In the flush days of gambling on the Mississippi I used to take
everything. If a man did not have the money, I would not refuse
diamonds or a stock of goods. On one occasion, when I was going
from Memphis to Cairo on the _Belle of Memphis_, a little game was
started, and I won ten first-class mules. A bill of sale was drawn
up, but when I went to land the mules at Cairo, the former owner
began to kick, so I had them transferred to another boat that was
lying alongside of us, and bound for St. Louis. The man hated to
part with his mules, and went down pawing and clamoring among them
until one of them gave him a severe kick which nearly proved fatal.
At last they doctored him up so he could talk. We were then _en
route_ for St. Louis, but I was too smart to take them there, so
I disembarked at Cape Girardeau, and sold the mules at a reduced
price, for what did a gambler want with a pack of hungry mules
trailing around after him anyhow?