ng at that time, that most of
the hotels had games, but they were private. We took a drink or
two together, and he again remarked that he would like a game. I
invited him to my room, and we had a nice, square game from that
time until morning. I won $900 from him, and as he was about broke
I invited him to take breakfast with me. After we had finished
breakfast and were smoking our cigars he began to kick. I told
him if he was that kind of a man I would never play with him any
more. I left him and went to bed. I got up in the afternoon and
went out on the street, when I saw my poker friend in company with
Detective Steve Mead. Then I knew he was a kicker, sure enough.
Mead told me the chief wanted to see me, so we started for his
office. On our way up Central Avenue we stopped to get a drink.
I thought I could trust the good-looking barkeeper, so I just threw
a roll over behind the counter, and was then ready to see his Honor.
The chief asked me if I won the man's money. I told him I did.
"But," said Chief Woods, "he said you cheated him."
I replied: "Why, chief, how could I, a man that knows but very
little about cards, cheat an old gambler like this fellow?"
"I'm no gambler," replied the kicker.
The chief asked Mead what he had learned, and he said:
"They were playing a square game of poker."
"That settles it," said the chief.
So I walked out and down to where I had left my roll. The good-
looking young man handed it over, and since then I have always
thought Billy Gruber was an honest man and deserved to own two of
the finest saloons in the Queen City.
A COWARD.
While in Chicago playing the bank one day I had some angry words
with a fellow by the name of John Lawler, and I slapped him in the
face. He did not resent it, but went out. About 2 o'clock in the
afternoon I cashed in my checks and started to my room. I was
walking down Clark Street, and was near the corner of Madison, when
this fellow Lawler stepped out and began firing at me. The first
shot would have hit me in the breast if I had not thrown up my arm;
as it was, it struck me on the wristbone and ran up my arm near
the shoulder. After the coward fired he began running backward,
and kept it up until he had fired all six shots. I had nothing
but a little cane, but I started after him, and just as he fired
the last shot I struck him with my good arm and downed him. I was
onto him, and was just getting that old head of
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