430 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[June 3, 1905. 
Floating Down the Mississippi. 
A Grafting Combine. 
I DECIDED to pull out On Monday morning, we having 
arrived at Modoc Saturday afternoon., Monday proved 
to be a chill, windy day, but not so bad but that I could 
make way against the waves and wind. With my duffle 
on board, I dropped down stream, close to the bank 
where I would be sheltered as much as possible. Five 
miles down stream. I came to a number of cabin boats 
tied to the bank. Woods were all I could see on the 
bank, and I regarded the town with some wonder. , I 
knew that somewhere along there was a pink boat, in 
which a daughter of Mrs. Haney lived. Charlie Brooks 
was her husband, and I wanted to see him, especially, for 
he could tell me about the lower river if anyone could. 
One after another I passed the sterns of the boats, and 
finally spied the pink boat which I was seeking well down 
in the lower end of the fleet. As I leaned to the oars I 
was hailed, "Hello there. Spears 1" 
On turnmg my head to see who had hailed, I saw a 
broad, smiling face which was at first sight familiar but 
unplaceable. He knew me, and that was enough. I 
swung in to the large white-and-red boat and clambered 
aboard. He was the Medicine Man, and his partner was 
the Gambler. They were a precious pair whom I had met 
far up the river, and they promptly invited me to stay a 
while. 
"We've got a bit of graft here," the Gambler remarked. 
"We begun to get short of money, so I rigged up a table, 
and we're running a poker game at night. You want to 
stay a while, and you'll see enough sights to fill that note 
book you were keeping when we seen you up the river." , 
Sure enough, it was the gambling boat of a floating 
population to which I had been invited, and without 
more ado, I hoisted my duflle on board, and sat down 
to hear what the boys had beeti up tO' since I met them 
three hundred miles up the river. They'd been selling 
medicine, buying junk, gathering hickory nuts, running 
a show boat, and had variously disported themselves. 
They were so glad to see me that the Gambler took down 
a violin and the Medicine Man picked up a banjo, and 
both played in unison — jig, song, waltz, two-step, rag- 
time and a snatch of an interlude which the Gambler 
learned when he was first fiddle to an Indian Territory 
opera company. Each of them had a natural taste for music, 
and a trace of sweetness was noticeable in the undertone 
and second thoughts of their "pieces." Perhaps one 
could travel a long ways and not hear anything quite like 
what I heard that afternoon. With the tones of the 
stringed instruments was the gurgling chuckle of the 
river water around the boat. 
There was something in the demeanor of the men 
Avhich was exceedingly startling at times. The musical 
impulse carried flashes across the Gambler's countenance 
which were chilling to contemplate. . The Gambler's chin 
was two-pointed and narrow. His eyes were alternately 
either wide open and starting, or they were half closed 
and sunken. His face was very dark, sun-dried and wind- 
worn, his mustache was black, his eyes were a dull turtle 
brown. I compared his cordiality to that of a pet snake. 
The Medicine Man had one characteristic that was 
unforgetable. This was his smile. He was a short, ro- 
tund man with a smooth face and dark eyes, hair and 
complexion. His hair was growing gray over his tem- 
ples — his lips were a trifle thick, and wide spreading, as 
though about to break into beaming smiles at any mo- 
ment. It was by his smile that I recalled the circum- 
stances of our first meeting. He was on the cabin boat, 
and welcomed me as a break in the monotony of days 
tied to a shelving bank not far below Cairo. He had 
been trading medicine for flour, chickens and eggs, while 
his partner cooked and cared for the boat. The partner 
-and he were contented in the life on the river. Peddling 
medicine was not difficult, there was plenty to eat and 
they had not been together long enough to be troubled 
by their various eccentricities. 
I settled down to live their kind of life, and understand 
it if I could. Mj^ first glimpse of the boat, with its newly 
rigged poker table, showed that what I had seen on the 
old fisherman's boat, and on Mrs. Haney's were only 
faint impressions of the whole river life scenes. In the 
floor of this cabin boat were a couple of bullet holes; 
the violin, the guitar and the banjo were most sugges- 
tive, and the two men themselves — I asked one during a 
pause, due to a string out of tune: "What are you doing 
now, boys ?" 
"Grafting — like we always done," the Medicine Man 
laughed, starting in a cheerful jig dance tune. 
Heretofore my river associates had been almost exclu- 
sively men who^ worked, at least part of the time. Even 
Pierce and his son followed "electric goods peddling" 
merely as a side issue, and would do a job of carpenter 
work on occasion. Perhaps they had in mind "easy liv- 
ings," but they 'were workers. The Medicine Man and 
the Gambler avowed themselves to be grafters, and noth- 
ing more. 
They said they had been doing everything, and every- 
body. They laughed with glee over a. hickorynut specu- 
lation into which they had entered. "We picked up about 
fifteen bushels of them — most broke our backs. When 
we got to Memphis we carried two sackfuls weigh- 
ing a hundred a piece all over the bloody city, and got 
about a dollar an' seven cents for 'em, Hueh ! But we're 
.eating the rest," ' ' ■ - ' • ' ' . 
