Word: craps
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...Eugene O'Neill went in Emperor Jones. It is a white man's comment on the relationship between sex and religion, a comment in which sympathy and emotion replace the irony so easy to this kind of writing. After shooting his brother in an argument about a crap game, a Negro named Zeke turns preacher and converts the girl, Chick, who got him in the game. She beats up his rival with a poker, saying. "Ain't no one goin' to stand in my path to glory." This is the best line in Hallelujah, but Zeke...
Fleishhackers. Prominent, for example, are the Fleishhackers-Brothers Mortimer and Herbert. Lean, reserved, relatively unsocial is Mortimer, president of Anglo-California Trust Co. Sharply contrasted is Herbert, stocky, rumpled, good-mixing president of Anglo & London Paris National Bank. A poker-player, a crap-shooter is Herbert; he plays also a talkative game of mediocre and expensive bridge. He unsuccessfully backed local horseracing and doodlebug enterprises. He once raised 600 species of orchids on a bet. The Fleishhackers have wide interests in oil, rails, utilities, industrials...
...Broadway game, an itinerant and expensive Manhattan crap tournament, is often patronized by 0. K. Coakley, Long George, Dollar John, Titanic, Fred Perry, the Elk City Flash...
Greedy little boys, disturbed in a crap game by a patrolman, return deviously, cautiously, to the street corner where the game was in progress. Last week, the small operators, "piker traders," sidled back to the corner of Broad and Wall streets, Manhattan, to see if the absorbing Stock Exchange was once more safe for speculation. They watched, guessed, dabbled. The market was quiet, neither bullish nor bearish. Puzzled, the traders waited for more convincing results of the new 5% rediscount rate, wondered if the battle of the bulls and bankers were in progress, already ended, or just beginning...
Taking their way through Houston's Negro quarter, as it was their duty to do from time to time, Detectives Davis and Bradshaw of the Houston police force surprised a Saturday night crap game. One of the Negroes dropped a gun and ran. Detective Bradshaw collared that man. Detective Davis chased another one, a Negro named Robert Powell. Some one shot. Davis shot too, then dropped, wounded mortally. Powell, wounded in the abdomen, crept home to bed. But he was found and with him a discharged revolver. He denied shooting Detective Davis. He was arrested, removed to a hospital...