Word: faroe
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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George Wingfield bought a faro outfit, set himself up in the roaring mining town of Tonopah and began to rake in the shekels. Before long he was known as the ''Boy Gambler," ran his own gambling joint in Goldfield in competition with the late Tex Rickard. Meanwhile he was speculating steadily in low-price mining stocks. One was the Mohawk mine, which in 1906 struck gold, reached a value of $7,000,000 in seven months. Wingfield and Nixon joined forces, bought other properties which they incorporated as Goldfield Consolidated Mines Co. with a capitalization...
...sold newspaper advertising, drifted into publishing, which he calls ''a gamble . . . tougher than any poker game I ever sat in and I have played in some tough ones, too." He established the American in Panama City in 1925, likes to boast that it is the only newspaper with a faro and roulette outfit among its assets...
Games of roulette, crap, faro and birdcage at elaborate nightclubs tinkled pleasantly without interruption from the law. The William K. Vanderbilts came and went in their private car. The yearling sales, held every evening for a fortnight, began in a small, brightly-lighted outdoor arena across the road from the racetrack. The liveliest U. S. racing season in 20 years was nearing its peak...
...high heeled boots, dress distended by the bustle, or as Mr. Allen quotes, "by a kind of ambulatory showcase, or exhibition grounds,"--for such was the female style. There is a camera portrait of Mrs. August Belmont hugging her muff in the midst of a fake snowstorm. There are faro games, and the Klondike, Fanny Ward in "Pippino" and Maude Adams in "Rosemary". The drawing rooms of the Vanderbilts and the Astors vie in roccoco obscenity. Valeska Surrat displays the hour-glass silhouette which won her recognition as the Gibson girl and the enjoyment of generations to come. There...
...west of Denver, rolled suddenly into the narrow street of an ancient mining town, wedged in a gulch a mile and a half above sea level. Above the main street the houses of Central City hang on the gulch walls like loose bark. Oldtime shops, dance halls, faro games, were going full blast, full of light & noise. Beaver-hatted men and bustled women strolled past. Lantern-faced miners smiled from their doorways. No Rip Van Winkle apparition in the mountains, all this was Colorado's second annual Central City Play Festival, blowing on the cold ashes of the oldtime...