hall. Somebody else run that. But the gambling and saloon was his and Tom Thompson's. And he'd sit there and watch them games, you know. And I then was about thirty-four years old, three or four, five something. I was standing there looking in one night, and another chair there, says, "Bud, come sit down and talk to me awhile. I like to talk to young folks." I sat there and he said, "I take notice you don't buck them games in there much." I said, "No, I haven't got money enough to go up there. Anyway I can't beat them. I got sense enough to know that. I hate to thump my money off; I've got better ways to spend my money than floop it off in them crap games in there. Oh, once in awhile a bunch of us get together and go in there and have a little fun, lose $2 or $3 or maybe win $2 or $3 something like that, not much. He says, "You just keep that up. I'm a fair example of a gambler's life. I'm an old man, seventy-five years old. I have no children; I have no wife. The simple reason, I never would marry because I wouldn't marry a woman that'd have me. Now here I am at the latter part of life, no children, no nothing. And there's not a businessman in Texas that's worked as hard as I have. I worked the hard hours too. All of my work's mostly been at night. I've made and lost two or three fortunes." And he said, "If I'd have never got gambling in my blood and went into any other business, legitimate business and worked at it as hard as I have this gambling, I'd perhaps have been Mr. Tom Wyman today