LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XX, Issue 1498, 4 December 1878, Page 3

LITERATURE.

THE FATAL CARD.

Rome years ago the Mississippi river was noted for its ‘ floating palaces,’ as the large steamers plying between New Orleans and the ports above were called. Now the railways have driven nearly all the line boats off the river, and left the field to the freightboats, whose accommodations for passengers are by no means palatial. The former class of steamers were in many respects delightful, but they never ceased to be objects of dread to timid people, for if the racing, which was reduced to a systsm, did not result in the loss of the boat, there was sure to be one or more encounters between the lawless portion of the travellers, in which pistol bullets would fly rather thick for tne comfort of steady-going people. The cause of such disturbances was generally a quarrel over the gambling-table The regulations of the boat usually required that all such amusements should be conducted in a saloon provided for the purpose in the ‘ Texas ’ or officers’ cabin, situated on the hurricane deck; but the sporting gentry were by no means careful to obey this rule, and the gaming was most commonly carried on on the dining-tables in the main saloon of the steamer, to the great annoyance of twothirds of those on board. Many professional gamblers used to make these boats their home, travelling back and forth with them and fleecing all those who were verdant or foolish enough to fall into their clutches. So well, indeed, was this system managed, that the various members of the * craft’ seemed to have their different steamers marked out for them by common consent, so that no one would trespass on the domain of the other. Of course these men were warm friends of the officers of the boat, who were either t o sincere in their friendship to put a stop to the practice, or too much afraid of the gamblers to care to provoke a quarrel with them, for in those days it was a common affair for such men to resent any fancied affront with a pistol-shot. One of the most remarkable men of their class was named Daniel Sturdivant, a Frenchman, the son of a biokeu down scion of nobility, who had settled in New Orleans before the transfer of Louisiana to the United States, Sturdivant had been raised as a ‘gentleman’ by his aristocratic father, but upon coming of age, and finding his fortunes very bad, had taken to cards as a means of bettering them. His success in this fi Id was ro great that he was induced to continue it. until at the time I write he was one of the most notorious gamblers between Rt. Louis and New Orleans. He was forty-five years old, but had kept him self so well that he seemed much younger. He was a man of flu e personal appearance and of great physical strength. He was also noted for his personal courage. As a gambler ho was most expert and successful. There were dark stories of deeds which he had committed while under the influence of play and liquor, and it was said by some that he had killed half a dozen men in his life-time. Yet no one cared to speak these stories openly, for no one cared to bring upon himself the auger of such a man. There were few who knew him who rea ly cared to play against him, but they feared a refusal to do so might involve them in a quarrel with him, and rarely declined his invitations

About fifteen years ago, the time of which I write, he had attached himself to one of the magnificent steamers plying between New Orleans and Vicksburg, and had publicly announced his determination to shoot any man who attempted to encroach upon his scene of operations. Of course this left him in undisputed possession of the field, and he reaped a go'den harvest from it during the one brief year that he conducted his operations there. ft was my lot at that time to he compelled to make frequent trips between New Orleans and Vicksburg, being heavily engaged in cotton speculations. I preferred the steamer, of which Sturdivant had taken possession, inasmuch as it was not only the most comfortable, but also the swiftest, and time was of importance to mo. It was known that I carried large sums of money with me, and I was always apprehensive lest Sturdivant should ask mo to play. I had fully made up my mind to refuse him, and if he attempted to draw me into a quarrel to shoot him without mercy, as I knew that the only chanee for my life lay in getting the advantage of him. Strange to say, he did not make any such proposition to me, and I gave him no chance to do so. One night we had started out for Vicksburg, and were heading merrily down the river, when Sturdivant came up to the group which had gathered around the stove. He had been drinking and was smoking a fine cigar. As he approached all made way for him.

‘Well, gentlemen,’ he said in au unsteady tone, ‘ you seem to he terrible dull. Who wants to play for 20 dollars auto ?’ There was no reply. ‘Umph !’ he exclaimed with an expression of contempt, * afraid to try your luck against Dan Sturdivant, eh ? Or maybe you want a little coaxing. Some of you must play with me. I can’t stand sucli treatment. Come, let’s aeo who it will bo.’

