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THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF BEN HOGAN
[Illustration: _BEN HOGAN._]
THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF BEN HOGAN, THE WICKEDEST MAN IN THE WORLD.
Containing a Full Account of His Thrilling and Remarkable
Experiences, Together with a Complete Report of His Triumphs in
the Prize Ring, and His Career in the Oil Regions, in The Far West,
and on the Sea.
Illustrated with over Twenty Engravings.
Written, Under Mr. Hogan's Immediate Supervision, by
GEORGE FRANCIS TRAINER.
Copyright, 1878, by Ben Hogan.
PREFACE.
The writer of these pages desires it understood that he has acted simply
in the capacity of an amanuensis for Mr. Ben Hogan. The statements,
opinions, incidents, revelations and views are all the latter gentleman's.
It should be further explained that Mr. Hogan, and no one else, is
responsible alike for the contents and publication of this volume.
This explicit statement is called forth by a sense of justice; for the
writer himself would be very loath to lay claim to any of the brilliancy,
wit, or delicacy in the choice of subjects which may be found in this
book. The honor of all these belongs exclusively to Mr. Hogan.
GEORGE FRANCIS TRAINER.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
Early Life--Arrival in America--How he Avenged the Robbery
of his Father--Mysterious Disappearance of the Old Jew--In
the House of Refuge--Seafaring Life--Beginning of his
Boxing Career 17
CHAPTER II.
A Remarkable Game of Poker, and What Came of it--Ben as a
Pirate--Fast Life in New York--How he gave a Combination
Show in Oswego 29
CHAPTER III.
A Southern Trip--Experiences in New Orleans and Mobile--
Three Men Put Under the Sod by Ben's Bullets 39
CHAPTER IV.
Ben as a Spy in both the Union and Confederate Armies--The
Buried Treasure--How he Fooled the Captain--At Port Royal
and Newbern--Bounty-Jumping 45
CHAPTER V.
Ben in Canada--He goes West again--Adventures in
Cincinnati, Nashville, and Louisville--How he Sold the
Colored Troops--Sets out for the Oil Regions 54
CHAPTER VI.
First Appearance in the Oil Country--Dance House in
Pitthole--French Kate--Babylon House--Fight with Bob
Donnelly--His Explanation in Court of the Character of his
House 62
CHAPTER VII.
Attempt to Rob Ben--How he became a Minister and Married a
Couple--A Jolly Wedding--French Kate Jealous 76
CHAPTER VIII.
Attempt to Murder Ben in Babylon--He Shoots a Man and is
Arrested--Frightens the Witnesses and Prevents Perjury--Is
Acquitted 82
CHAPTER IX.
Leaves Oil Country--In Saratoga--Arrested on False
Reports--Goes back to Tidioute--In Rochester--First
Meeting with Cummings 86
CHAPTER X.
The Gymnasium Business--Life in Rochester--First Meeting
of Hogan and Tom Allen--A Disgraceful Affair 94
CHAPTER XI.
How Ben Treated the Deputy Sheriff--Annie Gibbons, the
Pedestrian--Ben goes to Pittsburgh and Meets Mr. Green 102
CHAPTER XII.
Ben in St. Louis--First Entree into Parker's Landing--
Opens a Free-and-Easy--Trouble with the Authorities 113
CHAPTER XIII.
The "Floating Palace"--A Wonderful Institution--The Girls
and the Patrons--Scenes of Revelry--How Nights were
Passed--The Loss of the "Palace" 118
CHAPTER XIV.
Return to Parker's Landing--His Three Years' Sojourn in
that Town--Adventures and Incidents--Attempt to Burn
Ben's House 125
CHAPTER XV.
Ben buys a House in Pittsburgh--Engineering for a New
Railroad--Goes to Petrolia and opens House--The Ladies'
Seminary 133
CHAPTER XVI.
Ben as a Politician--Elected Burgess of Petrolia, but
Cheated out of the Office--Goes to Greece City--Pleasure
trip West--Preparations to Fight Tom Allen in St. Louis 142
CHAPTER XVII.
The famous Fight with Tom Allen 151
CHAPTER XVIII.
