On this occasion, however, there was amongst the card-players one whose methods frankly puzzled me. He was a most benevolent-looking old chap, white-haired and bespectacled, very pleasant and affable, and hail-fellow-well-met with everybody. Nevertheless there was something about him that convinced me that he was a crook.
His luck was simply marvellous. For three nights I watched him win with uncanny regularity; yet, though I studied him closely all the while, following his every movement with my eyes, I could detect nothing wrong with his play. All the same, however, I became more and more convinced that I was not mistaken in my estimate of him. The man was a sharper, beyond the shadow of a doubt. I could tell by watching his play that he knew what cards the other players held.
On the fourth evening, after play, during which he won as usual, the cards happened to be left behind on the smoke-room table. I quietly pocketed them, and took them down to my cabin, where I spent over an hour examining them one by one by the aid of a microscope. My labour was in vain. I could detect absolutely nothing wrong with the cards, which were those ordinarily sold on board ship at eightpence a pack.
On the following night I again watched him closely, and was more than ever convinced that I was not mistaken. On this occasion poker was being played, and his winnings amounted to over £200. During the game one of the other players, either because his suspicions were aroused, or perhaps simply with the idea of changing his luck, ordered another pack of cards, and these were duly supplied by one of the stewards in the usual sealed package, which was opened by the man who ordered and paid for them.
This, of course, seemed to do away entirely with any chance of his having been able to mark the cards beforehand. Yet still he went on winning, and still I continued to watch him, like a cat watching a mouse. The sole result was that I was more puzzled than ever. The thing began to get on my nerves. Here was I a professional card-manipulator, a man who knew, or at all events thought he knew, every trick on the board; and here was a man whom I knew in my mind to be a card-sharper, and yet I could not detect his method of swindling. It made me wild.
The day before we got into New York he had another good night, by far the best he had had during the voyage. His luck was the talk of the ship. “Luck!” said I to myself, and ground my teeth in rage to think how he had outwitted us all. He had not had any of my money, it was true. I had seen to that. But nevertheless I was furious to think I could not find out how the trick was worked.
Again I secured possession of the cards he had been playing with, and again I examined them under the microscope in the quiet seclusion of my own cabin. I spread them out on my dressing-table, and sat there for a couple of hours or more, studying them, peering at them, fingering them back and front. The net result of it all was the same as on the previous occasion. I could detect nothing whatever wrong with them, and in the end I gave it up as a bad job, switched off the light, and tumbled into bed, leaving the pack of cards backs uppermost on the dressing-table.
About four o’clock in the morning, and when it was still quite dark, I awoke, and had occasion to get out of my bunk. While on my feet, groping round for the electric light switch, I saw something sparkle on the dressing-table, and thinking it might be my diamond ring, I reached out my hand in order to pick it up. To my surprise it was not there. I switched on the light and the sparkle disappeared. Investigation showed me that my diamond ring was safe in a little covered box I used to keep my jewellery in. There was the usual litter of things on the dressing-table, but nothing, so far as I could see, that was at all likely to sparkle in the dark.
Somewhat mystified, I switched the light off again, and at once the tiny twinkling point of fire flashed into being again. Then I knew. It emanated from the pack of cards; from the topmost card, that was exposed back uppermost.
Once more I switched the light on, and laid the cards out face downwards on the table. Then I switched it off again; and the mystery stood revealed. Every single card was marked on the top right-hand corner on the back with a luminous substance, which I found out later was a patent preparation of phosphorous oil.