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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 297 pages of information about The Log of a Cowboy.
’77.  Collins had driven a herd of cattle for his father and brother, and after selling them in the Black Hills, gambled away the proceeds.  Some five or six of his outfit returned to Ogalalla with him, and being moneyless, concluded to recoup their losses at the expense of the railway company.  Going eighteen miles up the river to Big Springs, seven of them robbed the express and passengers, the former yielding sixty thousand dollars in gold.  The next morning they were in Ogalalla, paying debts, and getting their horses shod.  In Collins’s outfit was Sam Bass, and under his leadership, until he met his death the following spring at the hands of Texas Rangers, the course of the outfit southward was marked by a series of daring bank and train robberies.

We reached the river late that evening, and after watering, grazed until dark and camped for the night.  But it was not to be a night of rest and sleep, for the lights were twinkling across the river in town; and cook, horse wrangler, and all, with the exception of the first guard, rode across the river after the herd had been bedded.  Flood had quit us while we were watering the herd and gone in ahead to get a draft cashed, for he was as moneyless as the rest of us.  But his letter of credit was good anywhere on the trail where money was to be had, and on reaching town, he took us into a general outfitting store and paid us twenty-five dollars apiece.  After warning us to be on hand at the wagon to stand our watches, he left us, and we scattered like lost sheep.  Officer and I paid our loans to The Rebel, and the three of us wandered around for several hours in company with Nat Straw.  When we were in Dodge, my bunkie had shown no inclination to gamble, but now he was the first one to suggest that we make up a “cow,” and let him try his luck at monte.  Straw and Officer were both willing, and though in rags, I willingly consented and contributed my five to the general fund.

Every gambling house ran from two to three monte layouts, as it was a favorite game of cowmen, especially when they were from the far southern country.  Priest soon found a game to his liking, and after watching his play through several deals, Officer and I left him with the understanding that he would start for camp promptly at midnight.  There was much to be seen, though it was a small place, for the ends of the earth’s iniquity had gathered in Ogalalla.  We wandered through the various gambling houses, drinking moderately, meeting an occasional acquaintance from Texas, and in the course of our rounds landed in the Dew-Drop-In dance hall.  Here might be seen the frailty of women in every grade and condition.  From girls in their teens, launching out on a life of shame, to the adventuress who had once had youth and beauty in her favor, but was now discarded and ready for the final dose of opium and the coroner’s verdict,—­all were there in tinsel and paint, practicing a careless exposure of their charms. 

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