The Washington herald., 1907-03-17

George Nl1gnelu lS the new bonanza
king of Nevada He Is really pICJur-
esGue character Five years ago he was a
penniless cowboy, occasionally varying his
occupation By dealing faro and tending
roulet wheels The son Of a sheepherder
and cattleman, he had been brought UP in
rugged places and readily fell into the
ways of rugged people writes Barton ".
Currie in the New York Evening Post In
Goldheld. where Wing6eld is revered both
for his wealth and adroltness with a gun,
men whisper in your ear, pointing out the
quiet, taeiturn young man, that he was
bad man" at the age Of fifteen; that If
nOtching weapons were a modern custom,
the hilts OF his personal ordnance would
be cut away. He is only twenty-nine
years old, and there is no doubt OF his
prOwess. His reputation as a gunfght-
er extends all the way from Reno TO
Bullfrog, and he is known with respect
IN many little ranch towns in Washoe
County and along the foothills Of the Cal
ifornia Sierras.
The sun-scorched, alkali-coated desert
OF Nevada. however. did not spontaneous
ly yield any Aladdin treasure to George
WIngfeld upon a ''shoestring" investment
any more than Death Valley opened a
King Solomon mine to the notorious
''Scotty." Wingfeld's wonderful lamp
was first lighted on poker table I'm Reno.
He began there with an unusual run OF
luck and, drifting to the desert. he had
even more unusual success in breaking
the bank" OF the TOnopah club, which he
now owns. It is one of the largest gam
bling establishments IN the West After
acquiring the club" Wingfeld tempted
no more this rough-paved range Of for
tune The tiger he vanquished has
tol.ed for him ever since, and his annual
profit from. the tables is said TO be S20o, 600
a year. His mines yield him a far greater
sum. Conservative folk IN Goldheld say
he has accumulated I'm the past five years
about Sl5,oo0C0o This is the story as I
drew il from several different and pre-
sumably authentic sources:
went Broke at Reno.
Five years ago a middle-sized young
man of twenty-four rode into Reno on a
brown pinto. He had come down from a
Washoe County ranch for a flyer" after
three months of cow-punchlng and cattle
herding. Broad-shouldered and we'I-knit,
with severe features and steady eyes that
glared incisively at every object worthy
of notice. he had all the necessary char
acteristics OF even a Bret Harte bad
man." Saloon men and gamblers referred
10 him as a bad boy TO tackle" Con
sequently the majority of his encounters
were with needless roisterers or profes-
sional gamblers, who did rot know his
fame as faro dealer and poker player
He arrived in Reno with three months
cowboy wages as ammunition for his
flyer" It was early in spring, and this
thriving town on the northern rim Of the
desert bTistled with activity. Prospecting
parties were fitting out in the rush for
the new camps in the south. There were
the usual throngs Of cattlemen and
sprinklinS Of San FTanciscans. who We're
interested In a mercantile way in the de-
velopmcnt of the new communities.
Wingheld had been working out a sys-
TEN dead sure" TO beat the rouIet wheel
He had always a weakness for systems
until he was finally made Then his dis
position changed and he laughed at the
systems" Of others that were wrecked
on the shoals of the TOnopah club. His
had met The same fate at reno. The little
with sardonic chuckIes aid chortles over
the sure numbers, until at last the
young systematzer' strobe forth from
the palace into the crisp mOOnshine Of a
Nevada night-"dead broke" de was
standing upon the edge Of the pavement
gazing gloOmily across the railroad tracks
when his eye fell on familiar figure and
pose. 1t was United States Senator
George S. Nixon, who was enjoying a
solitary stroll, and the Senator read the
story at a glance. dropped into the young
mans pocket a handful Of gold, and ad-
vised: TRY another game. George. and
perhaps your star may slip into a hap
pier mansion The pair had met casually
only half dozen times, when Senator
Nixon did small banking business at
Hawthorne. On one occasion before the
politician had staked the gunhghter
When His Luck Changed.
4 few moments later Wingfeld dropped /
into a sixth chair. completing a circle /
about bare pine table that was clut- /
tered with little mounds of chips, drifts
Of gold and silver. He transferred his |
entire stake to the bank and got into the /
game with the grim determination of
again breaking or making. \ white-haired /
little man. with perennially young face, /
Notwithstanding the creases about his /
eyes and the deep crow s-foot and three /
bars across his forehead. told me the
story Of that game as he polished the long
bar In the Dizzy Ghost saloon at Bull /
frog. He had sat in; had been IN It for /
hours, and could scarcely see over his I
heap Of winnings when the young cattle /
man skinned" the cards of the first hand /
dealt TO him
1T was bad enough" related the ven /
cradle mixer, for him 90 begin with four I
deuces pat, against two fun houses aud /
a blooming peOny of hearts. ace high But 4
10 catch family after family Of court I
cards and MI in for fifteen deals running /
was certainly Eldorado luck with the
brakes on He sat through sky-pot after |
sky-pOt, an unblinking idol and when 1
dawn began TO spot the curtains. I spun /
in my last four-bit chip for a showdown /
Ed Sykes and Bill MCGUIRE the two orn- /
criest poker players Of Hawthorne. were /
trimmed down to their belt buckles 4
Wingield had shot the whole table fun 4
of zero. frozen US all 20 a cold quit
"Of course we were sore AT being trim /
med by mere boy from q WashOe Coun- /
~ ranch, but no one showed an inclina- /
tiOn &c get fussy. George never turned n 1
trick in all his life that wasn't 5n the |
square. Yes. there were some at the table 4
who occasionally relied more on their a.
tilieTy than on any mere run of the cards.
but they were wise They knew they were /
babies compared TO the kid cowboy when
Il came to gun play All we could do was
10. choke over our smiles and congratulate
him On his Jumbo rush Of luck We've
been doing that ever since. Now he's the
richest man I'm the Sta.e, and little more
than turned man at that. I'm an old |
dodger, been in mines and prospecting for
half a century. I've had many a fine dash