Larger Font   Reset Font Size   Smaller Font  

Smoke Bellew, Page 4

Jack London

  IV. SHORTY DREAMS.

  "Funny you don't gamble none," Shorty said to Smoke one night in theElkhorn. "Ain't it in your blood?"

  "It is," Smoke answered. "But the statistics are in my head. I like aneven break for my money."

  All about them, in the huge bar-room, arose the click and rattle andrumble of a dozen games, at which fur-clad, moccasined men tried theirluck. Smoke waved his hand to include them all.

  "Look at them," he said. "It's cold mathematics that they will lose morethan they win to-night, that the big proportion are losing right now."

  "You're sure strong on figgers," Shorty murmured admiringly. "An' inthe main you're right. But they's such a thing as facts. An' one fact isstreaks of luck. They's times when every geezer playin' wins, as I know,for I've sat in such games an' saw more'n one bank busted. The only wayto win at gamblin' is wait for a hunch that you've got a lucky streakcomin' and then play it to the roof."

  "It sounds simple," Smoke criticized. "So simple I can't see how men canlose."

  "The trouble is," Shorty admitted, "that most men gets fooled on theirhunches. On occasion I sure get fooled on mine. The thing is to try an'find out."

  Smoke shook his head. "That's a statistic, too, Shorty. Most men provewrong on their hunches."

  "But don't you ever get one of them streaky feelin's that all you got todo is put your money down an' pick a winner?"

  Smoke laughed. "I'm too scared of the percentage against me. But I'lltell you what, Shorty. I'll throw a dollar on the 'high card' right nowand see if it will buy us a drink."

  Smoke was edging his way in to the faro table, when Shorty caught hisarm.

  "Hold on. I'm gettin' one of them hunches now. You put that dollar onroulette."

  They went over to a roulette table near the bar.

  "Wait till I give the word," Shorty counselled.

  "What number?" Smoke asked.

  "Pick it yourself. But wait till I say let her go."

  "You don't mean to say I've got an even chance on that table?" Smokeargued.

  "As good as the next geezer's."

  "But not as good as the bank's."

  "Wait an' see," Shorty urged. "Now! Let her go!"

  The game-keeper had just sent the little ivory ball whirling around thesmooth rim above the revolving, many-slotted wheel. Smoke, at the lowerend of the table, reached over a player, and blindly tossed the dollar.It slid along the smooth, green cloth and stopped fairly in the centerof "34."

  The ball came to rest, and the game-keeper announced, "Thirty-fourwins!" He swept the table, and alongside of Smoke's dollar, stackedthirty-five dollars. Smoke drew the money in, and Shorty slapped him onthe shoulder.

  "Now, that was the real goods of a hunch, Smoke! How'd I know it?There's no tellin'. I just knew you'd win. Why, if that dollar ofyourn'd fell on any other number it'd won just the same. When the hunchis right, you just can't help winnin'."

  "Suppose it had come 'double naught'?" Smoke queried, as they made theirway to the bar.

  "Then your dollar'd been on 'double naught,'" was Shorty's answer."They's no gettin' away from it. A hunch is a hunch. Here's how. Come onback to the table. I got a hunch, after pickin' you for a winner, that Ican pick some few numbers myself."

  "Are you playing a system?" Smoke asked, at the end of ten minutes, whenhis partner had dropped a hundred dollars.

  Shorty shook his head indignantly, as he spread his chips out in thevicinities of "3," "11," and "17," and tossed a spare chip on the green.

  "Hell is sure cluttered with geezers that played systems," he exposited,as the keeper raked the table.

  From idly watching, Smoke became fascinated, following closely everydetail of the game from the whirling of the ball to the making and thepaying of the bets. He made no plays, however, merely contenting himselfwith looking on. Yet so interested was he, that Shorty, announcing thathe had had enough, with difficulty drew Smoke away from the table.

  The game-keeper returned Shorty the gold-sack he had deposited as acredential for playing, and with it went a slip of paper on which wasscribbled, "Out--$350.00." Shorty carried the sack and the paper acrossthe room and handed them to the weigher, who sat behind a large pairof gold-scales. Out of Shorty's sack he weighed three hundred and fiftydollars, which he poured into the coffer of the house.

