*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79602 ***



[Illustration: Major Meeker’s hand plunged toward the six-shooter on the
bed]


THE GHOST OF GAMBLIN’ DAN

By James W. Egan

    Major Meeker had been a wild cow-puncher in his
    youth—but he little guessed what a terrifying
    figure would rise out of his dead and buried
    past to confront him


“Buzzin’ rattlers!”

With startling force, his queer pet expletive burst from the lips of my
uncle, Major Remington Meeker.

We were eating what the major defiantly called supper, in the small
dining room of the Aladdin Hotel. From where we sat it was possible to
gaze out upon the one dusty main street of the Arizona town—if the
eyesight was good. Apparently the windows had not been washed since the
days of the Apaches and pony express.

I had passed my uncle the gravy bowl. He was looking outside at the
moment, and the next thing I heard was his exclamation. He topped it off
by unseeingly tilting the bowl, spilling considerable gravy. However,
the table linen seemed used to such episodes.

“Burn yourself, major?” I asked. The bowl had been infernally hot.

“No, Pen, no. I just seen—”

The major paused. I could see it was something serious. He was disturbed
violently. His sun-dried features had paled. His long gray mustache
fluttered faintly. For the first time in the weeks I had known this
relative of mine, owner of the huge MRM ranch, he appeared bereft of his
customary autocratic composure. I expressed the thought which leaped
into my mind.

“Why, you look as if you’d seen a ghost!”

“Buzzin’ rattlers! I reckon I have, Pen. Yes, I’ve seen a ghost sure
enough!”

I surveyed him in perplexity. The major was a fairly tall, well set-up
man in the late fifties. Ever since coming out from Connecticut to visit
him I had heard stories about my uncle which indicated he was a man of
nerve, not easily shaken. He had fought with distinction in the
Spanish-American War and earned his ranking. He was credited with having
lived a wild, rough life in earlier days, when the West was considerably
wilder and rougher than now. Not a man, I’d say, to display agitation
without real cause.

“You can’t mean you’ve actually seen a ghost, major?” I said dubiously.

“Couldn’t have been nothin’ else. Dan Glade has been dead thirty years,
and yet I’ll swear I seen him goin’ along the street out there! I done
seen the ghost uh Gamblin’ Dan Glade!”

“Nonsense!” I scoffed. “Dead men don’t come back after thirty years.
Probably a case of chance resemblance. In all that time your memory of
this Dan Glade may have become dimmed. You saw somebody that looks like
him.”

Major Meeker shook his head.

“No, Pen, I couldn’t forget the face uh Gamblin’ Dan in a hundred years!
I tell yuh it was Dan or his ghost—I’d know his face outa thousands!”

“Well, I don’t believe in ghosts,” I stated firmly. “If you saw the man,
he’s alive. What reason have you for thinking him dead?”

                *       *       *       *       *

“Reason?” snapped Major Meeker. “Reason aplenty, Pen! I shot him down
myself!”

“You—shot him?” I gasped.

My uncle nodded.

“Thirty years ago I drawed on Dan Glade—and shot tuh kill!”

“And you are positive you killed him?”

“I wasn’t in the habit uh missin’ them days, Pen,” he said. “Yuh had tuh
get yuhr man, or he’d get you!”

While I had been long enough in Arizona to realize the peril of
questioning the marksmanship of an old-time gun handler like Major
Remington Meeker I decided to brave an outburst of wrath.

“And so you know for an absolute certainty your bullet ended the
existence of Glade? You saw him buried?”

Major Meeker frowned.

“Buzzin’ rattlers, no! After drillin’ him and seein’ him drop I made
m’self plum’ scarce. Wouldn’t been healthy tuh linger around there. I
shot Gamblin’ Dan in Tapwater, Texas, and I ain’t been within hundreds
uh miles uh the town from that day ’til this. I figured he was dead, and
acted accordin’!”

“Then,” I said triumphantly, “There is a bare possibility Dan Glade
didn’t die, and you saw no ghost just now, but a flesh-and-blood entity.
Provided, of course, you aren’t mistaken.”

“I ain’t!” asserted my uncle. “Mebbe he did pull through, Pen, but I
aimed tuh kill him. I’ve regretted that shootin’ for thirty years—the
hull affair ain’t one I can look back on with pride. That’s why I got
outa Tapwater in a hurry and steered clear uh the place ever since.”

“Sounds interesting, major,” I observed. “I’d like to hear more of the
details.”

The old ranchman sliced at his roast beef.