What came of the Fight--Allen's Treachery--Attempts to
kill Ben in St. Louis 159
CHAPTER XIX.
Ben in Chicago--Returns to Pittsburgh--More of Allen--
Builds Opera Houses in Petrolia and Millerstown--Figures
once more in Politics 166
CHAPTER XX.
Ben as a Banker (Faro Banker)--Burglars--Counterfeit
Money, and How Hogan Didn't Handle it--Ben as a Doctor--
Allen in New York City--Why the Fight Fell Through 175
CHAPTER XXI.
The Girl Ben Met in Owney Geoghegan's--A Confiding Sea
Captain--Adventure in Little Falls--Pitching a Man Across
the Erie Canal--Return to Syracuse 181
CHAPTER XXII.
Another Challenge to Allen--Brookville and Indiana
Adventures 187
CHAPTER XXIII.
Ben's Generous Act in Indiana--Under Arrest in Pittsburgh
with Kitty--Goes West--Life in Grand Rapids--Mistaken for
a Minister 194
CHAPTER XXIV.
One More Challenge to Allen--Return to the Oil Country--
Ben and McDonald--Opens Dance-House in Elko City--Bullion
House--Kitty Runs Away 202
CHAPTER XXV.
Saratoga Trip--Bullion again--Arrival in Tarport--Opens
Dance-House--A Groundless Scandal--The Truth about the
Girl Carrie 209
CHAPTER XXVI.
Ben Leaves Tarport--What some of the Oil Country Papers
had to say about him--Arrival in New York 217
CHAPTER XXVII.
Ben as a Reformer--His Opinions on the Temperance
Question--Physical Culture--The Social Evil--Prisons and
Penitentiaries--Gambling 221
CHAPTER XXVIII.
Conclusion 237
INTRODUCTORY.
The life of any man is interesting as it reveals human nature and
discloses character. Biography is in itself a combination of all those
elements which go to make up literature. It is humor and pathos; it is
poetry and prose; it is the sternest tragedy and the broadest farce.
Fiction builds its most fantastic structures upon the inventions of the
brain. Biography writes in lasting characters upon the granite front of
truth. The record which it leaves is more wonderful than any flight of
fancy--more startling than any outburst of imagination.
If it were possible to read the history of men's lives written upon their
faces, the world would have little need of romances. This shabbily-dressed
figure, which to-day you jostle against in the street, might furnish
material for a volume of exciting tales. That white-faced woman, who
stares with a half-frightened look at the passers-by, could unfold a tale
of more terrible interest than ever evolved itself from the brain of the
novelist. Around and about us, in all places and at all times, the surging
sea of humanity casts up its broken spars and dismantled hulks. Those who
sail in calm waters, or walk the beach, may pick up these remnants of
wrecks, and find in them clews to voyages full of tragic interest.
Since this duty is often neglected by the more prosperous voyagers, and
since men's faces are not books which they who run may read, it falls to
the lot of the biographer to show to others the mystery of life.
Probably no man's career, if truthfully told, would be wholly barren of
interest. In proportion to the eventfulness of that career it gains in
interest. But it is a very serious mistake to assume that a person's
avocation in life determines the rank to which he ought, properly, to be
assigned. The art does not make the artist. It happens that there are a
good many preachers in this world who can not preach, a good many actors
who can not act, a good many writers who can not write. It happens, too,
that there are a good many people who can not do anything--whose excuse
for existing remains forever a conundrum. The written lives of such
harmless ciphers would be of interest only in so far as they might show
the uselessness of the subjects. But a study of any character which is
strongly marked ought to prove both entertaining and instructive. Nor is
it necessary that such a character should be spotless, in order to teach
some wholesome lessons. It has been the lot of the writer to meet some
eminently respectable persons who were at heart the most consummate
hypocrites. He has known school-teachers who harped upon the necessity of
bookish knowledge, while they fastened singular verbs to plural subjects.