  "That hunch of yours was another one of those statistics," Smoke jeered.

  "I had to play it, didn't I, in order to find out?" Shorty retorted."I reckon I was crowdin' some just on account of tryin' to convince youthey's such a thing as hunches."

  "Never mind, Shorty," Smoke laughed. "I've got a hunch right now--"

  Shorty's eyes sparkled as he cried eagerly: "What is it? Kick in an'play it pronto."

  "It's not that kind, Shorty. Now, what I've got is a hunch that some dayI'll work out a system that will beat the spots off that table."

  "System!" Shorty groaned, then surveyed his partner with a vast pity."Smoke, listen to your side-kicker an' leave system alone. Systems issure losers. They ain't no hunches in systems."

  "That's why I like them," Smoke answered. "A system is statistical.When you get the right system you can't lose, and that's the differencebetween it and a hunch. You never know when the right hunch is goingwrong."

  "But I know a lot of systems that went wrong, an' I never seen a systemwin." Shorty paused and sighed. "Look here, Smoke, if you're gettin'cracked on systems this ain't no place for you, an' it's about time wehit the trail again."

  During the several following weeks, the two partners played at crosspurposes. Smoke was bent on spending his time watching the roulette gamein the Elkhorn, while Shorty was equally bent on travelling trail.At last Smoke put his foot down when a stampede was proposed for twohundred miles down the Yukon.

  "Look here, Shorty," he said, "I'm not going. That trip will take tendays, and before that time I hope to have my system in proper workingorder. I could almost win with it now. What are you dragging me aroundthe country this way for, anyway?"

  "Smoke, I got to take care of you," was Shorty's reply. "You're gettin'nutty. I'd drag you stampedin' to Jericho or the North Pole if I couldkeep you away from that table."

  "It's all right, Shorty. But just remember I've reached full man-grown,meat-eating size. The only dragging you'll do, will be dragging home thedust I'm going to win with that system of mine, and you'll most likelyhave to do it with a dog-team."

  Shorty's response was a groan.

  "And I don't want you to be bucking any games on your own," Smoke wenton. "We're going to divide the winnings, and I'll need all our money toget started. That system's young yet, and it's liable to trip me for afew falls before I get it lined up."

  At last, after long hours and days spent at watching the table, thenight came when Smoke proclaimed he was ready, and Shorty, glumand pessimistic, with all the seeming of one attending a funeral,accompanied his partner to the Elkhorn. Smoke bought a stack of chipsand stationed himself at the game-keeper's end of the table. Again andagain the ball was whirled, and the other players won or lost, but Smokedid not venture a chip. Shorty waxed impatient.

  "Buck in, buck in," he urged. "Let's get this funeral over. What's thematter? Got cold feet?"

  Smoke shook his head and waited. A dozen plays went by, and then,suddenly, he placed ten one-dollar chips on "26." The number won, andthe keeper paid Smoke three hundred and fifty dollars. A dozen playswent by, twenty plays, and thirty, when Smoke placed ten dollars on"32." Again he received three hundred and fifty dollars.

  "It's a hunch!" Shorty whispered vociferously in his ear. "Ride it! Rideit!"

  Half an hour went by, during which Smoke was inactive, then he placedten dollars on "34" and won.

  "A hunch!" Shorty whispered.

  "Nothing of the sort," Smoke whispered back. "It's the system. Isn't shea dandy?"

  "You can't tell me," Shorty contended. "Hunches comes in mightyfunny ways. You might think it's a system, but it ain't. Systems isimpossible. They can't
happen. It's a sure hunch you're playin'."

  Smoke now altered his play. He bet more frequently, with single chips,scattered here and there, and he lost more often than he won.

  "Quit it," Shorty advised. "Cash in. You've rung the bull's-eye threetimes, an' you're ahead a thousand. You can't keep it up."

  At this moment the ball started whirling, and Smoke dropped ten chips on"26." The ball fell into the slot of "26," and the keeper again paid himthree hundred and fifty dollars.

  "If you're plum crazy an' got the immortal cinch, bet 'em the limit,"Shorty said. "Put down twenty-five next time."

