Wesley J. West

WESLEY J. WEST
I got to know Wes back in the late 50's, had seen him around Reno, but didn't actually meet him until I went to Elko for a while.
Wesley was a thief, one of the best. Actually, Wesley was a crossroader. That was a name given to a band of men who travelled all over Nevada, trying to extract money from Gambling Halls. They were all good.
They devoted hours of practice to "moves" with cards, dice or the wheel. And, they had lots of guts.
Wesley was ond of the best. His hands were always moving, doing something. I met him in a motel room in Elko. He was sitting on the side of a bed. A book of matches was lying on the bedspread, and Wesley had an identical book of matches that he was "mucking" in his hand ... (holding it in him palm). He would slowly moves his hand over the book lying on the bed, swoop his hand down, and in a split second as he passed over, he would drop the one in his hand, and pick up the one on the bedspread... it would be lying identically the same.
He could do it with a die, or a pair of dice, and pick up a card and drop one in that split second. Wesley was always practicing a move of some kind.
He was faairly old at that time, probably in his early sixties, but in very good shape. Elko, then and now, had a number of "houses of ill repute." All legal. Wes was always popular .. his cover was that of a manufacturers rep, and he always had a carload of goodies of some kind. The girls liked him for that reason, and apparently he had been blessed ... endowed, greatly. Old, bald headed, quickest hands in the west, rather quiet, and popular in the houses of Elko.
He had a passion for stealing in a game. He was compelled to "make a move" of some kind. If there was any kind of an edge he could get, he had to go for it.
We were driving from Elko to Reno, had a nice Ford convertable, weather was nice, nice drive.
There are not too many towns between Elko and Reno, and we got hungry as we entered Battle Mountain, Nevada. Petty much a wide spot in the road at that time. We pulled up in front of the Battle Mountain Inn, I think it was. They had a restaurant and a few 21 tables, a crap table and a wheel and some slots.
We went to the back where the dining room was. It was around 3 or 4 in the afternoon, very slow.
As we were eating, I noticed that Wesley was eyeing the "pit." They only had one 21 table open, and she was dealing to a shill, and she looked pretty "green." .. almost like she was just training. Got the impression that she had been passing through ... got a job, they needed a dealer, and she was it.
I started watching her along with Wesley ... she was very sloppy, and I knew Wesley saw it also ... she "leaked" when she checkced her hole-card .. she held it up to high, and the first baseman .. the player to her left .. could generally get a peek at what the card was.
Wesley could not take this. He bolted his lunch down and headed for the table. He was a good actor ... knew nothing about the game, played the passing through tourist, kept talking, distracting her. He didn't bet too big, and no one was paying any attention to what was going on.
As I say, it was quiet, not much going on. Wesley would win $100 or so, I would saunter by, take the money (silver dollars at that time) and be inconspicuous.
We were about $300 ahead, and the bartender noticed what was going on. He made a quick phone call.
Battle Mountain is a railroad town, and about that time some of the workers who were staying at the hotel, all young, tan, muscular guys, started coming in to the casino for their after work drink.
It all happened quickly ... the bartender let out a yell, and a group of three of four railroaders ... blocked our path to the door. I had about $200 in silver dollars in every pocket, pretty well weighed down. It was getting kinda frantic for us.
Wesley reached in to his inside coat pocket and pulled out a few tear gas pens ... handed me one, like I knew what to do with it. He aimed and shot one at the feet of the three guys ... they disbursed quickly, gave us an opening .... we ran out the door, jumped in to the car and headed west toward Reno.
We noticed one car take off after us ... we thought, but didn't pursue us too long.
We made it safely back to Reno.
Never forget old Wesley, he was a one of a kind. He probably never had less than 7 or 8 thousand dollars on him, in hundreds ... but never touched it. That was his "bankroll" ... just in case he needed it sometime to get even.
I doubt if there are any like him left in Nevada, the old timers who started running numbers when they were 5 or 6 ... went up through the ranks, worked the "wheel houses" in Florida, or the boats off Long Beach. He talked about working the Chesterfield in Detroit, but he primarily knew every poker game he ever sat in on. KNew who was in the game, how much he won or lost, and the same about all those in the game. He had a mind like a computer, and a memory that was uncanny. I wish I had recorded some of his stories.
Wesley J. West ... oddly enough, the last time I saw him ... early 60's ... I had joined the Lions club in Heath, and was working the Corn Festival. Looked up and there was Buster, Wesley and a couple more of the "boys." They always took a few weeks, toured the midwest, hit the "festivals" that had gaming.
We met later on in the evening and talked ... They liked Millersport ... they always took a "thousand" or so with them ... easy pickins for them ...