grit and determination to raise his
family there.
At times, the family had running gun
skirmishes with Indians in the area but survived, unlike some of
the redskins. Luke had learned to shoot accurately and inherited
his father’s ambition to see a thing through. He learned to work
hard and answered to a leather strap when out of line. When Luke
turned sixteen, he had become good with a gun, frontier tough and
wild as any Comanche. He had grown tired of the hard physical labor
and monotonous routine of farm life, which left no time for any
fun. He figured it was time to make his own way.
On the frontier, anyone that could do a job
was considered a man, so his age was not a factor when he joined an
outfit to trail a herd from south of Fort Worth to Abilene,
Kansas.
Luke had learned to play cards with his
siblings back at home and loved it, besting them most of the time.
On the cattle trail, at night Luke played poker for small change
with the trail crew and could not seem to get enough gambling. He
marveled at making a day’s worth of wages from one hand of cards.
When he arrived in Abilene, Luke did not rush to the saloons to
drink himself blind and consort with the floozies, as did most of
the crew.
He spent a few bucks to buy some new clothes
and clean up then it was straight to the saloons to get into a
game. It only took two nights of gambling before Luke went bust at
the hands of professional dealers. Flat broke Luke had no choice
but to either go on back to Texas with the others, which he didn’t
figure on doing, or find some work locally. Luke had become
disillusioned with herding cattle; long days in the saddle eating
dust, blistering his hands on ropes and sleeping on the ground had
lost all appeal. Hell, for a dollar a day and food offered as pay,
it wasn’t even a cut above living on the farm. Gambling was an
honored profession and he intended to make his way as a
gambler.
When another cowboy who had also gone broke
from gambling mentioned jobs available at the stockyards loading
cattle into boxcars, Luke jumped right on it. A dollar a day and a
bunkhouse to play penny-ante poker at night fit his needs
perfectly.
On payday, he ventured back into the town’s
gaming saloons, but held his playing to small stakes games, overly
watchful to ensure he came out ahead. He did not want to end up on
an endless cycle of working a day job, losing his wages, then
working again to lose again. Luke just knew that easier obtained
money was at the turn of a card at the tables. He studied others;
watching men foolishly drink too much and play around with saloon
women while gambling. Some made outlandish bets against pat hands
when they should have dropped out, then watched as their
hard-earned money ended up across the table.
Abilene was a wild and wooly town in 1871,
with hoards of trail end cowboys in town intent on raising hell. In
April, known gunman Wild Bill Hickok took the job as Marshal to
quell the violence. Things went well for a time then one night in
October, Hickok got into an argument with rival Phil Coe over a
woman. In the resulting gunplay, Hickok shot and killed Coe but
also mistakenly shot and killed his own deputy.
Abilene’s city officials were appalled and
had enough of the violence the cattlemen brought to town. In
December, they not only fired Hickok but also issued a proclamation
that Abilene would no longer allow herds be brought to Abilene. The
cattlemen lost no time in leaving town and moved operations,
including the Drover’s cottage, which was dismantled and loaded
onto flatcars for the trip to its new home sixty miles west at
Ellsworth.
A time later, with the last of the cattle
loaded and gone, Luke’s job ended. He had it in mind to get an
early start in the morning and travel the sixty miles to Ellsworth,
where cattlemen and the money they spent welcome. That night, Luke
was enjoying a small stakes poker game at The Trails End saloon
when a suited man at the table spoke of a big stakes
family there.
At times, the family had running gun
skirmishes with Indians in the area but survived, unlike some of
the redskins. Luke had learned to shoot accurately and inherited
his father’s ambition to see a thing through. He learned to work
hard and answered to a leather strap when out of line. When Luke
turned sixteen, he had become good with a gun, frontier tough and
wild as any Comanche. He had grown tired of the hard physical labor
and monotonous routine of farm life, which left no time for any
fun. He figured it was time to make his own way.
On the frontier, anyone that could do a job
was considered a man, so his age was not a factor when he joined an
outfit to trail a herd from south of Fort Worth to Abilene,
Kansas.
Luke had learned to play cards with his
siblings back at home and loved it, besting them most of the time.
On the cattle trail, at night Luke played poker for small change
with the trail crew and could not seem to get enough gambling. He
marveled at making a day’s worth of wages from one hand of cards.
When he arrived in Abilene, Luke did not rush to the saloons to
drink himself blind and consort with the floozies, as did most of
the crew.
He spent a few bucks to buy some new clothes
and clean up then it was straight to the saloons to get into a
game. It only took two nights of gambling before Luke went bust at
the hands of professional dealers. Flat broke Luke had no choice
but to either go on back to Texas with the others, which he didn’t
figure on doing, or find some work locally. Luke had become
disillusioned with herding cattle; long days in the saddle eating
dust, blistering his hands on ropes and sleeping on the ground had
lost all appeal. Hell, for a dollar a day and food offered as pay,
it wasn’t even a cut above living on the farm. Gambling was an
honored profession and he intended to make his way as a
gambler.
When another cowboy who had also gone broke
from gambling mentioned jobs available at the stockyards loading
cattle into boxcars, Luke jumped right on it. A dollar a day and a
bunkhouse to play penny-ante poker at night fit his needs
perfectly.
On payday, he ventured back into the town’s
gaming saloons, but held his playing to small stakes games, overly
watchful to ensure he came out ahead. He did not want to end up on
an endless cycle of working a day job, losing his wages, then
working again to lose again. Luke just knew that easier obtained
money was at the turn of a card at the tables. He studied others;
watching men foolishly drink too much and play around with saloon
women while gambling. Some made outlandish bets against pat hands
when they should have dropped out, then watched as their
hard-earned money ended up across the table.
Abilene was a wild and wooly town in 1871,
with hoards of trail end cowboys in town intent on raising hell. In
April, known gunman Wild Bill Hickok took the job as Marshal to
quell the violence. Things went well for a time then one night in
October, Hickok got into an argument with rival Phil Coe over a
woman. In the resulting gunplay, Hickok shot and killed Coe but
also mistakenly shot and killed his own deputy.
Abilene’s city officials were appalled and
had enough of the violence the cattlemen brought to town. In
December, they not only fired Hickok but also issued a proclamation
that Abilene would no longer allow herds be brought to Abilene. The
cattlemen lost no time in leaving town and moved operations,
including the Drover’s cottage, which was dismantled and loaded
onto flatcars for the trip to its new home sixty miles west at
Ellsworth.
A time later, with the last of the cattle
loaded and gone, Luke’s job ended. He had it in mind to get an
early start in the morning and travel the sixty miles to Ellsworth,
where cattlemen and the money they spent welcome. That night, Luke
was enjoying a small stakes poker game at The Trails End saloon
when a suited man at the table spoke of a big stakes
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