“Mebbe I oughta tell somebody,” he said, at length. “Kinda hate tuh,
though, for I’m plum’ ashamed uh the dirty trick I played. Reckon Dan
Glade oughta plugged me, Pen.”

“Perhaps you are unjust to yourself, major,” I hinted. My uncle’s
reputation for fair dealing was widespread through the Southwest.

“No, Pen, I was a lot younger and foolisher in them days. Soon’s we
finish eatin’ we can go upstairs tuh my room and I’ll tell yuh all about
it. While I’m talkin’ I can be oilin’ up the old gun, as well, for if
Dan Glade is livin’ and finds out I’m here he’s liable tuh come around
tuh settle scores.”

Possibly a quarter of an hour later Major Remington Meeker and myself
were in his second floor room. The major produced a new quart bottle of
whisky from his dresser drawer and poured out two stiff drinks. These
downed, he opened the bag he had brought from the ranch when we drove in
that morning and dragged forth a dark-barreled six-shooter. Dropping on
the bed, he began to examine the weapon critically as he talked.

                *       *       *       *       *

Gamblin’ Dan Glade and me—began my uncle—drifted intuh Tapwater about
the same time. We went tuh work on the Flyin’ O, a big ranch outside the
town, punchin’ cows. Like young jaspers will, we rid intuh Tapwater
whenever we could, and raised our fair share uh hell.

Dan was about my age, but built different. He was mebbe a head shorter
and kinda stocky. His face was big and round, and he had innocent
lookin’ brown eyes. They wasn’t so plum’ innocent as they looked, uh
course.

Dan’s rulin’ passion was gamblin’, as yuh might guess. He was willin’
tuh lay a bet on most anythin’ and he loved tuh play poker. He was
pretty lucky at cards, gen’ally; but he never got far ahead because he’d
take up a fool bet uh some kind and lose his poker winnin’s. His luck
held best at cards.

In them days I wasn’t known as Remington Meeker. Yuhr dad prob’ly told
yuh about me runnin’ away from home when I was in the sixth grade and
hittin’ for the West. I didn’t want tuh get found and took back home, so
I called myself Curly Black, mainly owin’ tuh the fact I had hair like
that when a youngster. I was goin’ by that handle when I hit Tapwater.

For a spell Dan and me was pretty good friends. But a few weeks after
hittin’ the Flyin’ O, come a split-up. Both uh us got stuck on the same
girl.

Buzzin’ rattlers, but there was a real woman for a man! Her name was
Maud Mayfield, and she lived right on the edge uh Tapwater. Her father
owned the stage route. A big strappin’ girl she was, nigh ontuh six foot
tall, strong and healthy. High-spirited and pretty, too, with snappin’
black eyes. Never seen no woman afore or since what took my eye like
Maud Mayfield. No, siree!

Well, Dan and me each made up our mind tuh win her. From the minute we
laid eyes on Maud it was each man for hisself. We started courtin’ in
dead earnest, and just about stopped speakin’ tuh each other.

At the end uh two months uh regular hangin’ around the Mayfield place
neither uh us had any advantage. She seemed tuh like one as well as the
other. Dan and me was gettin’ all on edge.

There’d been another hombre kinda sweet on Maud before we happened
along, feller by the name uh Lin Hawks. It appeared he’d never made no
progress, though. I don’t reckon he was the kind uh man who would. Hawks
was a perfessional gambler and s’posed tuh be somethin’ uh a gunman. He
was about as tall as me, with a mean, sneery sort uh face.

I say Hawks wasn’t a jasper Maud Mayfield would have any time for,
because she seemed a girl with strict moral idees. She said she didn’t
like gamblin’ or drinkin’ or even smokin’. Dan and me practic’ly swore
off tanglefoot and tobacco on her account, but Dan still gambled some.
Nothin’ could break him uh that.

Time dragged on, and Maud continued tuh hold us both at arm’s length. I
was gettin’ desprit, and so was Dan Glade. All our schemes tuh draw her
intuh decidin’ between us failed tuh work. Finally Dan come tuh me one
day at the ranch and says:

“Curly, we ain’t gainin’ a thing by both hangin’ around the Mayfield
place. I reckon Maud is sorta fond uh both uh us, and don’t want tuh
hurt no feelin’s by makin’ a choice. The oney thing tuh do is for one uh
us tuh quit.”

“Well, now, Dan, that’s right noble uh yuh,” I says, shovin’ out a paw.
“Maud and me will name the first—”

“Blast yuhr hide!” he yells, “I ain’t quittin’! Yuh got yuhr gall, yuh
long drink uh water!”