He has met newly-fledged college graduates who talked loud over a "liberal
education," and floundered in the shallow waters of English syntax. He has
talked with crushed poets who cried out against the stupidity of the
world, and read their own verses, more limping than the Count Joannes as
_Romeo_. He has listened to straight-laced Puritans pray to be made more
Christ-like, and seen them, an hour afterward, turn a starving beggar
empty-handed from their door. He has heard pious directors of
savings-banks denounce the stage as an instrument of the devil, and
learned, the next day, that these sleek Pharisees were under indictments
for robbing the poor. He has talked with alleged "statesmen" and found
them roughs; with professed Christians, and found them narrow-minded
bigots; with the representatives of what is called fashionable society,
and found them noodle-heads. One day he met and talked with Ben Hogan, and
he found a gentleman.
Does that surprise you?
Let us not fall into any misunderstanding at the outset of this narrative.
The qualities which go to make up a gentleman are more readily appreciated
than explained. They may be possessed by any man, no matter what his
calling in life. They may be acquired under the most unpropitious
circumstances, or they may never be acquired, in spite of surroundings and
the advantages of education.
Ben Hogan is no saint--but it may be well to add that this volume is not
undertaken with a view to promulgating an immoral lesson. Yet, though the
hero shall not prove a saint, and though the record of his life may
contain some shadows, it is believed that nothing in the pages which
follow will be found to offend good taste. Saints, as a general rule, do
not make first-rate material for the biographer. The man who launches his
craft on life's sea and sails along in quiet waters, never striking out
upon any voyage of discovery, never running against any shoals or rocks,
never breasting any storms--such a man, sailing peacefully on until he
enters the great port of Death, may have a very pleasant time of it; but,
when his voyage is over, the log-book is found to contain precious little
which is of interest to the world. On the other hand, the mariner who
strikes boldly out in search of adventure, who runs his frail craft over
unexplored waters, who finds himself often stranded upon treacherous
coasts, and who laughs at danger and glories in the hardships of an
adventurer's life--such a voyager leaves behind a record which must needs
be racy reading. And even should it happen that this plucky mariner plays
the pirate at intervals, that certainly would not detract any from the
interest which attaches to his exploits.
A knowledge of men and the world comes only from personal acquaintance
with the one and experience in the other. There is a sort of wisdom which
is not contained in books. The man who would possess himself of that must
tread the by-ways as well as the highways of life. This Ben Hogan has
done. He has been a close observer of human nature, and he has made his
observations from many and various points. Profiting by what that great
teacher, Experience, has taught, he has become, in his own way, a
philosopher. He has learned to gauge men at sight. This rare faculty has
stood him in good stead throughout all his checkered career. In many of
the exciting scenes which this work will undertake to describe, the power
of measuring men for what they were worth proved the winning card in
Hogan's hand.
Added to this keen insight into human nature, he possesses a quick
appreciation, not only of the humorous but the pathetic. Nobody ever
appealed to him for aid without meeting with a generous response. It might
appear to those who have met him only in the character of a jolly good
fellow--the companion of an hour, over a bottle of wine--that he is not
the sort of man who concerns himself about the misery and misfortune in
this world. But such a conclusion would be eminently unjust. His
sympathies have never been hardened by the rough knocks which the world
has given him. And it is this very quickness of sympathy--this power to
feel for others--which makes the poet.
Here, then, at the very outset of his task, the biographer has made his
subject a gentleman, a philosopher, and a poet.
What! a pugilist a gentleman? A dance-house proprietor a philosopher? A
prize-fighter a poet?
Calm your ruffled temper, oh, indignant critic! Let your fretful quills
resume their normal, horizontal condition. This little book will not shake
the rock-founded morals of society. Not at all. Is it against the law of
Moses or the prophets that a pugilist should be a gentleman? That title,
remember, can not be conferred by royalty. It can not be inherited along
with houses and lands; but it may rightfully be claimed by the man,
whether preacher or pugilist, who acts honorably toward his fellow men,
who gives respectful attention to the opinion of others, and who endeavors
to conduct himself so that his presence is always welcome. If that be a
fair definition of a much-misunderstood word, then Ben Hogan is a
gentleman. And why may not the proprietor of a dance-house be a
philosopher? Is our barking critic quite sure that he knows what
philosopher stands for, or what philosophy means? Not book-learning--for,
bless your ignorant soul, Socrates himself counted life too precious to
waste in reading. Your dictionary will tell you that the word philosopher
means properly a lover of wisdom. There never lived a more passionate
lover of wisdom than Ben Hogan. And for the poet: Does it follow that
because a man hardens his muscles he likewise hardens his heart? Poetry
loves to spring out of seemingly unseemly places. It grows in rough soil
and flourishes where the sunshine never reaches. Bret Harte found truer
poetry in the life and death of Poker Flat's outcasts, than Martin Tupper
could in the whole range of domestic morality. It is not necessary that a
man should write verses to be a poet. What is demanded of him is a
sympathetic nature. And that Ben Hogan has.
