River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1901-03-07
WHAT IS CALLED LUCK.
Small Grub Stake Returned
$4,000.

81 don't believe in luck" said a
man from California at one of the
hotels, ''but there does seem to be
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 is full
of instances of that kind but the
der my observation occurred at
Frisco about six months ago. When
the Klondike craze first started in
1898, 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.
SAT last a tobacconist whom he
knew slightly agreed to stand half
the expense, and gave him a note to
a race horse man asking him to con
tribute the balance. Peterson found
the turfman in gambling house,
half tipsy and playing roulette. He
read the note, pushed ten-dollar
stack of chips on the board and said:
I'll play these for you, and if I win
your stake with 'em you can have it,
BY remarkable coincidence he won
three or four straight bets, ran the
chips up to 5000 and gave the miner
the money. The tobacconist put up
5000 more, and Peterson left on the
next ship for st. Michael. 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 a couple of good
claims at the head of Anvil creek, one
for himself and one for his 'stakers.'
He developed his own prospect dur
ing 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 re-
turned home.
Meanwhile, things had gone badly
with his patrons" quotes the New
Orleans Times-Democrat. 1.-THE to-
1898, his share of the stake going by
custom to his associate, but the
horseman had long since forgotten
the whole affair, if, indeed, he ever
remembered it after he got sober.
He had plenty of other things to oc-
cupy him in the shape of hard luck
that eventually cleaned him out and
left him fiat broke. know personal
ly he was without the price of meal
half the time during the winter of
1S99-l900, and that was about his con-
dition when Peterson struck Frisco
in the spring
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 seen him but that one night
at the gambling house, had very in
distinct recollection of his features.
and actually passed him several times
without recognizing him. Finally the
man was pointed out in a bar. 'Are
you Mr.. -? 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 he
related the circumstances. oh, yes
said the turfman, impatiently, you're
that Klondike lunatic. If you want
another stake, you've struck the
wrong shop
Then Peterson got mad Con
found your ugly picturen he said. Il
don't want anything from you except
a receipt for $15,ooO Here's the
money The poor sport was so
amazed he came near fainting dead
away. When he got the facts through
his head, ne ran out and danced Jig
in the middle Of the street and yelled
Glory! 50 loud you could hear him
half way 20 Sacramento. The money
put him on his feet and he is doing
well at present. Peterson has re-
turned to Dawson City. A version Of
the story has been told in print, but
It was badly garbed. The facts are
exactly as have given them"