SOAPY'S LITTLE GAME
"Soapy" Smith was a criminal, with a long record of robbery and murder.
In early life he had been a common "faker" and sold soap, hence his
sobriquet. His process consisted of wrapping small bits of laundry soap
in paper, and including--or appearing to include--with several of the
pieces a bank bill of varying value. Then he would mix all the pieces
together, and picking a handful out of the mass, auction them. Needless
to say every successful purchaser was a confederate!
In the Mining Camps of the Western States he later took more radical
methods, making many enemies and some friends. When he and his gang
wished to exterminate an enemy they would hunt him out in some saloon,
gather about him, and play at fighting among themselves. Revolvers would
be drawn and shots fired--the man "wanted" would be killed. It would be
somewhat hard to find the actual man who fired the fatal shot, and, in
any case, a subservient jury would bring in a verdict of "accidental"
death.
The community that grew at the head of the Lynn Canal in the spring of
1898 was a complete hotbed for crime. There Soapy Smith established
himself, and law and justice ceased to exist. Gold-seekers were enticed
into games, and fleeced or openly robbed in the streets. Every saloon
was owned by the desperado, or paid him tribute, and he drew revenue
from every gambling-table.
Soapy Smith was the boss of these evil conditions. He was styled
"Colonel," and spoken of as a candidate for Congress. A body of United
States Regulars were stationed at Skagway, but did nothing. The Deputy
United States Marshal would make promises, but take no action.
The second evening after the arrival of our party in Skagway the sky was
overcast, and through the night a storm arose. So they stayed within
doors all the next day; but towards night inaction told on them,
likewise lack of fresh air. They became restless after their evening
meal, and George finally said: "Let us go out"--and they went. George
did not say where--nor did John ask. There was only one place to go to,
and that was a saloon and gambling-hall: one was much the same as the
other. Every saloon was a gambling-hall: every gambling-hall a saloon.
On the next night, in the vicinity of Skagway's Sixth Avenue, they
wandered into a saloon which had no sign: the question of what its name
was did not cross their minds! The air was foul, and floor space not too
plentiful. Women stared at them, and "Passed them up." Not so the men.
They moved on to the gaming-tables. John threw a coin on to the Black
Jack table. To his surprise he won. He speculated again: again he won.
Then he remembered the old dodge of letting the novice win a bit at
first, so he decided he would keep on until he found himself losing.
When he had won twenty dollars he put the money into his pocket, and
went on with George to watch a man playing for heavy stakes at roulette.
At this table there was never a word spoken, and the gold pieces passed
from banker to player, from player to banker, without comment.
While the two were looking on they noticed a man come and stand by the
banker, watch the game for a little while, glance shrewdly at them, and
go away. Shortly afterwards another man did the same. John and George
realised this attention, but said nothing. A third man came along, and
bluntly asked them,
"Ever play roulette?"
"No; at least not often," said John.
"Good game."
"Yes."
"Ever shoot craps?"
"No."
"There's a table down at the end of the hall. Care to see it?"
They followed their entertainer to the dimly-lighted rear, where several
men were leaning over a table throwing dice. They watched the game a
bit, and found it uninteresting. They turned to go, when their new
acquaintance made a move to follow--and asked in a hesitating way, "Have
a drink?"
George declined.
The fellow pondered a bit, and then said in an ingratiating way, "Would
you fellows like to see a big mountain goat I bought from the Siwashes
to-day?"
John and George followed the man through a doorway into a cold room
where a few candles were burning on a rough table. On the floor lay an
immense mountain goat.
"My word!" said George, "what a beauty!"
They stood for some minutes surveying the dead monarch of the mountain
crests, their entertainer taking one of the candles and holding it at
the animal's head. Suddenly they heard groans, which appeared to come
through the doorway at the opposite end of the room.
"What's that?"
The man took a candle and walked to the door, bending his head, as if
listening intently. The groans were continued. John and George went over
to him. He held the candle in his left hand, and appeared to haul at the
door with his right. "Oh! Oh!" came from the room in tones of deepest
distress. The fellow handed the candle to John, and then, catching the
door with both hands, gave it a mighty wrench. The heavy plank door
opened and showed a dark cavity, which drank up the slender light of the
candle so effectually that they could distinguish nothing. Cautiously
John entered, followed by George. The door was slammed; they were
trapped.
"We're caught! Soapy has us," exclaimed George.
John turned, shaded the candle with his hand, and explored the room. It
was not large, and it took him but a minute to make a circuit of the
four walls.
"We're caught!" was said again.
"But there is no one here: where did the groans come from?" asked John.
"Don't know, if they weren't ventriloquism," replied George.
That seemed likely. John ran and gave the door a kick: it was solid as a
wall.
"What will they do with us?" he asked.
"Freeze us to death; we'll freeze quick enough in this atmosphere."
