Mower County Transcript

On the Union Pacific.

The scene occurred in a railroad car on the Union Pacific Road, in which two men were gambling, while the rest of the passengers looked on. One of the gamsters was a type of the professionals who "work" the road—a desperate trickster, sleek and ugly; the other was a rough, grizzled miner, not a sham, but a bona fide miner, fresh from the mountains, and carrying abundance of money. The game—draw poker—was for large stakes, and played silently and watchfully. Finally a huge pot accumulated: each man had evidently a good hand and was resolved to stand by it. The pile of notes was huge. Each man raised the other until finally the miner "called."

The gambler showed his hand—three aces and two queens—at the same time covering the money with his hand. The miner uttered not a word: he merely took two of his cards and laid them down; they were aces. This meant five aces in the pack. The gambler had dealt. The miner reached back like lightning, drawing a huge navy revolver. He cocked it and placed the muzzle between the eyes of the gambler. Not a word was spoken, but each of the two men looked steadily into the eyes of the other. Soon the gambler's hand upon the money began to draw back, and the gambler's form as well. The revolver followed. The gambler stepped into the aisle, and at this point passengers in the car seemed to lose their interest in the game, most of them trying to get under the seats. The gambler backed down the aisle toward the door, and as he passed out the muzzle of that huge revolver still stared him in the face. Then the miner put up his pistol, pocketed the money, lit his pipe and was as other men. Not a word had been spoken from the time the "call" was made. It was merely one of the rare occasions where a gambler on the Union Pacific mistakes his man. It isn't always safe to fool with an honest miner.