ng faro bank, red and black, old monte,
and anything else that came up. I had a partner at the beginning
by the name of John Bull, of Chicago, and he was a good, clever
boy. He dealt faro, and I the red and black. We separated at
Jackson, Mich., he going to Chicago and I to Cleveland, where I
witnessed the great race between "Goldsmith Maid" and the horse
"Smuggler," on which I lost some money; but I had a good game of
red and black, so I was about even. I then concluded I would follow
the trotters through the circuit. While sitting at the hotel one
day in Cleveland I saw on the opposite side of the street a face
and form that I thought I recognized. I ran over, and sure enough
it was my old partner, Canada Bill, and with him another great
capper by the name of Dutch Charlie. I was more than glad to see
Bill, and he was very glad to see me. He wanted me to tell him
where I had been, what I had been doing, and where I was going,
and would up by saying:

"George, let's go and get something."

We soon found a bar-room, and began telling each other all that
had happened since we were last together. I told Bill I had about
made up my mind to follow the horses through the circuit. He told
me that he and Charlie were going to do the same thing, and insisted
that I should join, allowing as "how we three would make a good,
strong team." I agreed. So it was settled we would all work
together. While we were talking a slick-looking fellow, who I took
to be a store clerk, walked in, and Bill invited him to take a
drink, which he did, and I was introduced to Mason Long, who now
styles himself "the converted gambler." Bill, Charlie, and I left
Cleveland and went to Buffalo, but the night we left we had downed
a sucker for $1,300, and thought best not to wait for morning.

We caught some good ones on the trip over, and they set up a great
big kick. They telegraphed a description of Bill to Buffalo, so
we got him to get off before we reached the city, telling him where
to meet Charlie and myself the next day. We went on to the city
and waited for Bill to show up, which he did the next night. He
was too smart to come in by rail, so he got a man to drive him in.

We kept him in his hotel for a few days, until we thought the
kickers that we had beat out of $2,100 had left the city. Then we
made him dress up in store clothes, which he did not like a bit,
saying:

"I don't feel good in the tarnal stuff things, nohow.