"You just ought to been with us, coming down. We 
had a fellow on board who was a reg'lar bummer. But 
he could play the violin till it talked — sliding notes and 
air that sort of thing. He wasn't good for anything else, 
but we kept him just to play. We had a couple of shows 
— singing and playing, and the Gambler gave a Punch 
and Judy show — it was a corker. The cuss kept us drunk 
most of the time. But he was plumb amusing for a time. 
One day we cut loose from New Madrid, aiming to run 
a whiskey boat. We had ten jugs of whiskey on board 
and a couple of cans of wine and some sweet cider. First 
one would drink and then another; when we come to 
there was some kind soul who had ketched our boat 
and tied us in at Carruthersville. You never see any- 
thing like that boat was for three days after that. We'd 
drank all the whiskey, eat all the' grub and there wasn't 
a dollar on board. I went up the bank — had an awful 
headache— carried my grip and some medicine and went 
to work. I got four or five dollars and bought some flour 
and meat, but we couldn't eat. Say ! we cussed one an- 
other, I tell you. I went up the bank after some more 
money — wanted some seltzer and soda for biscuit. When 
I come back the boat was gone, and I had to steal a skiff 
and . follow those fellows down stream thirty miles, and 
that at night. Oh, this trip's been a time, I tell you." 
i went over to Brooks' boat after a time and found Mr. 
and Mrs. Brooks there. Mrs. Brooks was a tall, slender 
woman, whose face was weather-beaten, and her chin 
the equivalent of a fist. The Medicine Man volunteered 
the opinion later that Mrs. Brooks would set her hus- 
band on the bank some day. The boat and other things 
on board were in her name, it was said. It was a pret- 
tily furnished craft, not at all in harmony with the 
atrocious pink exterior. The floor was clean, the living 
room was carpeted, and lace curtains swung from the 
windows. The stove, a small one, was neatly blacked, 
the chairs, including large rockers, were comfortable, and 
the groceries were well chosen, apparently for trade was 
steady. ■ . 
Because "everybody" had been on a spree the previous 
night, the gambling crowd did not appear on the night 
of the day I arrived. Several of them had been cleaned 
out, and couldn't play anyhow, but on Tuesday night, 
Jan. 26, the bunch appeared. They were workers in a new 
sawmill half a mile back in the woods from Hughey's 
landing, where we were tied. They arrived just before 
dark, but a man had preceded them — a wiry, broad- 
brimmed hatted individual, who made a deal with the 
Gambler. He explained certain card tricks which he 
knew, and showed that he could read the backs of the 
cards as a common player could read the faces. His 
pack was carefully marked, and he handed it to the 
Gambler for use that night. The two agreed to whack 
up even on the proceeds of the evening game, and agreed 
upon a system of signals for service in certain contin- 
gencies. It was as cold-blooded a deal as one could wish, 
and the Gambler explained afterward that Causey, the 
visitor, was a good man to do business with — he knew 
the cards so well. 
The gang came in in bunches of two or three until 
twenty odd were on the boat. The gathering was a 
markedly typical one of the river swamp sawmills. The 
boss was there, a shrewd, keen-eyed man, who went home 
without playing. The chief sawyer sat down to the table 
and kept the backs of his cards iDuried in his hands. The 
bookkeeper and secretary sprawled his cards on the table, 
backs up, and bet without looking at them, "playing his 
luck." Two or three log-rollers showed their three or 
four one-dollar bills as though they were fortunes. One 
young board-handler, with his hat aslant and a swag-- 
gering gait and loud voice, played for a time. The table 
at first had what the Gambler called "cheap ones" 
around it. 
For an hour the game progressed with the two gam- 
blers itching to get the foreman down at the table. They 
"killed off" the young would-be sport in just five hands, 
so that room could be had at the table for him. But he 
hesitated, and a teamster took the chair. Then a log- 
roller was "killed off," and left the table penniless.. His 
place was taken by the sawyer, who bought his $2 worth 
of checks with money from a thirty or forty-dollar roll 
of bills. A shiver passed down Causey's lank frame and 
his eyes glinted at sight of that money. The Gambler 
squinted and, catching my eye, twitched his eyelid. I 
was sitting on a box facing a home-made barber's chair 
■ — another of the Gambler's contrivances for making 
money — writing notes on my typewriter. The Medicine 
Man was not in the game, but wandered around with his 
banjo playing snatches of tunes. He sang: 
"You men must now give up your drinking, 
Ne'er more can you go on a tear, 
.For the la.dies of late have been thinking 
Of closing all the gin mills with prayer." 
The Medicine Man appeared a little sour over the pro- 
ceedings, for which fact I could not account until later I 
learned that he was not to^ share in the profits of the 
game. He explained afterward, too, that it was a mighty 
dangerous business cheating those men. "They got guns 
a foot long on them," he said. "If they'd seen what those 
two were doing tO' them they'd a fell to- mussin' right 
away — like enough we'd got killed, too. ' I don't b'lieve 
in taking chances with that kind of men — they're bad 
when they thinks they are being imposed upon." 
