Words which, accompanied by the contortion of Gaelic gesticulation, only brought about him a crowd, among whom two constables made their appearance. The sharper was transferred to their hands, glad enough to be relieved of his more furious antagonist, and all the three made for the Office.
It was at this part of the strange drama I came into play. The moment I saw the Highlander enter with his man, I suspected the nature of the complaint, for I knew he was from the country, and the sharper, David Wallace, was one of my most respected protégés in the card and thimblerigging line; but I required the information given me by the Highlander to make me understand all the dexterity of the trick which the pseudo-captain of the Britannia had practised. The club, I knew, consisted of four, David Wallace, Richard Kyles, John Dewar, and John Sweeny. It was regularly organised, each man having attached to him his gillet of a helpmate, ready to secrete or carry the watches and other property won by their lords at this most unequal game. I have always considered those daylight sharpers, who, without instruments other than three cards or three thimbles and a pea, contrive to levy extensive contributions on society, as men worthy to have been drawn into the ranks of honest citizens, where their talents could not have failed to elevate them into wealth. Even the manipulation of these simple instruments is more wonderful than the tricks of a conjurer. Fix your eyes as you may, be suspicious even to certainty that the player is cheating you, I will defy you to detect the moment when, by the light if not elegant touch of the finger, your pea has been slipped from the right thimble to the wrong, or the right card to the wrong—yea, to the end, you could swear that no deception has been or could be practised upon you; and even when your watch is forfeited you could hardly think but that your misfortune lay on some defect in your power of penetration. And so it does. You are cheated—nay, fairly cheated. You can’t expect from such men that they should undertake not to deceive you. If they had no art, you would ruin them in five minutes, for all you would have to do (and you insist on the unfair privilege) is to watch the thimble under which your fortune lies and snatch it. There is, therefore, no pity due to the victims of these men’s deceptions, and this we can say with a thorough condemnation of the men themselves.
As soon as I understood the transaction, it was my duty to detect the right thimble, and I had no fear of deception. I sent Wallace, under charge of a constable, to the Leith Office, and told M‘Beath that I would have the three others there in the course of a couple of hours. I had no doubt that Dewar, the cleverest of them, had personated the captain, and that he had rejoined his associates to share the booty. I knew their haunt, a public-house in Bristo Street, and, taking Riley with me, I went direct to the place. My luck was nothing less than wonderful. Just as I entered I met my three men coming out of a room, and holding out my arms—
“Stop, gentlemen,” said I; “I have got something to say to you.”
But I didn’t need to say it. They understood me as well as I did them.
“Captain Dewar of the Britannia,” said I, looking to Dewar.
“At your service,” replied the rogue, with a spice of humour, at which, in the very midst of their choking wrath, they could not help leering.
Well, the old process. “Search,” said I; “I want seven pounds and a watch.”
And calling in my assistant, I began my search. No resistance. They were too well up to their calling.
I found the watch on Wallace. No more. The pounds had been given to the fancies.