  A quarter of an hour passed, during which Smoke won and lost on smallscattering bets. Then, with the abruptness that characterized his bigbetting, he placed twenty-five dollars on the "double naught," and thekeeper paid him eight hundred and seventy-five dollars.

  "Wake me up, Smoke, I'm dreamin'," Shorty moaned.

  Smoke smiled, consulted his notebook, and became absorbed incalculation. He continually drew the notebook from his pocket, and fromtime to time jotted down figures.

  A crowd had packed densely around the table, while the playersthemselves were attempting to cover the same numbers he covered. It wasthen that a change came over his play. Ten times in succession he placedten dollars on "18" and lost. At this stage he was deserted by thehardiest. He changed his number and won another three hundred and fiftydollars. Immediately the players were back with him, deserting againafter a series of losing bets.

  "Quit it, Smoke, quit it," Shorty advised. "The longest string ofhunches is only so long, an' your string's finished. No more bull's-eyesfor you."

  "I'm going to ring her once again before I cash in," Smoke answered.

  For a few minutes, with varying luck, he played scattering chips overthe table, and then dropped twenty-five dollars on the "double naught."

  "I'll take my slip now," he said to the dealer, as he won.

  "Oh, you don't need to show it to me," Shorty said, as they walked tothe weigher. "I been keepin' track. You're something like thirty-sixhundred to the good. How near am I?"

  "Thirty-six-sixty," Smoke replied. "And now you've got to pack the dusthome. That was the agreement."

  "Don't crowd your luck," Shorty pleaded with Smoke, the next night, inthe cabin, as he evidenced preparations to return to the Elkhorn. "Youplayed a mighty long string of hunches, but you played it out. If you goback you'll sure drop all your winnings."

  "But I tell you it isn't hunches, Shorty. It's statistics. It's asystem. It can't lose."

  "System be damned. They ain't no such a thing as system. I madeseventeen straight passes at a crap table once. Was it system? Nope. Itwas fool luck, only I had cold feet an' didn't dast let it ride. If it'drid, instead of me drawin' down after the third pass, I'd 'a' won overthirty thousan' on the original two-bit piece."

  "Just the same, Shorty, this is a real system."

  "Huh! You got to show me."

  "I did show you. Come on with me now, and I'll show you again."

  When they entered the Elkhorn, all eyes centered on Smoke, and thoseabout the table made way for him as he took up his old place at thekeeper's end. His play was quite unlike that of the previous night. Inthe course of an hour and a half he made only four bets, but each betwas for twenty-five dollars, and each bet won. He cashed in thirty-fivehundred dollars, and Shorty carried the dust home to the cabin.

  "Now's the time to jump the game," Shorty advised, as he sat on the edgeof his bunk and took off his moccasins. "You're seven thousan' ahead. Aman's a fool that'd crowd his luck harder."

  "Shorty, a man would be a blithering lunatic if he didn't keep onbacking a winning system like mine."

  "Smoke, you're a sure bright boy. You're college-learnt. You know more'na minute than I could know in forty thousan' years. But just the sameyou're dead wrong when you call your luck a system. I've been aroundsome, an' seen a few, an' I tell you straight an' confidential an'all-assurin', a system to beat a bankin' game ain't possible."

  "But I'm showing you this one. It's a pipe."

  "No, you're not, Smoke. It's a pipe-dream. I'm asleep. Bimeby I'll wakeup, an' build the fire, an' start breakfast."

  "Well, my unbelieving friend, there's the dust. Heft it."

  So saying, Smoke tossed the bulging gold-sack upon his partner's knees.It weighed thirty-five pounds, and Shorty was fully aware of the crushof its impact on his flesh.

  "It's real," Smoke hammered his point home.

  "Huh! I've saw some mighty real dreams in my time. In a dream all thingsis possible. In real life a system ain't possible. Now, I ain't neverbeen to college, but I'm plum justified in sizin' up this gamblin' orgyof ourn as a sure-enough dream."

  "Hamilton's 'Law of Parsimony,'" Smoke laughed.

  "I ain't never heard of the geezer, but his dope's sure right. I'mdreamin', Smoke, an' you're just snoopin' around in my dream an'tormentin' me with system. If you love me, if you sure do love me,you'll just yell, 'Shorty! Wake up!' An' I'll wake up an' startbreakfast."