Perhaps the reader who happens to enjoy a personal acquaintance with the
subject of this biography, may consider the foregoing as pretty steep
flattery, not to say amazing nonsense. Let him remember, however, that the
luxury of getting up a book about oneself is expensive; and certainly a
man has a right to order that written which pleases him best. Mr. Hogan
has availed himself of this privilege. He desires the world to know how
great a man he is. He wants all his illustrious deeds embalmed in print.
If, after reading this volume it shall occur to the world that Mr. Hogan
is deceived with respect to himself; that he is not a great man at all,
and that his illustrious deeds ought long ago to have landed him in
prison--if the world, I repeat, shall come to any such conclusion as this,
why, then it must settle accounts with Mr. Hogan himself. Greatness has
been unappreciated before now, and it is possible that some will fail to
understand why a man should voluntarily proclaim himself to be "The
Wickedest Man in the World."
[Illustration: _THE "SAILOR BOY" PUNISHES HIS ADVERSARY._]
THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF BEN HOGAN: THE WICKEDEST MAN IN THE WORLD.
CHAPTER I.
Early Life--Arrival in America--How he Avenged the Robbery of his
Father--Mysterious Disappearance of the Old Jew--In the House of
Refuge--Seafaring Life--Beginning of his Boxing Career.
Benedict Hagan, whose name has become familiar in the altered form of
Hogan, is a native of W├╝rtemberg, Germany. With his parents, he immigrated
to this country at the age of eleven years.
His father was a cabinet-maker by trade, who had saved up something like a
thousand dollars, with which he set forth to better his condition in the
New World. Along with his family, he arrived in New York in the summer of
1852. His reception was not of the most encouraging nature, and an
incident which occurred almost immediately after the landing of the family
will serve to show the character of Hogan at that time.
As was customary with all emigrants who had any money to carry, the elder
Hogan had secured his fortune, amounting to eight hundred dollars in gold,
in a belt fastened about his shoulders. When he walked out of Castle
Garden he was forthwith set upon by a Hebrew of the South street order,
whose nose resembled his nature, because it was sharp. This enterprising
Jew, who spoke German fluently, induced the emigrant to go into a small
shop where everything was given away--for four times its value. The
unsuspecting Hogan made a small purchase, and when he came to pay for it,
disclosed the bag containing his gold. The sight was enough to rouse the
Hebrew. Precisely how it happened he did not know; but in an amazingly
short time Hogan senior found himself relieved of his eight hundred
dollars.
Had it not been for the presence of young Ben, it may be safely assumed
that the emigrant would never have gone forth from the Jew's place alive.
The boy, however, presented an obstacle to the commission of murder, which
was undoubtedly intended by the robbers. They determined, therefore, to
get rid of their victims by strategy instead of force. One of their
"cappers" offered to lead the way to the police station where they might
get assistance in recovering the money. He did lead the way, but it is
unnecessary to add that there were not a great many police stations in the
neighborhood to which he conducted them. The Hebrew perhaps thought that
he had made one of the fattest "hauls" in his life; but it turned out to
be a very dear job.
Young Ben, although a mere child, marked the man who had robbed his
father, and resolved to be avenged. Three or four years afterward, he
returned to New York, and after days of diligent search he discovered the
Hebrew.
"That is the man!" he muttered to himself.
With two or three trusty companions, he resolved upon a plan of action
which he proceeded to carry out.
