seemed dazed at his re-
verses, but suddenly his eve caught
the thin, worn circlet of dull gold on
his little finger. He looked at it a
little while, and dark wave of bot
crimson blood passed over his face, for
the circlet 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. 1t came
reluctantly, this worn old ring.
What can 1 have on this2' he asked;
'Tll redeem it first of ALL It might
have cost FIVE dollars new, but it was
worthless then.
''Still passed out fifty stack in
return, just TO let him try again. He
planked it down in the pot, and low
upon the table he laid his tace upon his
folded arms. Well, for a wonder, his
luck changed, and he won three
times. He took no notice of me, as l
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 he 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, 1 started back in hor-
ror at the CLASSY expression of his eyes
the boy was dead"