The place was cold, clammy, benumbing. The walls were log; the floor of
earth, sparkling with frost crystals; the roof was built of poles. There
was no window. Here and there, where the crevices of the logs had not
been thoroughly filled, and the air came in, there were patches of
frost. They searched for some implement. The room was thoroughly
bare--there was not even a billet of wood, let alone an axe, or saw.
Things were at a pass. They were both to perish in horrible death. The
cold was seizing them. They stamped up and down the room, and shouted.
There was, there could be, no answer.
Frenzy came over them. Trapped! To perish of bitter cold! Horrible!...
Horrible! To famish as caged animals. They saw their little destiny--to
walk, and walk, and walk, and then to lie down and sleep till death, the
reality, came. Their impotency galled them. How weak were their arms and
strength against these walls of logs!
They marched about for an hour or more, encouraging each other as brave
men will.
Then cries were heard faintly from the outside, and new noises, which
grew, and continued to grow. A great blow shook the wall, and then
another. John shouted; George shouted; the blows were repeated; then
they heard voices and shouted again. The door was burst open and in
rushed a number of men.
"Come, fellows, out of this, or you'll be cooked!"
It was the voice of Hugh.
They eagerly followed him through the room where the goat was, and out
through a side door into the open, where a great glare met them. An
outhouse was on fire. Men were rushing about and shouting; but Hugh kept
on through the crowd, and the rescued followed him till they reached the
safety of the street.
"Now we'd better duck for home," said Spencer. "I go with you"; and
through the storm they struggled till they reached the Frau's
restaurant.
She had not yet retired, so they called for supper--tea, bacon, and
beans. After they had settled down Hugh told his story.
"You see, fellows, after I landed I went over to the Chilkoot to have a
look at things there; but after talking to the fellows I reckoned that
the White Pass was best for me, so back I comes. I was in the hall
to-night with you fellows, but you did not see me; and I thought I would
just lay back and see if you would hit the games. Then I kind of got a
notion Soapy's men were watching you; so I thought I would watch the
whole outfit. I see you go back to the crap-game, and then I see you go
into the room with your bunco man--and then I don't see you come out; so
I said to myself, you are there for keeps! Now there was with me one
fellow I could rely on, so I asked him to keep an eye on that door, and
I got out on the street to size up the building. I see towards the rear
the wing you went into, so I walks down there, sizing things up. Round
on the back side I see a door and a window, but the door had the snow
piled up against it--besides, I knew they would not lock you in a room
with a window in it, as you could easily kick that out.
"Then I looks at the walls, and I see by the end of the logs sticking
out that there was a room which had neither window nor door to the
outside, and I said, 'That's the cage!' So I ran back to the saloon and
asked my friend there if anybody had come out, and he said 'No.' I came
to the conclusion that I would make a bluff of going in at the door you
came out of. It was no good; a fellow stopped me and said, 'This room is
private.' This made me sure you were still there, so I commenced
figuring out how I could get you free, and I thought hard. The thing was
to get a crowd together; and as a dog fight is no good in Skagway in the
middle of the night--especially in a snowstorm--I said to myself,
'Fire!' I remembered a building I took for a wood-shed lying near your
skookum house,[5] so I just hunted it up, and after finding there was a
lot of wood in it, with some hay, I set a match to it, and got out,
taking an axe with me. In five minutes it was going fine, and I yelled
'Fire! fire! fire!' Then it was all easy. I struck the logs with the
axe, and yelled there was somebody in there who would get burned; I
busted in the door to the outer room, and then the one into where you
were locked up--the other fellows following. I don't know what the other
fellows around the fire will think you were doing in there; but I guess
they won't ask any questions. Fellows don't ask questions in Soapy's
town; it doesn't do them much good if they do."
[5] "Skookum House": Chinook Indian term for prison--literally
"strong" house.
John and George expressed their gratitude very simply.
"I am going in over the White Pass," he continued, "and I figure, as us
fellows can't keep clear of each other, that we'd better join forces."
"Done!" cried George.
"A good idea!" said John.
So it was agreed.
In the morning details were talked over, and business was arranged.
Additional purchases were made, including two more dogs, thereupon
named Tom and Jerry. Hugh induced his friends to part with much of their
bedding, saying he had a large lynx-skin robe that was warmer than a
dozen pairs of blankets, under which the three might sleep. A
waterproof, a large tanned moose-skin, and a couple of pairs of blankets
would be sufficient to lie upon. Then the commissariat was considered.
Sugar, tea, evaporated potatoes, dried fruit, etc., to be used in the
preparation of every meal, were put into small canvas bags, and those
into a large sack. The general stores were put away in waterproof canvas
sacks, which were marked to indicate contents. The axes of the party
were ground and sharpened. At last all was ready for the advance.