Dunlap and I got on the steamer Paragoad one evening at Baton Rouge, and seeing no one of board that I thought was of any particular service to me, I got a bottle of wine and a good cigar and was sitting in the hall, when a coal merchant whom I knew very well in Baton Rouge came along, and seeing me said:

“Devol, this is rather a slim trip for your business.”

Laughingly I replied, “Yes.”

“But that don’t hinder us from taking a drink together, does it?”

“I have just had one, thank you.”

He insisted, and I did not hang back; so, after smoking, we sat down near the bar, when he remarked that this was the first boat he ever was on where they didn’t have a game of poker. I thought myself it was something strange, as in those days everybody played cards. At last we got to throwing for the drinks, when he finally remarked that if there were one or two more around we might have a good game of poker. Though I said I didn’t care to play, as I was sleepy, yet he persisted. Along came Dunlap, whom he did not know, and I asked him if he ever played poker. He replied a little, when he was at home in Illinois.

“Come on, then, and take a drink,” said the coal man.

I gave Dunlap the wink, and excusing himself for a moment he went to his room, and procuring a pack of marked cards gave them to the barkeeper. When he came in, the coal man at once began:

“Sit down, and we’ll make up a game.”

Then Dunlap asked the barkeeper for some cards, and of course the marked pack was handed out. It was then half-past 12 o’clock. We started in at a $20 limit, and played until the table was needed for breakfast. The coal man and myself were both losers. He said he lost $2,300. I lost $900, but as I lost it to my partner, I was not broken-hearted.