The next day Ben called upon the Jew in his shop. He represented himself
to be an employee of the Emigrant Department. He said that a great many
chances came to him of making money, but he wanted a confederate. Would
the Jew like to have him (Hogan) bring emigrants to the shop with plenty
of money in their pockets? It wouldn't be of much consequence how they got
out of the shop!
"Dat vas a fine idea--a very fine idea!" answered the old vulture, rubbing
his bony hands together. "You brings 'em in, and I'll take care of how
they goes out. And together ve'll take care of all their gold!"
That night Ben called again at the shop and told the Jew that a very green
young emigrant was waiting to take a walk along the docks.
"He's got piles of money on him!" added Hogan.
The old Jew accordingly set forth with the green young emigrant. As a
matter of fact, this verdant youth was one of Hogan's companions; and the
"piles of money" which Ben had described consisted of lumps of lead put
into a bag, after the emigrant fashion.
Fate is a curious thing in this world. That old Hebrew, for instance,
started forth from his shop on the night in question, intent upon robbing
the green young emigrant and throwing his body into the river. But he
didn't carry out his plans. Perhaps he retired from his South street den.
Perhaps he concluded to take a tour to Jerusalem; or perhaps he went to
Canada; or perhaps his foot tripped, and he fell into the East river.
Whatever his fate, he didn't rob any more emigrants of their hard-earned
savings.
Relieved of his gold, the senior Hogan, with his family, removed to
Syracuse, N. Y., which city he made his permanent home. The family was not
by any means rich in this world's goods, and it became necessary for Ben
to do something toward his own support. His first venture at money-making
was in the line of a peddler. His father bought him an outfit--the horse
could not trot under thirty, but he did very well to draw a peddler's
cart--costing, in all, twenty-five dollars. The young peddler's first day
was not altogether successful. He made a number of sales and exchanges,
but when he came to balance his accounts he found that he was four dollars
out of pocket. The next day, however, he did better, and at the end of six
months he had cleared seventy-five dollars.
It may be well to remark here, that, from his earliest boyhood, Ben Hogan
has possessed the faculty of making money. He never saved any, because he
is too open handed to take any thought of the morrow. But, if he has not
saved, he has rarely wanted. His ingenuity and quick wit have invariably
"made a raise," and prevented him from remaining "broke" any length of
time.
Among the experiences of this epoch in his career was one which resulted
somewhat seriously for our hero. It was found out by a companion that
there was a big house near the city occupied by a minister, who had a
large collection of books; in these books were many fine engravings, and
it occurred to this youngster that if he could get hold of these pictures
he might make his fortune by exhibiting them. It was plain that the books
would not come to him, and he accordingly concluded to go to the books.
For obvious reasons he did not ring the front-door bell, nor leave his
card behind him. He found it more convenient to go through the window. In
a wagon which he had brought with him for the purpose, he carted off a
large number of valuable volumes, tore out the pictures, and threw the
books away, telling Ben he had bought the pictures.
Ben Hogan's career as a showman may be said to have begun when he first
exhibited these engravings which had embellished the library of the
clergyman. They were steel engravings, which perhaps was why they were
stolen. The adventure proved a success while it lasted, but it didn't last
very long. At one and two cents admission the gallery was crowded; but at
the very opening of a prosperous season the youthful manager was arrested.
This naturally interfered with the show. Although the boy had not really
committed anything like a crime here, he was sent to the penitentiary,
where he remained thirty days.
Upon his release he went to work in his father's cabinet shop, but was not
wholly contented there. The roving spirit within him began thus early to
develop itself. Among Ben's acquaintances at this time were a couple of
choice young spirits known in Syracuse as Joe Heizler and "Red Jacket."
Probably the owner of this latter distinctive appellation had been
christened by some other name, but he was known always and only as Red
Jacket. The three boys determined upon setting forth from home and finding
out what the world was beyond the salt limits of Onondaga county.
Accordingly they got together their limited capital, and without troubling
themselves to check their trunks, started for Oswego.
They reached that flour-y and flourishing town with fifty cents in their
pockets, failed to get a very cordial reception from Landlord Hartmann,
and proceeded to look about for work. Ben was the only one of the trio who
had pluck and energy enough to succeed. He found employment on board of a
schooner lying in port, and by working like a beaver, earned enough to
support his companions. Finding that board bills would be inconvenient to
settle, it occurred to Ben that housekeeping would be more economical.