Buzzin’ rattlers! We come close tuh blows right there and then! But I
managed tuh ca’m m’self and ask what he meant.

“One uh us gotta drop out,” he repeats. “Are yuh game tuh gamble which
one that’ll be, Curly?”

                *       *       *       *       *

“Gamble how?” I says, kinda riled at his sneery tone.

“When we go intuh Tapwater tuh-night we’ll sit down in the Sam Houston
saloon and play one hand uh draw poker. The winner gets a clear field.”

I give him a laugh.

“Yes, we will! Don’t try tuh come no card sharpin’ on me, Dan Glade.
Think I’m plum’ loco?”

“I ain’t a card sharp, and yuh know it!” he returns. “Yuhr chance is
good as mine, Curly. Uh course, if yuh ain’t game—”

Buzzin’ rattlers! Yuh can figure how wild that made me, a hot-headed
young jasper.

“I’m as game as any man in Texas!” I bark.

“Then yuh’re willin’ tuh let the cards settle it?” he demands.

I didn’t answer right away. While I hated tuh have any hombre, least uh
all Gamblin’ Dan, question my gameness, I was terrible far gone on Maud
Mayfield. Tuh think uh losin’ a girl like her on a single hand uh poker
seemed plum’ foolish.

“Afraid, huh?” he taunts. “I don’t blame yuh. I’m pretty lucky at
cards.”

Well, I’d been thinkin’ fast, and all uh a sudden a idee flashed intuh
my head. I looked him straight in the eye.

“I’ll play yuh tuh-night!” I says, snappylike.

“May the best man win!” grins Dan Glade, kinda sarcastic.

The rest uh that day took a long while tuh pass, Pen. I reckon I never
did so much worryin’ in all my life. I was bound and determined tuh be
the winner uh that poker hand. I didn’t plan to lose a girl like Maud
Mayfield.

The Sam Houston saloon was a big place, the biggest drinkin’ and
gamblin’ house in Tapwater. Gamblin’ Dan and me walked in that evenin’
after the ride from the Flyin’ O, grim and business-like. I recolleck we
each took one glass uh whisky, our first in weeks, just tuh settle our
nerves a mite.

Then Dan called for a fresh pack uh cards and the pair uh us sat down at
a little corner table. We cut for deal, and Dan won. I might say we
wasn’t intendin’ tuh play pat hands. Each was privileged tuh draw the
number uh cards he wanted after the deal and discard.

Just as Dan was shufflin’ the pasteboards, with me watchin’ him mighty
close, somebody strolled up tuh our table. It was Lin Hawks, in his long
black coat and slouch hat. He had played a number uh times against Dan,
and perfessional or not, Hawks had lost more’n he won.

“Can I get in on this?” he asks, with that hard smile uh his.

“Sorry, Lin, but Curly and me gotta kinda special game on right now.
Mebbe later one uh us will join yuh at another table.”

“That’s all right, boys; go ahead.” Hawks give a careless wave uh the
hand and strolled on.

Gamblin’ Dan finished shufflin’ and I made a deep cut. He flipped out
five cards tuh me and hisself.

Pickin’ mine up, I seen I hadn’t done so bad. There was two pairs—kings
and nines. The fifth card was a six or seven uh hearts—I forget which.

Dan discarded three cards, and I knowed he had just a pair. Uh course,
three uh a kind would beat me. I was pretty darn shaky as I asked for
the one card I had comin’.

Just as he was dealin’ it, a couple girls in the dance hall started
pullin’ hair over somethin’, and he looked around at them as he throwed
me the pasteboard. Oney a second, but long enough—

I had arranged my hand, when I happened tuh glance up and catch the eyes
uh Lin Hawks, a few feet away. They were half sneerin’ and I wondered,
kinda uneasy, if he had been watchin’ me.

Gamblin’ Dan called me back tuh the game.

“It’s a showdown, Curly,” he says, eager. “Look at this! Queens full!”

He spread out his hand. He had a full house, all right—three queens and
a pair uh treys.

“Pretty good, but not good enough,” I tell him. I showed my hand. It was
another full, and a mite higher. Three kings and the nines.

His jaw dropped and he looked for a minute as if he couldn’t believe it.
I got on my feet.

“Sorry, Dan, but yuh made this card proposition yuhrself. Shake hands
and I’ll be ramblin’ along.”

“I didn’t think yuh could beat me!” he mutters, half tuh hisself.

But he shook hands and then I struck out for the Mayfield place.
Gamblin’ Dan Glade was still lookin’ dazed as I departed.

