"Right you are," says the soldier, "if you'll play with my cards."
"Deal them out," shouted the devils, and the soldier put his pipe in his pocket and dealt out the cards, while the devils crowded round the table fighting for room on the benches.
They played a game and the soldier won. They played another and he won again. The devils were cunning enough, God knows, but not all their cunning could win a single game for them. The soldier was raking in the money all the time. Soon enough the devils had not a penny piece between them, and the soldier was for putting up his cards and lighting his pipe. Content he was, and well he might be, with his pockets bulging with money.
"Stop a minute, soldier," said the devils, "we've still got sixty bushels of silver and forty of gold. We'll play for them if you'll give us time to send for them."
"Lets see the silver," says the soldier, and puts the cards in his pocket.
Well, they sent a little devil to fetch the silver. Sixty times he ran out of the room and sixty times he came staggering back with a bushel of silver on his shoulders.
The soldier pulled out his cards, and they played on, but it was all the same. The devils cheated in every kind of way, but could not win a game.
"Go and fetch the gold," says the oldest devil.
"Aye, aye, grandfather," says the little devil, and goes scuttling out of the room. Forty times he ran out, and forty times he came staggering back with a bushel of gold between his shoulders.
They played on. The soldier won every game and all the gold, asked if they had any more money to lose, put his cards in his pocket and lit his pipe.