Before the war they had an old steamer fitted up as a wharf-boat
and lodging-house at Baton Rouge, to accommodate people that landed
late at night, or would be waiting for a boat. This old boat was
headquarters for the gamblers that ran the river. Many a night we
have played cards in the old cabin until morning, or until our boat
would arrive. When thoroughbred gamblers meet around the table at
a game of cards, then comes the tug of war. We would have some
very hard games at times, and we found it pretty hard to hold our
own. My partner proposed that we fix up some plan to down the
gamblers that played with us on the old boat, so we finally hit
upon a scheme. We bored a hole under one of the tables, and another
under one of the beds in a state-room opposite. Then we fixed a
nail into a spring, and fastened the spring on the under side of
the floor, so that the nail would come up through the floor under
the table. Next we attached a fine wire to the spring, and ran it
up into the state-room. Then we bored a hole in the bulkhead of
the state-room, just over the top berth, so that a person could
lie in the berth and look out into the cabin. Now we were ready
for the thoroughbreds. When we would get one of our smart friends,
we would seat him at our table in his chair, which was always on
the side of our state-room. We called it ours, for we had fitted
it up just to suit us; and for fear some one would use it when we
were out traveling for our health, we paid for it all the time.
We had a good boy that liked to lie down and make money, so we
would put him in the upper berth while the game was in progress.
He would look through the peep-hole, and if our friend had one pair
he would pull the wire once; if two pair, twice; if threes, three
times; if fours, four times, etc. We would kick off one boot and
put our foot over the nail, and then we would be able to tell what
hand our friend held. One day I was playing a friend at our table,
and he was seated in his chair. I got the signals all right for
some time, and then the under-current seemed to be broken. I waited
for the signals until I could not wait any longer, for I was a
little behind (time), so I picked up a spittoon and let fly at our
room. That restored communications, and I received the signals
all right. My friend wanted to know what I threw the spittoon for.
I told him the cards were running so bad that I got mad; and that
an old nigger had told me once it was a good sign to kick over a
spittoon when playing cards; so I thought I would not only kick it
over, but would break the d----d thing all to pieces. He replied,
"I noticed that your luck changed just after you threw her, and I
will try it the next time I play in bad luck."