The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1900-10-12
WHAT Is CALLED LUCK.
0pe.half of q Small Grub Stake Re
turned $4,000,

II don't believe in luck" said q man
from California at one Of the hotels, "but
there does seem to be q case now and
then In which fortune actually chases
down some fool, grabs him by the hair
and in spite of his shrieks and struggles
fills his pockets full Of gold. The west
II full Of instances of that kind, but the
most remarkable that ever came under
my observation occurred at Frisco about
six months ago. When the Klondiks
craze first started In 1893, to tell you
the story briefly, veteran prospector
named Peterson drifted into the city
looking for somebody who might grub
stake him to try his luck In Alaska.
"At last a tobaccouist whom he knew
slightly agreed to stand half the ex.
pepse and gave him q note to Q race
horse man asking him to contribute the
balance. Peterson found the turtman In
a gambling house half tipsy and playing
roulette. He read the note, pushed Q
$40 stack Of chips on the board and said,
III play these for you, and If / can win
your stake with 'em you can have It By
q remarkable coincidence he won three
or four straight bets, ran the chips up
to $500 and gave the miner the money.
The tobacconist put up 5000 more, and
Peterson left on the next ship for st.
MichaePs. He was soon in the Dawson
district, suffered the usual vicissitudes
of the gold hunters in that region and
finally, just as he was about to give up
in despair, located q couple Of good
claims at the head of Anvil creek, one
for himself and one for his 'stakers.' He
developed his own prospect during the
following summer, got $4,000 out Of it
in dust and sold the other for $4,000
cash. Then his health broke down, and
last spring he returned home.
Meanwhile things had gone badly with
his patrons. The tobacconist died sud-
denly in the fall Of 1898, his share in the
stake going by custom to his associate,
but the horseman had long since forgot
ten the whole affair, II, indeed, he ever
remembered it after he got sober. He
had plenty of other things to occupy
him in the shape of a sequence Of hard
luck that eventually cleaned him out and
left him fiat broke. l know personally
he was without the price Of a meal half
the time during the winter of 1S99-19OO,
and that was about his condition when
Peterson struck Frisco in the spring.
1.-THE prospector first inquired for his
friend, the tobacco man, and, learning
he was dead, started out to hunt up the
other partner. 1t was no easy job, for
the broken sport owed everybody he
knew and was lying low to avoid duns.
Peterson, who had never seen him but
that one night at the gambling house,
had very indistinct recollection of his
features and actually passed him sew
eral times without recognizing him.
Finally the man was pointed out in q bar.
Are you Mr.. p asked the miner. NO,
I'm not said the other, thinking the
stranger wanted money. Aren't you
the man that staked me one evening in
1882 persisted Peterson and related tile
circumstance. oh, yes said the turf
man impatiently. you're that klondike
lunatic! If you want another stake,
you've struck the wrong shop
"Then Peterson got mad. 'Confound
your ugly picturev he said. I don't
want anything from you except a receipt
for $4,000! Here's the money The
poor sport was so amazed he came near
fainting dead away. When he got the
facts through his head, he ran out and
danced jig in the middle of the street
and yelled 'Gloryp 80 loud you could
hear him half way to Sacramento. The
money put him on his feet, and he is do
ing we'll at present. Peterson has re-
turned to Dawson City. A version Of
the story has been told in print, but it
was badly garbled. The facts are exact
ly as l have given them."-New Orleans
Times-Democrat.