  The third night of play, as Smoke laid his first bet, the game-keepershoved fifteen dollars back to him.

  "Ten's all you can play," he said. "The limit's come down."

  "Gettin' picayune," Shorty sneered.

  "No one has to play at this table that don't want to," the keeperretorted. "And I'm willing to say straight out in meeting that we'dsooner your pardner didn't play at our table."

  "Scared of his system, eh?" Shorty challenged, as the keeper paid overthree hundred and fifty dollars.

  "I ain't saying I believe in system, because I don't. There never wasa system that'd beat roulette or any percentage game. But just the sameI've seen some queer strings of luck, and I ain't going to let this bankgo bust if I can help it."

  "Cold feet."

  "Gambling is just as much business, my friend, as any other business. Weain't philanthropists."

  Night by night, Smoke continued to win. His method of play varied.Expert after expert, in the jam about the table, scribbled down his betsand numbers in vain attempts to work out his system. They complained oftheir inability to get a clew to start with, and swore that it was pureluck, though the most colossal streak of it they had ever seen.

  It was Smoke's varied play that obfuscated them. Sometimes, consultinghis note-book or engaging in long calculations, an hour elapsed withouthis staking a chip. At other times he would win three limit-bets andclean up a thousand dollars and odd in five or ten minutes. At stillother times, his tactics would be to scatter single chips prodigallyand amazingly over the table. This would continue for from ten to thirtyminutes of play, when, abruptly, as the ball whirled through the lastfew of its circles, he would play the limit on column, colour, andnumber, and win all three. Once, to complete confusion in the minds ofthose that strove to divine his secret, he lost forty straight bets,each at the limit. But each night, play no matter how diversely, Shortycarried home thirty-five hundred dollars for him.

  "It ain't no system," Shorty expounded at one of their bed-goingdiscussions. "I follow you, an' follow you, but they ain't no figgerin'it out. You never play twice the same. All you do is pick winners whenyou want to, an' when you don't want to, you just on purpose don't."

  "Maybe you're nearer right than you think, Shorty. I've just got to picklosers sometimes. It's part of the system."

  "System--hell! I've talked with every gambler in town, an' the last oneis agreed they ain't no such thing as system."

  "Yet I'm showing them one all the time."

  "Look here, Smoke." Shorty paused over the candle, in the act of blowingit out. "I'm real irritated. Maybe you think this is a candle. It ain't.No, sir! An' this ain't me neither. I'm out on trail somewheres, in myblankets, lyin' flat on my back with my mouth open, an' dreamin' allthis. That ain't you talkin', any more than this candle is a candle."

  "It's funny, how I happen to be dreaming along with you then," Smokepersisted.

  "No, it ain't. You're part of my dream, that's all. I'v
e hearn many aman talk in my dreams. I want to tell you one thing, Smoke. I'm gettin'mangy an' mad. If this here dream keeps up much more I'm goin' to bitemy veins an' howl."

  On the sixth night of play at the Elkhorn, the limit was reduced to fivedollars.

  "It's all right," Smoke assured the game-keeper. "I want thirty-fivehundred to-night, as usual, and you only compel me to play longer. I'vegot to pick twice as many winners, that's all."

  "Why don't you buck somebody else's table?" the keeper demandedwrathfully.

  "Because I like this one." Smoke glanced over to the roaring stove onlya few feet away. "Besides, there are no draughts here, and it is warmand comfortable."

  On the ninth night, when Shorty had carried the dust home, he had a fit."I quit, Smoke, I quit," he began. "I know when I got enough. I ain'tdreamin'. I'm wide awake. A system can't be, but you got one just thesame. There's nothin' in the rule o' three. The almanac's clean out.The world's gone smash. There's nothin' regular an' uniform no more.The multiplication table's gone loco. Two is eight, nine is eleven, andtwo-times-six is eight hundred an' forty-six--an'--an' a half.Anything is everything, an' nothing's all, an' twice all is cold-cream,milk-shakes, an' calico horses. You've got a system. Figgers beat thefiggerin'. What ain't is, an' what isn't has to be. The sun rises in thewest, the moon's a pay-streak, the stars is canned corn-beef, scurvy'sthe blessin' of God, him that dies kicks again, rocks floats, water'sgas, I ain't me, you're somebody else, an' mebbe we're twins if we ain'thashed-brown potatoes fried in verdigris. Wake me up! Somebody! Oh! Wakeme up!"

