"Yes, it do interfere with their game," said Bill Cochran, the deputy
sheriff from Tom Freeman's office. He cut himself a slice of chewing
tobacco and glanced meditatively out of the window of the Dearborn Street
bastile. Whereat he repeated with gentle emphasis, "It do."
A long rain was leaning against the walls of the county jail. A dismal
yellowish gloom drifted up and down the street. Deputy Cochran, with an
effort, detached his eye from the lugubrious scene of the rain and the
day-dark and spoke up brightly.
"But at that," said he, "I don't think their being doomed for to hang can
be held entirely responsible for their losing. You see, I've made quite a
study of the game o' rhummy, not to mention pinochle and other such games
of chance, and if I do say so myself I doubt there's the man in Chicago,
doomed for to hang or otherwise, who would find me an easy mark. Still, as
I say, in the case of these gentlemen who you refer to--to wit, the doomed
men as I have acted as death watch for--it do interfere with their game.
There's no denying that."
* * * * *
Now the rain chattered darkly on the grated windows of the Dearborn Street
bastile and Deputy Cochran tilted back in his chair and thought pensively
and in silence of life and death and high, low, jack and the game.
"They pick me out for the death watch on account I have a way with doomed
men," he remarked at last, his voice modestly self-conscious. "Some of the
deputies is inclined to get a bit sad, you know. Or to let their nerves go
away with them. But me, I feel as the best thing to do in the crisis to
which I refer is to make the best of it.
"So when I sit in on the death watch I faces myself with the truth. I says
to myself right away: 'Bill, this young feller here is to be hanged by the
neck until dead, in a few hours. Which being the case, there's no use
wasting any more time or thought on the matter.' So after this
self-communication, I usually says to the young feller under observation
by the death watch, 'Cheerio, m'lad. Is there anything in particular as
you'd like to discuss.'
"I was a bit thick with the Abyssinian prince, Grover Redding, you recall.
The man spent the whole time we were with him praying at the top of his
voice and singing hymns. Not that I begrudged the fellow this privilege.
But if you've ever heard a man who's going to be hanged in a few hours try
to pass the time in continual prayers shouted at the top of his voice
you'll understand our predicament.
"Then there was Antonio Lopez. I was death watch on him and a difficult
task that was. The lad kept up his pretense that he fancied himself a
rooster to the very end. He crouched on the chair on his feet and flapped
his elbows like as they were wings and emitted rooster calls all night
long. I tried to dissuade him and offered to play him any game he wished
for any stake. But the only way he could reconcile himself to the
approaching fatal dawn was to crow like a rooster. I thought to cheer him
up toward the end by congratulating him on his excellent imitations, as I
bore him no ill will despite he gave us all a terrible headache before the
death march took him away."
* * * * *
Now the rain dropped in long, quick lines outside the window and the
pavements below glowed like dark mirrors. Deputy Cochran, however, had
become oblivious to the scene. His eyes withdrew themselves from the
rain-dark and casually traced themselves over the memories his calling had
left him.
"There was Blacky Weed some years ago," he went on. "And Viana, the choir
boy. And to come down to more recent incidents, Harry Ward, the 'Lone
Wolf.' I played cards with them all and can truthfully say I won most of
the games played to which I refer, with the exception of those played with
the 'Lone Wolf,' hanged recently, if you recall.
"I will say that the chief trouble with the doomed men as I have engaged
in games of chance with is their inability to concentrate. Now cards, to
be properly played, requires above all a gift of the ability to
concentrate. Recognizing this I have always refused to play for money with
the doomed as I have been watch over, saying to them when they pressed the
matter, 'No, m'lad. Let's make it just a sociable game for the fun there's
in it rather than play for money.'
"There are others not so scrupulous," hinted Deputy Cochran. "Take for
instance, the example of the newspaper man as was Eddie Brislane's friend
and comforter. He was with him in the cell most of the time before the
hanging, and two days before the aforesaid he paid Brislane $50 for a
story to be printed exclusively in his paper. Then this newspaper man,
which I consider unethical under the circumstances, played Brislane poker,
and what with the doomed man's lack of concentration and his inability to
take advantage of the turns of the game, therefore, this newspaper man won
back his $50 and some few dollars besides.
"As for me, I doubt whether all my card playing with these doomed men,
successful though it has been, has ever brought me as much as a half
dollar. No, as I said, sociability is the object of these games and all I
aim for is to put the doomed man at his ease for the time being."
* * * * *
Deputy Cochian suddenly smiled, although before an impersonal air had
marked his discourse.
"There was the 'Lone Wolf,' as I mentioned," he continued. "A cold-blooded
feller and a sinner to the end. But he was the best rhummy player as I
have ever had the pleasure of matching skill with. Yes, sir, it was his
ability for to concentrate. As I said, that is, the prime ability
necessary and the 'Lone Wolf' had more concentration than any one I have
matched skill with in or out of the jail.
"That was an interesting evening we spent on the death watch for the 'Lone
Wolf.' He regaled us for an hour or so telling us how he used to steal
motor cars. Yes, sir, whenever the 'Lone Wolf' wanted a new car he just
went out and took it. A cold-blooded feller, as I say.
"Then he asked if I would mind playing him a game of rhummy and I
answered, 'No, Harry. As you are aware, I am here to oblige. So we got out
the deck and Harry insisted upon gambling. 'Make it a dollar a hand,' he
said. But I would listen to none of that. We played eight games in all and
he beat me six of them. Perhaps I was not at my best that night. But I
never played against such a cold-blooded feller. He took a positive joy in
winning his games and on the whole acted like a bum winner, making the
most of his unusual good luck. I hold no grudge for that, however. But I
feel that if we could have continued the play some other time I'd easily
have finished him off."
Now the sun was slowly recovering its place and the rain had become a
light mist. Deputy Cochran seemed to regard this as a signal for a
conclusion.
"Summing the matter all up, pro and con," he offered, "it do interfere
with their game a lot. But I lay this to the fact that they all fancy
they're going to be reprieved and they keep waiting and listening for an
announcement which will save them from the gallows. I've known some of
them to lead a deuce thinking it was an ace and vice versa. But at that I
can fully recommend a good, sociable game of cards as the best way for a
doomed man to pass the few hours before the arrival of the fatal moment."