Neither a house nor furniture bothered him so much as a stove with which
to prepare the meals. He finally mustered up courage to go into a hardware
store and tell the proprietor that he would rather have a stove than any
amount of stock in an insurance company.
"What do you want a stove for?" asked the astonished merchant.
"To keep house with!" was the prompt reply. "If you will trust me for that
stove, I'll pay you as sure as I live!"
The earnest manner of the boy had its effect upon the merchant, who not
only let Ben have the stove, but provided him with a small house on the
outskirts of the town, where the three companions took up their residence.
Ben not only earned all the money, but he was housekeeper and cook as
well. How long they might thus have lived must remain a conundrum, for
the household was abruptly broken up one day by the appearance of a
policeman, who took the runaways back to Syracuse.
Ben was again put to work in his father's shop, but the restraint of the
place led to frequent eruptions, and finally, with a view to breaking his
refractory spirit, he was sent to the House of Refuge in Rochester. He
remained there three months.
The reader will pardon a brief interruption in the narrative while the
writer gives expression to some opinions concerning Houses of Refuge and
other similar institutions. Mr. Hogan believes--and his belief, I think,
will be shared by all who give the subject careful attention--that, as at
present conducted, these places are more productive of evil than of good.
Boys are thrust into a House of Refuge where they find many associates
more hardened than themselves, and where they learn a good deal of
wickedness which they did not know before. The more advanced in crime
become the teachers of those who are just entering the broad path. Impure
habits are terribly common among the boys confined in these Houses of
Refuge. Even worse is the condition of many of the asylums and
reformatories for women. If a woman has once fallen, she will not be apt
to be reclaimed by entering one of these places. Better far if the mother
or father of a girl who has gone astray should say to her, "You have done
wrong, but I will not cast you off; try to redeem the past by making your
life pure hereafter." Such words as those would do more to restore
Magdalene to true womanhood than all the philanthropic institutions which
were ever erected. Ben Hogan bears testimony to the fact that he learned
nothing good during his three months' sojourn in the Rochester
institution; and unless he had been a pretty clear-headed boy he would
have come out a good deal worse than he did.
Upon returning home, Ben tried his hand at cabinet-making again; but he
was no more contented than before. Opposite his father's shop was a
building with a chain running over a pulley, and this chain was a constant
temptation to our hero. Whenever he could get the opportunity, he would
slip out and climb up the chain to the top of the building, letting
himself down head foremost with his feet. This performance excited
considerable admiration from those who witnessed it, and the young athlete
was called upon to repeat it frequently.
One day a dispute arose between Ben and the foreman of the shop, in which
the latter undertook to tell the boy what he should, and what he should
not do. Thinking that one "boss" was enough, and that his father
rightfully held that position, the young cabinet-maker gave an exhibition
of his skill in the manly art by planting a backhander square on the
foreman's nose. When he picked himself up, he was more of a hind man than
a foreman. And he didn't have any more to say to Ben.
Shortly after this episode, the desire to see the world again took
possession of our hero, and with very little preparation he left Syracuse.
He took with him Red Jacket, Joe Heizler, Nick Shearer, and as big a stock
of crackers and cheese as could be purchased for a dollar and a half. It
may be remarked incidentally that the crackers and cheese stood by Ben
better than any of his companions. They traveled by the Erie canal as far
as Schenectady, and there got a job at cutting broom-corn. Red Jacket and
the others soon became homesick, and at the end of a couple of weeks
disappeared; but Ben kept pluckily to his work, and at the end of five
weeks he set out for Albany with a new suit of clothes and fifteen dollars
in his pocket. I say "pocket," although he really carried his money in his
stocking. The conductor on the train was induced to let the boy ride free,
Ben telling him that he hadn't a cent of money, and that he would pay him
some other time.