  The next morning a visitor came to the cabin. Smoke knew him, HarveyMoran, the owner of all the games in the Tivoli. There was a note ofappeal in his deep gruff voice as he plunged into his business.

  "It's like this, Smoke," he began. "You've got us all guessing. I'mrepresenting nine other game-owners and myself from all the saloons intown. We don't understand. We know that no system ever worked againstroulette. All the mathematic sharps in the colleges have told usgamblers the same thing. They say that roulette itself is the system,the one and only system, and, therefore, that no system can beat it, forthat would mean arithmetic has gone bug-house."

  Shorty nodded his head violently.

  "If a system can beat a system, then there's no such thing as system,"the gambler went on. "In such a case anything could be possible--a thingcould be in two different places at once, or two things could be in thesame place that's only large enough for one at the same time."

  "Well, you've seen me play," Smoke answered defiantly; "and if you thinkit's only a string of luck on my part, why worry?"

  "That's the trouble. We can't help worrying. It's a system you've got,and all the time we know it can't be. I've watched you five nights now,and all I can make out is that you favour certain numbers and keep onwinning. Now the ten of us game-owners have got together, and we want tomake a friendly proposition. We'll put a roulette-table in a back roomof the Elkhorn, pool the bank against you, and have you buck us. It willbe all quiet and private. Just you and Shorty and us. What do you say?"

  "I think it's the other way around," Smoke answered. "It's up to you tocome and see me. I'll be playing in the barroom of the Elkhorn to-night.You can watch me there just as well."

  That night, when Smoke took up his customary place at the table,the keeper shut down the game. "The game's closed," he said. "Boss'sorders."

  But the assembled game-owners were not to be balked. In a few minutesthey arranged a pool, each putting in a thousand, and took over thetable.

  "Come on and buck us," Harvey Moran challenged, as the keeper sent theball on its first whirl around.

  "Give me the twenty-five limit," Smoke suggested.

  "Sure; go to it."

  Smoke immediately placed twenty-five chips on the "double naught," andwon.

  Moran wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Go on," he said. "We got tenthousand in this bank."

  At the end of an hour and a half, the ten thousand was Smoke's.

  "The bank's bust," the keeper announced.

  "Got enough?" Smoke asked.

  The game-owners looked at one another. They were awed. They, the fattedproteges of the laws of chance, were undone. They were up against onewho had more intimate access to those laws, or who had invoked higherand undreamed laws.

  "We quit," Moran said. "Ain't that right, Burke?"

  Big Burke, who owned the games in the M. and G. Saloon, nodded. "Theimpossible has happened," he said. "This Smoke here has got a system allright. If we let him go on we'll all bust. All I can see, if we're goin'to keep our tables running, is to cut down the limit to a dollar, or toten cents, or a cent. He won't win much in a night with such stakes."

  All looked at Smoke.

  He shrugged his shoulders. "In that case, gentlemen, I'll have to hire agang of men to play at all your tables. I can pay them ten dollars for afour-hour shift and make money."

  "Then we'll shut down our tables," Big Burke replied. "Unless--" Hehesitated and ran his eye over his fellows to see that they were withhim. "Unless you're willing to talk business. What will you sell thesystem for?"

  "Thirty thousand dollars," Smoke answered. "That's a tax of threethousand apiece."

  They debated and nodded.

  "And you'll tell us your system?"

  "Surely."

  "And you'll promise not to play roulette in Dawson ever again?"

  "No, sir," Smoke said positively. "I'll promise not to play this systemagain."

  "My God!" Moran exploded. "You haven't got other systems, have you?"

  "Hold on!" Shorty cried. "I want to talk to my pardner. Come over here,Smoke, on the side."

  Smoke followed into a quiet corner of the room, while hundreds ofcurious eyes centered on him and Shorty.

  "Look here, Smoke," Shorty whispered hoarsely. "Mebbe it ain't a dream.In which case you're sellin' out almighty cheap. You've sure got theworld by the slack of its pants. They's millions in it. Shake it! Shakeit hard!"

