Evening star., 1898-09-03
Personal Recollec'tions1 Of a Once
Famous Gun-Player.
LIGHT Went OUT In TEE KLONDIKE
Was Known in ereede as a Man
to Be Avoided.
3 s-l-~-
DIED WITH HIS BOOTS ON

| Written for The Evening Star by CIV Warmau.
| thousand burdened burros filled
| The narrow, winding, wriggling trail: ~
A hundred settlers came to build ~
| Each day, new houses In the vale,
| hundred gamblers came to feed 7' - o. 2
| On the same settlers-that Creede.
| Slanting Annie Gambling joe
| And Bad" Bob Ford. ''Sapolio,'
Or '.Soapy'' Smith, as he known,
| Ran games peculiarly their own; '-5.-.
For everything was open wide,
| And men drank absinthe the side.
This was the running record of Creede
Camp as set down at the time, A. D. 1892
With press franchise, force of print
| ers, lead pencil and a power press, the
| writer mad gone to the booming camp to
| establish morning paper, with telegraph
service, in a town that had bsen in exist
yet definitely located on the maps
| 1t was March, and that means r.idwinter
in the mountains, eight ten thousand
| feet above tide water. The snow was illus
| tering down Windy Gulch and fiecking the
| felt hats that covered the heals Of the
| motley multitude that was buying lots from
| the state land board that had come up
| from Denver to sell the school lands upon
which the town had been built. Lots sold
at auction for a hundred, a thousand and
| even five thousand dollars, that had been
worth nothing a year before, and We're
worth little more than nothing a year after
| thu sale.
The water washing down tine dumps was
| bad, the whisky worse, and many men
| were sick Having secured lot by the
| side of the little river that ran through the
camp, the first payment upon which was a
| hundred dollars, we turne1, tired, cold,
| homesick and hungry, to walk away
| In a little bushless spot by the roadside
was board shanty. upon the door of which
| was tackled a tin beer sign. Inside half a
| dozen workingmen-laborers or miners they
might be-were sitting IN wOo1sn penches S
about the stove. They lad been in ami
mated conversation, but nusnad it as they
noted the entrance of a newcomer. One
small man with pale, lustarlcSs hair and
cold, gray eyes, was recognized as Tom,
the shell man-"TrouDlesome Tom" they
called him. l had seen a carpenter Pause
| at Toms three-iegsed stool that day. watch
thu game for a moment, then slowly slide
his tool-bag from his shoulder to the
ground put five dollars the table and
pounce upon one of the shells. He lost tins
five and two more, called tie shell man a
thief and demanded his money back.
Yes" said the man, with his cold eyes
fixed upon the top of the mountain, Il pre-
sumo that's what you wanted with my
money-to give 1t back"
Now the carpenter was pushed aside by
a man who could guess. This man was
able to win three times out Of five.
Seeing that the game could be beaten a
merchant from Denver put down ten, tired
again and lost Crumplrg fifty collar
bill in his left hand the merchant watched
the two half shells for moment and then
made grab Turn ,it over, turn it over"
he demanded, eXcitedly, dropping the crum-
pied bill Tom turned it over but there
was nothing in it-Eothing ior the mer-
chant.
why didn't you turn it yo'se'f?" said 6
man with a southern accenband full black
beard, that fellow'sna shark
The merchant glanced at his questioner,
fished another bill and watched the shells.
Suddenly he nailed one of them. Take yo
Looks off that she'll" said the dark man to
Tom land let the gentleman turn it over"
Il don't see any money" said Trouble
some Tom .r.D- s..
There's my money" said the merchant,
dropping the bill,
You bet fifty?' HiF
81 bet the bill" answered the merchant
Now the shell-man moved his hand from
the shell and allowed it to hover over the
new note.
The man turned the SHE'LL slowly, but the
pea was not there. Even as he turned 1t
Toms velvet fingers closed on the one-hun-
dred- dollar bill
Now this same man with the Georgia pro-
nunctation came from behind the pine bar
and spoke to me. He had no whiskers, but
| could swear that this was the man that
had helped the merchant play off the hun
dIed.
"Yo' tn a'tst that's goin' to staht the
daily papah. eh?'
Yes" 1 answered, and as my eyes wan
dered over the faces of the company my
mind went back to Denver Goodbye"
Colonel Atkins of the News had said;
when you come back you'll be wearing a
wooden overcoat." There was something
in ths air of this place that recalled the
colonerS prophecy
Coin to make wah' on the gamblahs? ?"
asked the dark man.
Not for gambling"
What TO-, then?'
Sand bags, six shooters and Masks" was
the reply.
We'll. sch, if that's yo gait we can gall
lop in the same heat" said he, enthusias-
tically offering me his hand. MY name is
Smith-Soapy Smith-an' when yo' In trou-
ble say so an I'll help yo'."
That is the way we became acquainted.
Later, when Bob Ford, the slayer of Jesse
James, got gay and shot up the town, caus
ing John r. Spears to jump into the dormi-
tory Of thu Beebe House and frighten the
servant girls almost to death, the Chronicle
roasted Ford Ford said he would go kill
conduct, Hartigan. the city editor. for
printing it, and the editor for running such
a paper. Now came Soapy of his own mo-
ton. standing for the editor. who was un-
armed, and the desperado was aWed into
quiet.
And that is the way they became friends.
:, Gambler Joe Simmens, one of Soapy's
working men," died suddenly two days be-
III IHc Ills ISSUE OF the CHTOnCle, ana
Soapy gave him a big funeral. Standing at
the open grave, he opened champagne, pour
ing some into the grave, and drank some.
saying as he did so Here's to Joe's soul
over there, II there is any over there" and
passed the bottle to his next friend
The description of that funeral, which
aartiean wrote for the first issue, gave the
chronicle start and made it welcome at
tne eXchange table before it was two days
oio It's q mistake to assume that gam
piers DO no good. Joe SimmenS helped make
the Chronicle. d4
One day man came over from Chalk
creek to burn a lot of money that he had
Just received for a group of claims. At
Susk when he entered the Chronicle Office
nis trousers were stuffed like the trousers
OF foot ball player-stufred with money.
Ills race was flushed and his eyes dancing.
ne was miner by profession. a gambler
Dy instinct and a deep drinker. He told
Ianer frankly that he had expected re-
porter would find him out at the hotel, but
seeing the paper was shy ON enterprise he
Had come in to give up the news of the
SnaiK Greek district. He limited that see
ing ms name repe ated In the paper would
heip MIN over at the new camp where he
was was mayor, mayor magistrate, postmaster and no
tary public. IF that likeness could go on
the frst page" he said sliding a photo