“Lost ag'in!” yelled Slippery Jim, “Never a mo'sel o’ luck in m’ life! Yankee, you're on th’ velvet agin!” Says Yankee: “Jim, let's play f'r a wife!
There's Bonanza Pearl, she's sweet on you;— Fairer‘ card’ no gambler ever drew!” Slippery Jim staked high that night, The game was poker,— rake-in keeps ——
Yankee Pete hilarious, ready t’ fight —— Rakin’ th’ gold-dust up in heaps. Jim's last poke throw'd on th’ table, so; “It's my last ounce, boys! Well, let‘ er go!”
He had staked the dance-hall — staked the bar — Then, reckless, staked the “Wonder” mine, Known on Bonanza near an’ far As the lucky strike of Eighty-nine.
Jim had played it all — an’ lost! The sweat Come when he gasps: “It's my last — bet!” “You've got Pearl left,” grins Yankee Pete, “Do n't funk now, Jim: make her th’ stake.”
With a howl of hate Jim was on his feet —— But a voice rings out: “THAT BET WE'LL TAKE!” And Bonanza Pearl steps up t’ me, “You'll see this game played square!” says she.
Says Yank. “I stake my all‘ gainst th’ Girl.” ( Then I see th’ flame le'p in his eyes ) “An’ if I win you, Bonanza Pearl, Your soul an’ body no man denies
B'longs t’ me!” He stacked his gold, As a groan from Jim his agony told. Now, Jim was a MAN. He funked no game;— Says he: “I'll stake blood, bone an’ life,
But I'll put no woman to th’ shame Of bein’ played‘ a chip’ in tin-horn strife!” But Bonanza, she steps up t’ him An’ she says: “Y’ COULDN'T LOSE ME, JIM!”
“Come,” says Bonanza, “Turn up th’ pack”; She skinned the bunch with a laughin’ eye; I gets close up ahind Jim's back Ready t’ let th’ bullets fly.
Th’ two men playin’ a round‘ r so, An’ the luck agin’ Slippery seem'd t’ go. “Straight flush o’ di'monds — Ace at th’ head;” In a whirlwind play Yank takes the pot.
Slippery's eyes was now blood-red —— His lips crack'd dry — his breath comin’ hot; The last deal ended the game, I saw ‘ Twas Yankee Pete's first play — an’ draw.
Jim's hand? cripes!‘ Twas a reg'lar prize; Luck had turned — he had aces t’ burn! But he sot there starin’ with bloodshot eyes, An’ what I saw then gev’ ME quite a turn ——
F'r th’ divil's own luck was at his heel, He'd an EXTRA CARD —‘ twas a clear MISDEAL! I let my hand t’ th’ trigger go —— Jim's throat gev’ a sickish kind o’ laugh;
An’ he says: “I'm dry as h — ll, so, W'ot d'ye say to a shandy-gaff? An’,” says Jim, “I'll hev’ a bite t’ eat; Pearl, fetch me a sangwich o’ bread an’ meat”!
“Locoed!” yelled Yankee, quittin’ th’ game, Handin’ over th’ stakes. But Slippery Jim Hunchin’ up of his powerful frame Giv’ a kind of a grin o’ hate at him.
“D —— n y'r gold!” he says, “Slippery Jim to-night Will begin t’ live like a man born white!” Now, perhaps you'd say the game war n't square —— An’ some might call it a bunko trick;
But if you loved a ga'l an’ she stood there, Would n't y’ swap souls with old Nick Rather'n let her go t’ Yankee Pete An’ play her game on Bonanza street?
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