  "But if it's a dream?" Smoke queried softly.

  "Then, for the sake of the dream an' the love of Mike, stick themgamblers up good and plenty. What's the good of dreamin' if you can'tdream to the real right, dead sure, eternal finish?"

  "Fortunately, this isn't a dream, Shorty."

  "Then if you sell out for thirty thousan', I'll never forgive you."

  "When I sell out for thirty thousand, you'll fall on my neck an' wakeup to find out that you haven't been dreaming at all. This is no dream,Shorty. In about two minutes you'll see you have been wide awake all thetime. Let me tell you that when I sell out it's because I've got to sellout."

  Back at the table, Smoke informed the game-owners that his offer stillheld. They proffered him their paper to the extent of three thousandeach.

  "Hold out for the dust," Shorty cautioned.

  "I was about to intimate that I'd take the money weighed out," Smokesaid.

  The owner of the Elkhorn cashed their paper, and Shorty took possessionof the gold-dust.

  "Now, I don't want to wake up," he chortled, as he hefted the varioussacks. "Toted up, it's a seventy thousan' dream. It'd be too blamedexpensive to open my eyes, roll out of the blankets, an' startbreakfast."

  "What's your system?" Big Burke demanded. "We've paid for it, and wewant it."

  Smoke led the way to the table. "Now, gentlemen, bear with me a moment.This isn't an ordinary system. It can scarcely be called legitimate, butits one great virtue is that it works. I've got my suspicious, but I'mnot saying anything. You watch. Mr. Keeper, be ready with the ball.Wait. I am going to pick '26.' Consider I've bet on it. Be ready, Mr.Keeper--Now!"

  The ball whirled around.

  "You observe," Smoke went on, "that '9' was directly opposite."

  The ball finished in "26."

  Big Burke swore deep in his chest, and all waited.

  "For 'double naught' to win, '11' must be opposite. Try it yourself andsee."

  "But the system?" Moran demanded impatiently. "
We know you can pickwinning numbers, and we know what those numbers are; but how do you doit?"

  "By observed sequences. By accident I chanced twice to notice the ballwhirled when '9' was opposite. Both times '26' won. After that I saw ithappen again. Then I looked for other sequences, and found them. 'Doublenaught' opposite fetches '32,' and '11' fetches 'double naught.'It doesn't always happen, but it USUALLY happens. You notice, I say'usually.' As I said before, I have my suspicions, but I'm not sayinganything."

  Big Burke, with a sudden flash of comprehension reached over, stoppedthe wheel, and examined it carefully. The heads of the nine othergame-owners bent over and joined in the examination. Big Burkestraightened up and cast a glance at the near-by stove.

  "Hell," he said. "It wasn't any system at all. The table stood closeto the fire, and the blamed wheel's warped. And we've been worked to afrazzle. No wonder he liked this table. He couldn't have bucked for sourapples at any other table."

  Harvey Moran gave a great sigh of relief and wiped his forehead. "Well,anyway," he said, "it's cheap at the price just to find out thatit wasn't a system." His face began to work, and then he broke intolaughter and slapped Smoke on the shoulder. "Smoke, you had us going fora while, and we patting ourselves on the back because you were lettingour tables alone! Say, I've got some real fizz I'll open if you'll allcome over to the Tivoli with me."

  Later, back in the cabin, Shorty silently overhauled and hefted thevarious bulging gold-sacks. He finally piled them on the table, sat downon the edge of his bunk, and began taking off his moccasins.

  "Seventy thousan'," he calculated. "It weighs three hundred and fiftypounds. And all out of a warped wheel an' a quick eye. Smoke, youeat'm raw, you eat'm alive, you work under water, you've given me thejim-jams; but just the same I know it's a dream. It's only in dreamsthat the good things comes true. I'm almighty unanxious to wake up. Ihope I never wake up."

  "Cheer up," Smoke answered. "You won't. There are a lot of philosophysharps that think men are sleep-walkers. You're in good company."

  Shorty got up, went to the table, selected the heaviest sack, andcuddled it in his arms as if it were a baby. "I may be sleep-walkin',"he said, "but as you say, I'm sure in mighty good company."