Stand Pat; Or, Poker Stories from the MississippiCurtis, David A.
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Stand Pat; Or, Poker Stories from the Mississippi
Curtis, David A.
Poker players -- Fiction; Short stories, American
“Some o’ the boys was in favour o’ swingin’ him right up without
formalities, arguin’ that as long as we’d ketched him in the act, an’
there wa’n’t no doubt o’ what he was tryin’ to do, there wa’n’t no use
o’ wastin’ time on a trial, but I says, ‘No; to do that’d degrade
Arkansas City to the level o’ barbarism,’ I says, ‘or a second-class
minin’ settlement. Sich things is all right,’ I says, ‘whar ther ain’t
no civilization, nor none o’ the refinin’ influences o’ religion, but
Arkansas City ain’t no such place. Let’s hang him decent-like an’
’cordin’ to law,’ I says, ’s’long’s we’ve got it to do. An’ ther ain’t
no such thing as legal testimony,’ I says, ‘’thout it’s sworn to on the
Good Book.’
“Well, the boys was reasonable, an’ some of ’em went looking for Ike, he
havin’, as I said, th’ on’y copy o’ th’ Testament ther was in town.
’Course he wasn’t round in none o’ the saloons where he usually kept
hisself, an’ while they was a-lookin’ fer him, that pesky hoss thief
managed some ways or another to git away. When we did find Ike, he was
tryin’ to teach two Chinamen, that had just come to town an’ was in a
fair way to starve to death runnin’ a laundry, how to play poker.
‘Stands to reason,’ Ike says, when I as’t him how he come to do it,
‘that them unfortunate heathen wouldn’t never make day’s wages,’ he
says, ‘runnin’ no laundry here, so I was just puttin’ ’em in a way to
make an honest livin’ by showin’ ’em the principles o’ draw-poker.’ He
give ’em a fair start, too, as it happened, for he dropped seventeen
dollars in good American money in that little missionary enterprise o’
his’n. The boys said it was a judgment o’ heaven on him fer not bein’
where he’d oughter ha’ been, as he usually ain’t, besides bein’ a grave
reflection on Arkansas City in lettin’ that hoss thief git off. I fined
the feller the drinks that had business to’ve shot him as he ran, fer
not havin’ his gun ready, an’ just naturally he bought ’em in my place,
so I wasn’t none the loser, but it was a great public calamity. I’d most
rather he hadn’t got away.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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