                *       *       *       *       *

I now had clear sailin’ far’s Maud Mayfield was concerned, but I wasn’t
so happy as I’d expected. I wondered just how much Lin Hawks had seen.

I got a disappointment when I reached the Mayfield place. Maud wasn’t
home. Her mother told me she’d gone for a trip on the stage with her dad
and wasn’t comin’ back until the next day.

Buzzin’ rattlers! I reckon I cussed all the way back tuh the main
section uh Tapwater. I decided I’d better have a coupla drinks. I
couldn’t see Maud this evenin’, anyway, and I was feelin’ the need uh
refreshment or somethin’.

I went intuh the Sam Houston and throwed three or four stiff doses uh
tanglefoot intuh my system. Neither Lin Hawks nor Gamblin’ Dan was in
sight. The fact both uh them was missin’ kinda worried me some. I’d just
called for another drink when the pair uh them come in from the street,
at the opposite end uh the bar.

I knowed immediate trouble was brewin’. One look at their faces told me
that. I figured Lin Hawks had seen everythin’ and passed it on tuh Dan.
I got ready tuh draw quick.

Yuh see, Pen, I’d been so blasted anxious tuh win out, I’d cheated.

When I set down tuh play I had several aces, kings and queens hid on me.
Gamblin’ Dan never dealt me a third king. The card I really got was a
small diamond. That second he looked away I made the switch in
pasteboards. Uh course, it was a lowdown, dirty trick, but I’d been
afraid uh Dan’s luck. And he nearly had beat me at that!

Lin Hawks musta caught me at it. I was positive he’d told Dan. He wore
his mean, sneery expression, and Dan’s face was set in hard lines.

All at once Hawks glanced in my direction and said somethin’ tuh the man
I’d cheated. Gamblin’ Dan swore, and his hand plunged tuh his hip. He
started tuh draw.

He never got the gun outa the holster. I was pretty fast in them days.
Whippin’ my perforater loose, I let him have it. I seen him fall and I
could swear I drilled him through the heart.

Before any one could stop me I’d tore outa the saloon. I heard Lin Hawks
yellin’ somethin’, but I wasn’t intrusted. I managed tuh reach my horse
and rid outa Tapwater hell-bent.

I never went back. Under the circumstances, I didn’t dare. And I knowed
I’d lost Maud Mayfield. A girl uh her strict moral idees would never
forgive what I done. I ain’t even heard uh her from that day till this,
Pen.

The war with Spain come along a few months after I got away from
Tapwater and I joined the army, givin’ my real name. When the fightin’
was over I drifted out here and went intuh the cattle business. Reckon
nobody knowed Remington Meeker and Curly Black was the same jasper.
Leastwise, I ain’t been bothered none. But I’ve never married, and mebbe
yuh know why now.

                *       *       *       *       *

My uncle paused, sighed. By the blankness of his eyes I realized his
thoughts were far-away.

Then, without warning, the door of the room was pushed open. A stocky
figure, with a wrinkling round visage and faded brown eyes, stepped
inside.

“Buzzin’ rattlers! Gamblin’ Dan, or a ghost!”

Major Meeker’s hand plunged toward the six-shooter on the bed. I shrank
back against the wall.

The newcomer threw up both hands.

“Yuh murderin’ ole fool, what’s the matter with yuh? Yuh dang near
killed me thirty years back, and the first moment yuh clap eyes on me
again yuh start in where yuh left off! I ain’t armed, Curly—though I
guess yuh got another handle these days.”

“Yuh ain’t got no gun?” My uncle was suspicious.

“Ain’t packed one for years,” affirmed the other. “No, sir, I ain’t
gunnin’ for nobody. I’m willin’ tuh let bygones be bygones, even though
yuh did me a lot uh dirt thirty years back.”

“How did yuh find me?” asked Major Meeker heavily.

“Seen yuh this afternoon, and begun figurin’ out why yuhr face was
familiar. Yuh’ve changed more’n me, ole-timer. Finally I decided yuh was
Curly Black, and then discovered Curly is now Major Remington Meeker.”

“It’s my name—my real name.”

“Uh huh! Well, yuh’ve done right well since yuh punched cows on the
Flyin’ O. I ain’t so bad off m’self—been in the oil business last ten
years.”

My uncle put down his gun. I drew a relieved breath. Bloodshed did not
appear imminent.

“This is my nephew, Penfield Meeker, just out from the East,” introduced
my relative. “I was tellin’ him about—about Tapwater. I spied yuh
through a hotel window an hour ago, Dan, and thought yuh was a ghost.”

