The mirror. (Stillwater, Minn.) 1894-1925, 1910-03-03
Story Of a
Moocher

l
Rattle of the Chips Was
Merry Music.
"If any of you sports ever take as
much a. the value of a white chip from
Edgar you will have me to settle WITH"
said old Bill Clifford as he slid into the
iookout's chair at Number One Layout
in the Deerhorn's gambling room.
"What's up now, Bill asked Fifteen
two, as he showed the buttons together
on the case rack.
But before Bill could answer the Sal
vation army which had stopped on the
edge of the sidewalk broke loose with
it's usual nightly serenade of the Palace
of Iniqulty within; and while the sere-
made is going on we will digress with
bit of rhapsody for the enlightenment
of the initiated who may read this
little tale.
Porphyry Avenue, themain thorough
fare of Pixies Peak City was ablaze
with light, and the lettering crowds of
fortune seekers from every land throng.
ed the sidewalks while the busy people
walked in the middle of the street
otherwise they wonld have never reach
ed their destination.
1t was one of those Summer nights
in the mountains when it seems good
just merely to be alive; when tie way
farer's heart warns toward his fellows
aud the clink of gold and the glitter of
wealth are for the time being forgot
ten; SO the gambling rooms were nearly
vacant and the cards and chips were
Idle.
Every other door in Porphyry Avenue
was the entrance to a saloon with
several kinds of gambling devices in
the rear; while every other man you
met was gambler, or hangeron and
every other woman in sight was an
adventures.
Edgar Wilson, young Englishman
who had just landed i'll the camp, was
the person whom Old Bill referred to-
Edgar had met Bill at the Palace Hotel
where they both took their meals and
for some unaccountable reason Edgar
had warmed up to the old gambler like
he was his long lost uncle and old Bill
had taken the young man under hi'
wing in sort of parental way that wa'
rather amusing to Bills associates. L
was PROBABLY because Edgar was sucl
wholesome, clean, young chap tina
taciturn Old Bill Clifford seemed t.
show fOndness for him. He wa
Just the antithesis of BilI's othe
friends, and who knows, maybe it was
white spot in the gamblers life, and h
cherished it; but the music has stoppe'
and the coins are being tossed on to tn
big drum head, so we will 60 on wit
the tale:
"Say, Bill! What's Chappy been u
to nowY" drawled Hungry Willrn
when silence again prevailed in tn
room.
"I've seen something this evenin
which convinces me that it's sin an
a crime for any of you sports to tampe
with Edgar's money, and Pm TIE lool
out in his game" was the reply frol
Bill, as he crossed his legs and straigh
ened himself around so as to face tt
others.
"I guess every man in this tow
knows the Moocher," Bill continue
''and up to half past seven this evenlI
guess there wasn't but one man in I'll
town whom he hadn't touched for
piece of money and at thirty-tive mi
utes past seven, even that one h.;
gone through the experiences.
GAS usual Edgar and ate supper
gether at the Palace" continued Bi
with his explanation, sand as we car
ont from the dining room we saunte
ed into the bar for smoke. VIII
there turned aside for few minut
to speak to q friend and left Edg
alone. When looked around agair
found that he aud the Moocher we
engaged In an earnest conversation, g