One day, after Bill and I had worked the morning train on the
Jackson Road with that degree of success which was warranted by
our prudence and perseverance, we took an afternoon train into the
city, and as I was glancing through the cars I spied both of the
superintendents aboard, so of course I made up my mind that there
would be no playing on that train. To make the matter doubly sure,
one of them came to me and said, "George, do not play any on our
trains."
"Certainly not, gentlemen, and you can rest assured of that" (while
you are aboard), I said to myself.
We had not traveled far when the news came that a freight train
was ditched a short distance up the road. Our train stopped, and
the superintendents went to the wreck of the engine. Then I saw
my chance and got up a foot race among the passengers. Meanwhile
Billy opened up on a log as the contestants were getting ready to
run. A crowd soon collected around Billy's booth, and he garnered
in 1,200 good dollars and some fine gold watches. Up came the
engine, and when the superintendents heard of it, they said, "We
might have known that Devol would fix up some plan to get these
suckers' money."
Thus it was that I was always blamed for all the devilment that
was done. I really believe if a horse had been stolen the verdict
would have been: Devol did it.