The Life and Adventures of Ben Hogan, the Wickedest Man in the World

CHAPTER IX.

Chapter 362,011 wordsPublic domain

Leaves Oil County--In Saratoga--Arrested on False Reports--Goes Back to Tidioute--In Rochester--First Meeting with Cummings.

It can be easily imagined, after the events narrated in the preceding chapter, that Hogan began to believe the oil regions were not the safest spot for him to tarry in. He, therefore, struck out for a new field of labor.

Accompanied by French Kate, he made his way to Albany, and thence to Saratoga. There he opened a cottage for the season.

He was flush as a lord during that summer. When he first arrived at the Springs he had twenty-seven thousand dollars in cash. It need hardly be said that he spent this money in princely style. Nobody drove a more stunning turn-out, nor drank choicer wines, nor dropped heavier sums on the green board than did Ben Hogan. A single incident may serve to illustrate the recklessness with which he parted with his money.

Entering John Morrissey's famous club-house one night, he sauntered up to the faro table, and after watching the cards for a moment, said:

"A hundred that the ace loses!"

The dealer glanced up, and at once recognized Hogan, placed a counter on the ace for the sum specified. At the very next turn the ace came up on the winning pile.

"Two hundred that it loses this time!" said Ben, quietly.

Another marker was placed on the cloth, and again the ace showed up, winning.

"Four hundred that she loses now!" said Ben, while the other players began to stand back and watch him with curious eyes.

Again the cards were dealt out by the dealer, and again the ace turned to win.

"That is seven hundred dollars in all that I have lost, is it?" asked Ben, knocking the ashes from his cigar.

"Seven hundred!" repeated the dealer.

Ben drew an immense roll of bank notes from his pocket, counted out the amount he had lost and fourteen hundred dollars more, and remarked:

"Take up the counters and put this on the ace. I repeat my bet."

The excitement of those who were watching the game had by this time become intense. Even the dealer stroked his moustache a little nervously before he began to deal out the cards. In fact, the only man in the group who appeared to be perfectly unconcerned was Ben himself. He puffed his fragrant cigar as composedly as though he had no interest whatever in the result of the deal. And yet, upon the single turn of a card hung the fate of fourteen hundred dollars--more money than many a man is able to earn by a year's hard labor.

But one ace remained in the box. Slowly, and with clock-like precision the dealer slipped out the cards, Every eye was strained, every breath bated. At last it came--and for the fourth time it lost!

Ben drew forth a fresh cigar, lighted it, and strolled away from the table, having dropped fourteen hundred dollars in just ten minutes.

At this rate, it can readily be seen that the comfortable fortune dwindled away in surprisingly short time. Wine, women and cards can eat up a Vanderbilt estate before a man knows what he is doing. And although Ben was pretty flush, he was not exactly a Vanderbilt.

One incident which occurred that summer, during his sojourn in Saratoga, was of a less pleasant nature than the usual round of pleasures at a watering place. It was nothing more nor less than Ben's arrest on a charge of murder. The affair happened in this wise:

One Sam Hoick, who had an old grudge against Hogan, circulated a report to the effect that Ben had been indicted for murder in Pennsylvania, and that there was then a reward offered for his capture. Hoick got his brother to add his testimony to the story, which was, throughout, a deliberate falsehood. Ben had never been indicted for murder, either in Pennsylvania or anywhere else; and as the reader already knows, he had been acquitted in the Babylon court because there was no evidence against him. The Hoick brothers, however, did not stand upon falsifying to what they knew was untrue, so long as they were enabled to get Ben into trouble.

Upon these reports a detective arrested Hogan, and he was locked up in the Balston jail. Subsequently he was taken out on a writ of _habeas corpus_, and a telegram was sent to the oil regions to ascertain whether the Hoick brothers' story was true. The reply to this message, sent by the justice before whom Ben had appeared, was to the effect that there was no indictment for murder against Hogan, and added that if he had killed those who had figured in the affair, he would have done the community a service.

Of course, upon the receipt of this message, he was discharged from custody.

His fast career in Saratoga was now drawing to a close. He had spent his money with reckless extravagance, and, as already explained, the steady drain had reduced the pile until little or nothing remained. During this time, French Kate had become so jealous that it was next to impossible for Ben to live with her. They had had one or two open quarrels, and shortly before leaving her, Ben excited her anger to such a pitch that she shot at him, with the intention of killing him.

When, at last, his money was entirely gone, Ben borrowed fifteen dollars and left the Springs, leaving also French Kate behind him.

