ODDS’N’SODS — High-rolling miners push their luck in Reno

Some time ago, I was surprised to read in the Miner that my good friend and client Charlie Robbins had passed away. The news recalled to my mind the following story which will not surprise anybody familiar with Charlie’s fierce gambling instinct.

We were a party of four, just landed in Reno, Nev., which included Charlie, Jack Bergmann and myself. A local mining man by the name of Jim Zunino was also with us. Charlie, Jack and I were standing in the gaming room of the Riverside Hotel, waiting for Jim to pick us up. Charlie was playing the “dollar” slot machine, which stubbornly refused to pay up. Jim had arrived and we were all waiting to go when Charlie started kicking the machine, yelling that he wouldn’t leave until the #&*@$! machine had paid him back. Finally, after a last and stronger kick, the $100 jackpot spilled onto the floor in the form of silver dollars.

We finally got in the car and headed out of town, but as we passed the Nugget Lodge in Sparks (east of Reno), Charlie said: “Stop here. I’m sure they have a dollar machine and I want to play it.” Sure enough, they had one and Charlie played it, yelling and kicking until, once again, the $100 jackpot spilled onto the floor.

We then all got back in the car and drove to Fallon where, believe it or not, Charlie went through the same routine again. To shorten the story, we stopped at every place where a dollar machine would likely be and, by the time we hit Tonopah, some 250 miles south of Reno, Charlie had hit 38 jackpots and was up about $3,500.

We did our job around Silver Peak and drove non-stop back to Reno and the Riverside Hotel where Charlie headed immediately for the craps table. He played and he played, but half the time a fat guy would push his way in front of him and block his view of the dice, or else he would shake cigar ash in Charlie’s eyes when it was his turn to throw.

After a few hours he had lost his whole $3,500 roll and, worse still, owed the house $2,500, for which he had to call home.

On the day we had left for Tonopah, I played a slot machine with the last quarter in my pocket and hit a $7.50 jackpot, all in quarters which I promptly tried to lose at the roulette table. In a matter of minutes, I was up $225 when the roulette started coming out 0 and 00 (in which case the house pockets everything). I cashed in and walked away with about $200. When we came back from Tonopah, Charlie set about shooting his soul at craps while I returned to my high-yield roulette table. After a few rounds, the 0 and 00 started coming out again at every spin of the wheel, which is when I quit.

Two months later, we read in the paper that the Nevada Gambling Authority had raided the Riverside and had found all the dice loaded. They had also discovered secret buttons under the carpet of the gaming room whereby the croupier was controlling the roulette wheel.

The place was forcibly closed for two years and then sold.

— Pierre Lacombe is a consulting mining engineer in Montreal.