It was remarkable that trouble did not ensue from the 
way the two were robbing the other playerg, Causey 
stacked the cards repeatedly and dealt hand after hand 
to his partner, who won again and again. They baited 
the man with the roll by handing out pairs and trays, 
and giving themselves hands a card higher. But his only 
response to these baits was to pass them by, and wait 
till he dealt himself, or till one of his friends in the game 
was dealer. Even then he was at a disadvantage, for 
Causey knew the cards from the back.s as well as fforh 
the faces. Once Causey had three nines and the sawyer 
two pairs. But Causey, at the draw, saw that the mart 
got an ace. He couldn't remember whether one of the 
two pairs was of aces or not, and he laid down his three 
of a kind to two kings and two queens and an ace. This 
made him lose his temper, and during the next half an 
hour he cursed himself under his breath and blundered 
in a way that allowed the secretary to win back a couple 
of dollars already lost. 
The secretary was a dark, emotional youth of about 
twenty-five years. Fie played the game as though his life 
depended on it, his face changing back and forth from a- 
sallow to a dark red. His fingers clutched at the cards 
ravenously. Once, when he won a jack-pot — a bait — he 
threw his whole body across the table and surrounded 
the little stack of chips — ten dollars worth — showing 
most plainly that he was a card victim and that gambling 
was a habit he would probably never overcome. His 
money was swept from him, dollar by dollar, and at last 
he was borrowing. Finally he rose from the table, leav- 
ing behind his last five cents and debts aggregating a 
week's salary at least. The log-rollers were kept in the 
game by the two gamblers, who feared it would break 
up before they could "kill" the sawyer. The log-rollers 
won a dollar and lost fifty cents; then they'd win a dollar 
and then lose a dollar. They were never allowed to re- 
tain more than a dollar and a half, and their last cent 
was in the chips before them on the table. 
In the meantime the Medicine Man was sent out by 
the Gambler to get something to eat. He went down to 
the Brooks store boat to get some canned stuff and 
apples. He returned with an armful, and some of the 
players ate as they played, laying their cards face down 
on the table, where Causey studied them at his leisure. 
Toward the last the checks, or chips, gravitated stead- 
ily toward Causey's pile, and one by one the players were 
"killed off." The final scene was a protracted one. The 
sawyer lost gradually but slowly. Finally his stack got 
down to two dollars, and then he drew out a wad of bills 
—perhaps $30. He stripped a five-dollar note from it and 
. put it under the chips before him. At sight of the roll 
shivers ran perceptibly through the gamblers, and they 
stiffened in their chairs and began to play for the money 
that was before their eyes. 
Then followed as remarkable a series of plays as was 
ever seen on the Mississippi. It was two card-stackers 
against an honest, thoroughbred swamp poker-player. 
Time and again Causey threw a tempting hand into the 
sawyer, yet the sawyer refused to bet against the 
Gambler, who bid him up. But when his own turn came 
the sawyer dealt and then played the hand he gave him- 
self in a square deal. Sometimes he lost on the bets he 
made then, but frequently he won. Every device the 
gamblers knew was used to get the man to bet on. a 
stacked deal but he refused. Causey bet without looking 
at his hand, without looking at the card he drew, but the 
sawyer knew the kind of a gang he was against, and 
when he finally quit at 3 o'clock in the morning he was 
only $3 behind— and that three he had lost before the 
other players were killed off, and presumably before he 
realized what was against him. 
^ After the game was over the visitors left the boat. 
Then came an episode which looked decidedly ominous, 
for the two rascals couldn't agree on the amount of 
money that had been won. The bargain had been to di- 
vide even, but there was a difference of $7 in their esti- 
mates of how much they had won. The Gambler, who 
sold the checks for the game, said that only $25 had been 
taken in, while Causey was sure thafe at least $35 had 
been won. I watched the pair as their voices began to 
rise and noted with considerable interest that Causey 
grew sullen and quiet while the Gambler quivered and 
started. Without knowi ng more about the two men than 
has been told, I could see that the Gambler was deter- 
mined to retain what he called his half of the proceeds 
of the swindling game. His dark face grew lined and 
dog-like as he argued the matter, going over the pur- 
chases of checks made by the visitors. The other flushed 
and threw his head back with a motion I remembered 
having seen in a feud-fighter of the Tennessee mountains. 
But against the Gambler Causey was at odds. The 
Gambler not only had the money but he had more nerve. 
He finally contented himself with $12.50 and went home 
to his cabin boat. He was an able card-stacker, but he 
saw that if he pressed his claim for more of the money 
he would have to fight for it. The Gambler had a re- 
volver on him, for both men had armed carefully before 
the game began. "I don't want to beat anyone, but I 
want my share, and I'm going to have it," said the 
Gambler after the man had gone. 
On the following morning the Gambler and the Medi- 
cine Man decided that they had better pull out of the 
landing. 
"You can't tell," the Gambler remarked. "We've been 
here now going on a week. There's sheriffs down in the 
country, and them kind always wants a rake-off. I guess 
we'd better hit thC; grit." 
Jan. 27 was a fine morning, without wind or waves, 
£ind the w^ater was like g'ass. Birds sang a|opg the rivef 
