“I prefer not to play, sir,” I responded to the heavily 77 breathing Colonel. “I am new here and I cannot afford to lose until I am better established.”
“Never yet seen a man who couldn’t afford to win, though,” Bill growled. “Easy pickin’, too. But come on, then. We’ll give you a straight steer some’rs else.”
So we left the crowd—containing indeed women as well as men—to their insensate fervor over a childish game under the stimulation of the raucous, sweating barker. Of gambling devices, in the open of the street, there was no end. My conductors appeared to have the passion, for our course led from one method of hazard to another—roulette, chuck-a-luck where the patrons cast dice for prizes of money and valuables arrayed upon numbered squares of an oilcloth covered board, keno where numbered balls were decanted one at a time from a bottle-shaped leather receptacle called, I learned, the “goose,” and the players kept tab by filling in little cards as in domestic lotto; and finally we stopped at the simplest apparatus of all.
“The spiel game for me, gentlemen,” said the Colonel. “Here it is. Yes, suh, there’s nothing like monte, where any man is privileged to match his eyes against fingers. Nobody but a blind man can lose at monte, by George!”
“And this spieler’s on the level,” Bill pronounced, sotto voce. “I vote we hook him for a gudgeon, and get the price of a meal. Our friend will join us in 78 the turn. He can see for himself that he can’t lose. He’s got sharp eyes.”
The bystanders here were stationed before a man sitting at a low tripod table; and all that he had was the small table—a plain cheap table with folding legs—and three playing cards. Business was a trifle slack. I thought that his voice crisped aggressively as we elbowed through, while he sat idly skimming the three cards over the table, with a flick of his hand.
“Two jacks, and the ace, gentlemen. There they are. I have faced them up. Now I gather them slowly—you can’t miss them. Observe closely. The jack on top, between thumb and forefinger. The ace next—ace in the middle. The other jack bottommost.” He turned his hand, with the three cards in a tier, so that all might see. “The ace is the winning card. You are to locate the ace. Observe closely again. It’s my hand against your eyes. I am going to throw. Who will spot the ace? Watch, everybody. Ready! Go!” The backs of the cards were up. With a swift movement he released the three, spreading them in a neat row, face down, upon the table. He carelessly shifted them hither and thither—and his fingers were marvelously nimble, lightly touching. “Twenty dollars against your twenty that you can’t pick out the ace, first try. I’ll let the cards lie. I shan’t disturb them. There they are. If you’ve watched the ace fall, you win. If you haven’t, you lose unless you guess right.” 79
“Just do that trick again, will you, for the benefit of my friend here?” bade the Colonel.
The “spieler”—a thin-lipped, cadaverous individual, his soft hat cavalierly aslant, his black hair combed flatly in a curve down upon his damp forehead, a pair of sloe eyes, and a flannel shirt open upon his bony chest—glanced alert. He smiled.
“Hello, sir. I’m agreeable. Yes, sir. But as they lie, will you make a guess? No? Or you, sir?” And he addressed Bill. “No? Then you, sir?” He appealed to me. “No? But I’m a mind-reader. I can tell by your eyes. They’re upon the right-end card. Aha! Correct.” He had turned up the card and shown the ace. “You should have bet. You would have beaten me, sir. You’ve got the eyes. I think you’ve seen this game before. No? Ah, but you have, or else you’re born lucky. Now I’ll try again. For the benefit of these three gentlemen I will try again. Kindly reserve your bets, friends all, and you shall have your chance. This game never stops. I am always after revenge. Watch the ace. I pick up the cards. Ace first—blessed ace; and the jacks. Watch close. There you are.” He briefly exposed the faces of the cards. “Keep your eyes upon the ace. Ready—go!”