“Yuh dang near made me one, and I don’t know why yet!” declared Dan
Glade. “Yuhr lead went too high in the chest, and I finally pulled
through. I got quite a bit uh nursin’, and soon’s I was able I married
my nurse.”

“Yuh mean Maud Mayfield?” Major Meeker’s mustache fluttered sadly. “So
yuh won her, after all! I reckon it was fate!”

“A dang crool fate, if yuh ask me!” sourly remarked Gamblin’ Dan. “Yuh
really won her yuhrself, Curly, and three months after the knot was tied
I was beginnin’ tuh wish yuh had her! How that woman deceived us! Her
high spirits was high temper, and she was a reg’lar fury when she got
mad, which was most uh the time. She would throw things, anythin’ she
could lay hands on. She had me hoppin’ for my life seven days a week!
Honest, I put in two years uh misery, and then Lin Hawks, that tinhorn
gambler, come back tuh town. He’d left a coupla days after yuh shot me,
owin’ tuh some trouble at the Sam Houston. Well, yuh know he’d been soft
on her afore we started stickin’ around, and when he come back he got
her tuh run away with him. I never went after ’em. Not me! I was tickled
plum’ tuh death. Never seen either uh them since and never want tuh. But
I’ll bet Lin Hawks was a sorry hombre!”

                *       *       *       *       *

My uncle was staring at Dan Glade in horrified disbelief.

“Maud turned out like that?” he gasped.

“I’m givin’ yuh the gospel truth! Yuh sure saved yuhrself a lot uh
misery by shootin’ me and leavin’ me tuh her tender mercies, though yuh
may not’ve knowed it. But why in blazes did yuh try tuh kill me? Yuh had
no reason, dang it! Yuh’d won, fair and square—”

“Fair and square?” cut in my uncle. “Buzzin’ rattlers! I thought Lin
Hawks told yuh! Didn’t yuh know I’d cheated?”

“Cheated? Yuh cheated?” Dan Glade’s amazement was genuine.

“Yes, I cheated!” said Major Meeker. “Yuh looked away for a second and I
slipped an extra king I had hid away intuh my hand and made the full
house. I was bound and determined not tuh lose out. But I was sure Lin
Hawks had seen me pull the trick. And when yuh and him come back intuh
the Sam Houston he sneered and looked at me. Then yuh started drawin’,
so I figured yuh’d got wise. That’s why I shot!”

The countenance of Gamblin’ Dan mirrored varied emotions for a moment or
two. Finally he dropped to the bed and began to laugh. His stocky figure
shook with mirth.

“What a pair uh dang fools we was!” he said, wiping his eyes. “All that
we went through on account uh that deceivin’ woman! Why, yuh hasty ole
galoot, Lin Hawks wasn’t tellin’ me yuh cheated. He was threatenin’ me!
Got me so mad I was startin’ tuh draw on him an’ nobody else!”

“Threatenin’ yuh?” snapped Major Meeker. “I seen him look right at me,
Dan!”

Gamblin’ Dan Glade sighed.

“Reckon I might as well unbosom m’self. I was powerful anxious tuh win
that night, too. So I come prepared. On the first draw I got just a pair
uh treys and I didn’t help it none. I added three queens I had
convenient. I was afraid four uh a kind would look too raw, and I
figured a full would beat yuh, anyhow. I got the idee yuh was drawin’
tuh a flush or straight and hadn’t made it. But yuh fooled me! It was
_me_ Lin Hawks seen cheatin’—not you! I’d won a bit uh money from him in
the past, and he jumped tuh the conclusion it was a habit uh mine tuh
stack the cards. Yuh saw him threatenin’ me later on that account. He
got plum’ nasty and said he’d tell yuh what he’d caught me doin’. I was
riled and reachin’ for a gun tuh use on him when yuh plugged me.”

Major Meeker sat agape for an instant. Then his eyes began to blaze.

“Buzzin’ rattlers! Yuh’re a bigger crook’n me! No wonder Maud couldn’t
live with yuh! Why, I got a blame good notion tuh—”

Hastily, I intervened. Seizing the quart bottle on the dresser I
flourished it before the eyes of the old-timers.

“That was thirty years ago, boys! If there must be any further shots,
let’s get them out of this!”


[Notes on the Text: This story appeared in _Argosy All-Story Weekly_,
January 26, 1929. It is believed to be in the public domain in the
United States; copyright status may differ in other countries.]




*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79602 ***