"'It's mebby six weeks followin' them declarations of the Purple
Blossom. It's co't day at War-whoop Crossin', an' the Jedge an'
every law-sharp on that circuit comes trailin' into camp. This yere
outfit of Warwhoop is speshul fretful ag'inst all forms of gamblin'.
Wherefore the Jedge, an' the state's attorney, an' mebby five other
speculators, at night adjourns to the cabin of a flat-boat which is
tied up at the foot of the levee, so's they can divert themse'fs
with a little draw-poker without shockin' the hamlet an' gettin'
themse'fs arrested an' fined some.
"'It's gone to about fourth drink time after supper, an' I'm
romancin' about, tryin' to figger out how I'm to win Polly, when as
I'm waltzin' along the levee--I'm plumb alone, an' the town itse'f
has turned into its blankets--I gets sight of this yere poker
festival ragin' in the cabin. Thar they be, antein', goin' it blind,
straddlin', raisin' before the draw, bluffin', an' bettin', an'
havin' the time of their c'reers.
"'It's the spring flood, an' the old Cumberland is bank-full an'
still a-risin'. The flat boat is softly raisin' an' fallin' on the
sobbin' tide. It's then them jocular impulses seizes me, that a-way;
an' I stoops an' casts off her one line, an' that flat boat swims
silently away on the bosom of the river. The sports inside knows
nothin' an' guesses less, an' their gayety swells on without a
hitch.
"'It's three o'clock an' Jedge Finn, who's won about a hundred an'
sixty dollars, realizes it's all the money in the outfit, an' gets
cold feet plenty prompt. He murmurs somethin' about tellin' the old
lady Finn he'd be in early, an' shoves back amidst the scoffs an'
jeers of the losers. But the good old Jedge don't mind, an' openin'
the door, he goes out into the night an' the dark, an' carefully
picks his way overboard into forty foot of water. The yell the Jedge
emits as he makes his little hole in the Cumberland is the first
news them kyard sharps gets that they're afloat a whole lot.
"'It ain't no push-over rescooin' Jedge Finn that time. The one
hundred an' sixty is in Mexican money, an' he's got a pound or two
of it sinkered about his old frame in every pocket; so he goes to
the bottom like a kag of nails.
"'But they works hard, an' at last fishes him out, an' rolls him
over a bar'l to get the water an' the money outen him. Which onder
sech treatment, the Jedge disgorges both, an' at last comes to a
trifle an' is fed whiskey with a spoon.
"'Havin' saved the Jedge, the others turns loose a volley of yells
that shorely scares up them echoes far an' wide. It wakes up a
little old tug that's tied in Dead Nigger Bend, an' she fires up an'
pushes forth to their relief. The tug hauls 'em back to Warwhoop for
seventy dollars, which is paid out of the rescooed treasure of Jedge
Finn, the same bein' declar'd salvage by them bandits he's been
playin' with.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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