[Illustration: _THE WAMBOLD._]
Once in Albany, our hero lost no time in securing work, which he found on
the tow-boat "Belle." His idea was to get to New York, and then to strike
out at whatever presented itself. The captain of the "Belle" evinced a
good deal of interest in the boy, and proposed to take him to his home in
the country when the boating season should end. Ben listened demurely to
this proposition, and said he "would see." After making a couple of trips
or so, the captain wasn't able to see his protege as much as formerly. In
fact, Ben had no relish for the idea of a home in the country and so
remained in New York.
It was at this period that he shipped as cabin-boy on the "Humboldt,"
where he continued for two years. His readiness to do whatever was
demanded of him, added to his indomitable pluck, enabled him to make a
considerable sum in the way of extra wages; so that at the end of the two
years he had saved up two hundred and seventy-five dollars in gold. This
entire amount he sent to his father in Syracuse. The fact that he did not
even let his parents know from whom the money came, furnishes an
excellent illustration of his character. Throughout his life Ben Hogan has
done a good many generous acts, but he has not troubled himself about
advertising them to the world.
It was during the time that his ship was lying in port that Ben happened
to be passing through Crosby street one night, when he saw, in blazing
letters, the word "Gymnasium." That was a staggerer for the young tar. He
had heard of a good many curious things in this world, but he had never
before heard of a gymnasium. Crossing the street, he stood looking eagerly
at the entrance of the building, when the door opened, and he caught sight
of ropes and chains and flying-rings. That proved too much for him to
withstand, and so he made his way into the place. The apparatus filled him
with wonder, but he took to it as naturally as a duck takes to water, or a
Fourth Ward politician takes to whisky. Seeing others lifting the
dumb-bells and swinging the clubs, he forthwith began to do the same
himself. His fun was suddenly interrupted by the proprietor of the place,
who came up and demanded what he was doing.
"Don't you see?" answered Ben, raising first one hand and then the other.
"But you don't belong here," continued the proprietor.
"Oh, that don't make any difference," answered the young salt, vigorously
working with the bells; "I'll do this for nothing--you needn't mind about
paying me!"
The gymnasium proprietor stared in amazement, but Ben was too much in
earnest to admit of the suspicion that he was "guying." Finally he
explained to the boy that a course of lessons would cost twenty-five
dollars. Ben offered twenty-five cents for a part of a course, but the
offer was not accepted. Then the teacher induced him to put on the gloves,
and pitted him against a boy of about his own size. The other boy
understood boxing and Ben didn't. The result was that our hero, although
he showed plenty of pluck and was game all through, came out second best.
He resolved, then and there, that he would get somebody to show him how to
use his hands, and take satisfaction out of that "other boy."
This resolve he carried out. Upon the recommendation of the gymnasium
keeper, he called upon Wood, and showed such aptness in the manly art,
that in two weeks' time he went back and polished off his former
antagonist in the most approved style.
The fascination of the gloves proved so strong that Ben made up his mind
to leave the "Humboldt," which he accordingly did. Devoting pretty much
all his time to the practice of boxing, he soon became wonderfully expert
for one of his age, and was known in sporting circles as "The Sailor Boy."
Under the patronage of Billy Clark, he attended a sparring exhibition one
night, and was matched against a boy considerably bigger than himself, but
whom he disposed of in short order. Then the crowd found a second youth,
who also put on the mittens, but finding that "The Sailor Boy" was too
much for him, resorted to his feet, and dealt Ben a kick.
This was a style of boxing which our young hero had not been taught;
nevertheless, he was prepared to pay back in the same coin. He had on, at
that time, a pair of heavy brogans, such as are often seen upon German
emigrants. Dropping at once to the little game of his antagonist, Ben
raised his foot and gave him a kick which doubled him up in a sort of
pretzel-shaped bow-knot. He rolled about on the stage like a kangaroo
suffering from the colic, while his backers shouted and swore, and the
crowd yelled itself hoarse. In the midst of this general hubbub, "The
Sailor Boy" quietly slipped out of the hall.
Thus ended Ben Hogan's first public sparring match. It came precious near
ending the fellow who fought against him, and it is safe to assume that he
never kicked a man after that without first looking to see whether he wore
brogans.
[Illustration: _THE PIRATE "SPHINX" CAPTURING A RICH TREASURE._]