Spades [pp. 183-190]

SPADES.
breast of this feminine element whispered that something must be wrong,
from the very fact that the ladies traveled without a male protector. Contact
with the world had sharpened the wits
of Madam Perron, who, learning that
the Clarks -the most influential family
at Snedaker's-were relatives of some
old pupils of hers in San Francisco, called to tell them about their nieces, and
so won their respect and good-will that
Mrs. Clark, with but little urging, joined
the school. The battle was won, and the
new idea was hugged with such warmth
that each woman believed the scheme for
a dancing-school to have originated with
herself. Success being assured, the dancing - school fell into the routine of a
weekly event, and was looked forward
to, and prepared for, as a season of enjoyment by all, with one solitary exception.
Every mining- camp had, as every
town has, its mystery, its human poser,
its strange man or woman, who, not
moved by recognized or permitted motives, must needs be an outlaw, a savage, and one seemingly outside the pale
of Christian influence. Snedaker's had
within her precincts a man, nearing the
grand climacteric of life, who was yet
youthful in daring and deed. He was a
border man, and had migrated early to
Texas; he passed through the Mexican
War, and at its close found himself in
California. He bore about with him the
grizzly evidences of fervid suns and
bleaching colds. The things which
touch the hearts of most men he could
look upon in cold disdain; yet it was
said that once he laid a caressing hand
upon the sunny head of Steve Parsons,
and something like a far-off memory stirred within the depths of his stony eyes.
All knew that Steve never lacked for
money, and that he was always extricated from the consequences of his rash
actions. This strange man could swear
with polished blasphemy, yet never de
scend to vulgarity; he gambled with
cut-throats and the lowest of his species,
yet he had never been seen in a soiled
shirt; many a time penniless, he had
never complained of luck; and though
he lived alone in his cabin, he had never
whined for the companionship of man or
woman. One pursuit engrossed him:
gambling. He was a gambler: not one
of those wretched frauds, dependent
upon tricks and cunning for success;
not one of those debased beings, who
profit by material cheats, by marked
cards, and devices akin thereto. He
looked deeper for the gauge of his wager,
and saw, in the faces of the men about
him, signs o,the manner of hand he had
to cope with. It was claimed by the fraternity, that he used in it only what the
merchant-prince uses in his-sagacityand the long-headed judgment that perceives, through the signs of the times, the
coming misfortunes of others. These
were the merits of the gambler, and their
fullest exercise left him subject to the
desperate chances that attend all of the
profession. In the early days of California, familiarity with the use of deadly
weapons was a necessary accomplishment of a gambler; and few were they
who plied the vocation for any length of
time without being engaged in murderous
broils. From Texas and Mexico stories
of homicides followed the chief of the fraternity at Snedaker's; but, as they had no
odor of assassination, and as testimony
was always borne to his dauntless courage, and his sense of justice which impelled him to give to his opponent a
chance.equal to his own, they threw a
glamour about him, that much resembled glory. Fame, such as this, shielded
him from minor quarrels, and obviated
the necessity of resenting trivial insults,
but exposed him to the attacks of desperate men, who then abounded on the
borders of civilization, and in whose
presence it was a mortal crime to say,
"I am chief." What there is of terri
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