He made his way back to the oil regions for the purpose of securing the furniture, clothing, and other personal property which he had left in Tidioute. This property was in the hands of the landlord from whom Ben had rented his house. He claimed that the house had been damaged by Hogan's occupancy of it, and openly boasted that he should hold on to the furniture and other things to indemnify himself.

Ben, upon reaching the town, made his way at once to the landlord's house. He went with the determination of getting what rightfully belonged to him--and he got it. He did not trouble any lawyer about the matter, and the only friends that he took with him were a couple of good revolvers. These he knew he could rely upon, and when they spoke, their remarks would be sure to have weight.

Entering the house with a pistol in each hand, he said:

"I have come to get what honestly belongs to me. You have seized upon my furniture, bedding and other articles, and now I want you to fork over the price of the same. If you make any disturbance I may be obliged to call upon these friends for assistance!"

Here Ben swung the revolvers around in an exceedingly free-and-easy manner. There was a good deal of bluster and blow on the part of the landlord, but he finally concluded that the best thing he could do would be to compromise the matter. So he paid Ben four hundred dollars, which was all the money there was in the establishment, and our hero thereupon withdrew.

That same day he went over to Tryern, where were gathered many of the old patrons of the Babylon House. These men, however they might abuse Ben when he was absent, were ready enough to praise him to his face. In fact, they were all too much afraid of him to relish the idea of having him for an enemy. They therefore told him that he had done right in defending his house against the mob, and that if they had been in his place they would have shot a dozen instead of one.

With the four hundred dollars in his pocket, Ben was feeling in such good humor that he bought ten gallons of whiskey and ten boxes of cigars, all of which he distributed among the crowd. Of course they swore that he was the best fellow alive, after that. Any man would be the best fellow alive who would furnish the gang ten gallons of whiskey and ten boxes of cigars.

There was one chap, John Dillon by name, who had frequently asserted that he would kill Hogan as soon as he saw him. Wishing to settle up all little matters of this kind before leaving the neighborhood, Ben, happening to run across Dillon that day, told him that he was ready to receive him whenever he wanted to put up his fists. Dillon was at first disposed to "get on his ear," but one blow on the head brought him to terms. He made up his mind that it was all a mistake; he didn't want to kill Ben at all; he didn't even want to fight with him. And so the two took a drink together, and pledged each other's very good health.

Having settled up his business, Ben again left the oil country and bent his course toward Syracuse. Upon his arrival in that city he learned that Cummings, of Rochester, was anxious for a fight, and so he lost no time in giving him a chance.

His first meeting with Cummings was somewhat amusing. The latter had never seen Ben, although he had heard a great deal about him. Our hero sought out the Rochester pugilist, and without making known who he was, began a conversation.

"I hear," said Ben, "that you want to fight Hogan. Is that so?"

"You're right it is," answered Cummings. "I have been trying to get up a fight for a long time now, but I never could bring him to time."

"Well, that's odd," returned Ben. "I've been told that this man Hogan is a plucky fellow, who is willing to accept a challenge from anybody. Did you ever see him?"

"Well, I went down to Syracuse," answered Cummings, "and tried to see him, but he kept himself out of my way. The fact of it is, the fellow's afraid of me!"

"Oh, he is, is he?" said Ben, with a curious sort of a smile. "Well, we'll see what can be done toward bringing you together!"

That ended the conversation for the time being, Ben agreeing to meet Cummings the next day. What troubled our hero was not the fear of fighting Cummings, but the want of money to put up for the match. By good luck, he happened to fall in that same day with Perkins, California Jack, and one or two other sporting men, and to them he made known his wants. Perkins was desirous of seeing what Ben could do, and the party accordingly adjourned to a gymnasium, where Hogan gave a specimen of his pugilistic skill.

"I'll go my pile on that man!" said Perkins, when Ben had finished.

In this way he secured good backers, and was ready to fight for any reasonable sum.

According to agreement, he met Cummings next day.

"Look here," said Ben, who wanted to get at once down to business, "you say that you are ready and anxious to fight Hogan?"

"That's what I say," answered Cummings.

"Well, now, suppose Hogan was to come in here now," (they were in the Arcade saloon at the time) "would you go out and fight him?"

"I would," was the answer.

"All right," said Ben. "I am the gentleman in question, and I will fight you for five hundred dollars, or one hundred dollars, or a chew of tobacco, if you like! We'll drive out of town now with a few friends and settle the whole business. What do you say?"

Cummings, upon finding himself face to face with the man whom he had been boasting he could whip, began to grow a little white about the gills. He professed, however, to be willing to accept Ben's proposal, but instead of doing this he started off and got out a warrant for Hogan's arrest on a charge of engaging in a prize fight.

Ben had very little trouble in getting released from custody, but he left Rochester thoroughly disgusted with Cummings.