Captain Dan Musselman, who was running the _Belle of Memphis_ from
Memphis to Cairo, said to me one day as I got aboard his craft at
Memphis, "George, I don't want you to play that monte on this boat."
"All right," I replied, as smiling as a maid of sixteen. As we
were near Hickman, Ky., I downed a fellow in the barber shop for
the trifling sum of $900. Up stairs the fellow rushed in hot haste
to the Captain to try and get his money back. I remained talking
with Captain Bill Thorwegon, of St. Louis. In came the Captain
and said, "George, did you win this man's money?"
"Yes, sir, I did;" as frankly as a school boy saying his catechism.
"Did I not tell you not to play that game on this boat?"
"Yes, sir; but, Captain, the man dared me to bet, and I wouldn't
take a dare from any man."
"Well, you'll have to go ashore at Hickman."
The boat was then about three miles below, and I had a faint
recollection that there was a man living at Hickman that I had beat
only a short time before, so I said to the Captain, "You can't land
her too quick to suit me. Put her into the bank as soon as you
can." Captain Thorwegon tried to dissuade me, but I was obstinate,
and insisted on being landed at once. Dunlap, my partner, was
ripping mad at my obstinacy, as it was dark, raining, and in the
woods. Out went the gang plank, however, and we on it, armed with
some matches, cigars, and a bottle of whisky. A big tree was soon
found, a fire started, and after patronizing the whisky bottle,
and sampling the cigars, we turned in for the night. Towards
morning I was awakened by a noise, and found that Dunlap, my partner,
was on fire. I woke him up and rushed him down into the river,
only a distance of about fifty feet, and he came out looking like
the worst tramp that ever was on the road. His coat was burned
off, and also one leg of his pantaloons, so he walked to Hickman
and purchased new clothes, and, boarding the first boat down,
induced the Captain to stop for me; and we returned to Memphis $900
ahead, but sadder and wiser men.