He glanced around the crowd as if to select his victim. Kor the first time I noticed the gaze of one of the group fixed steadily upon him. He was a stranger to me, and was dressed in a plain suit of homespun, and his face was partially concealed by a wid -brimmed sombrero which was drawn over it. He was a small, hut powerfully made man, aud in the decided expression of his well-shaped hand I read an unusual firmness and intensity of purpose. ‘Are you Daniel Sturdivant, the gambler ?’ he asked in a calm tone, without ris’ng. Sturdivant flushed darkly and gave the stranger a fierce glance. ‘iSomo persons call me so, behind my back,’ he said, insolently, ‘hut no ouc wool 1 dare to apply that term to me before my face.’ ‘Nevertheless,’ said the stranger, ‘lwant an answer—yes or no.’

‘Well, then,’ said the gambler, angrily, ‘lam. What of it ?' ‘Simply this,’ replied the stranger, ‘I have heard it said that you claim to bo the best card player in tho south-west. I have come two hundred miles to prove you a liar. Sturdivant strode forward a step or two and thrust his hand into his breast as if to grasp a weapon. ‘Stop,’said the stranger/' *if you shoot me, you will simply prove yourself afraid of men. Take your seat at the table, and I will make my word good ’ There was something in the calm, stern manner of the stranger that seemed to render the gamble powerless i f e hesitated for a moment and then sai l hullyingly : ‘ 1 never play with a man whose face I cannot see.’ ‘ Never mind my face,’ said the stranger. ‘ If you a-c not afraid of losing you shall see it wh> n I am (lor e with you.’ ‘ But how do I know you have money enough for such sportpersisted Sturdivant, ' y v u look seedy enough, my line fellow.’ ' Tlr re,’ said tho stringer, producing a largo pocket hook. ‘I have lO.OOOdols. there; if you can win it you shall do ao.’

With an oath Sturdivant placed himself at the table and bade his challenger do likewise. Those of us who had listened to this singular dialogue now gathered around the ta >Je expecting to see a scene of more than usual inte'cst. The stranger had not yet raised his hat brim, and none of us had seen his face, but we all felt from his general air and manner that Daniel Sturdivant had at last met his match. It did not take long to show that the stranger was an unusually good player. For an hour or more the playing went on in silence. The stakes were high and the contest marked with rare skill. Sturdivant exerted himself as he had never done before, but in spite of his efforts he lost steadily. By the expiration of the time indicated above he had lost 2000dols. I noticed the flush upon his face deepen, and a strange light came into his eyes. At last, with an exclamation of triumph, he drew toward him the heap of notes.

‘That was well done,’ said the stranger. ‘ You are an expert at cheating. But go on, I can beat you whether you play openly or dishonestly.’ Sturdivant said nothing, but dealt the cards again. The hand was played and Sturdivant was about to seize the stakes when the stranger laid down a card and checked him. The gambler uttered a sharp cry and sat motionless with his eyes fixed on the card, a worn and faded ace of hearts with a dark red stain across the face Sturdivant’s face worked convulsively as he gazed at it and the spectators closely around the two, wondering at the strange scene. ‘ln God’s name, who are you ?’ grasped Sturdivant, his eyes still fixed on the card. ‘ Look at me, ’ said the stranger, quietly. As if powerless to resist, Sturdivant raised his eyes to the speaker. The stranger had raised his hat and sat looking at the trembling man with eyes that fairly blazed with fury. Sturdivant uttered a groan and sank back in his chair, with his face white and rigid. The stranger with one sweep gathered up the money from the table and thrust It into his breast. ‘ That ace of hearts is an unlucky card for you, Daniel Sturdivant,’ he said, coldly. ‘ You played it once when you thought it to your advantage. Now God help you, for that play is returned 1’ As he spoke he raised a pistol which we had not seen, and before wo could stop him, aimed it de iberately at the trembling man and fired. The gambler fell heavily upon the table a corpse, and the bright blood streamed over it hiding the fatal card from sight. ‘ Gentlemen,’ said tire rising to his feet, as we stood paralyzed with horror at the dreadful scene, ‘that man ruined my wife and tried to murder me. I have been hunting for him ten years.’ He walked slowly by us down the stairway to the h'Wer deck. Ju“t then the steamer touched at a landing and he sprang ashore and vanished in the dark woods. I never learned the history of the mysterious affair, for the dead gambler was beyond human questioning, and I never saw the stranger again; but I shall not soon forget the impression it made upon me at the time.