I was on a boat coming from Memphis one night, when my partner beat
a man out of $600, playing poker. After the game broke up, the
man went into the ladies' cabin and told his wife. She ran into
his room and got his pistol, and said, "I will have that money
back, or kill the man." I saw her coming, pistol in hand, and
stepped up to the bar and told the barkeeper to hand me that old
gun he had in the drawer, which I knew had no loads in it. She
came on, frothing at the mouth, with blood in her eyes. I saw she
was very much excited, and I said to her: "Madame, you are perfectly
right. You would do right in shooting that fellow, for he is
nothing but a gambler. I don't believe your pistol will go off;
you had better take my pistol, for I am a government detective,
and have to keep the best of arms." So I handed her the pistol,
and took hers. Just a moment later out stepped the man who had
won the money, and she bolted up to him and said: "You won my
husband's money, and I will just give you one minute to hand it to
me, or I will blow your brains out in this cabin." Well, you ought
to have seen the passengers getting out of the cabin when she pulled
down on him; but he knew the joke and stood pat, and showed what
a game fellow he was. He told the woman her husband lost the money
gambling, and he could not get a cent back. Then she let go; but
the pistol failed to go off, and he got her to go back into the
cabin, and pacified her by giving her $100. After taking the
charge out of her pistol, I returned it to her. So, reader, you
can see what a gay life there is in gambling.