The two champions continued to bet, and the Greek invariably lost, until the peasant, satisfied with his winnings, retired. The rest of the spectators, who had stood quietly looking on, were thoroughly taken in by the countryman.
When he had retired, and the Greek continuing his offers of betting, three or four of them, taking the man for a fool, accepted the challenge.
But they, poor dupes, were ignorant that the countryman was an accomplice, and that the money he had pretended to gain, was only a lure to excite their cupidity.
With the fresh set of people anxious to bet, the Greek entirely changed his tactics. In throwing the cards on the ground, he, by a manœuvre, completely changed their position.
Thus, it is true, he placed the seven of hearts on No. 1, but, instead of letting fall the king of spades on No. 2, he slipped the card above (the ace of diamonds) in its place, and put the king on No. 3.
This substitution was so rapidly done, that no one perceived it, and of course, when the shuffling was all over, and the card named by the lookers on was turned up, it proved to be the ace of diamonds.
As this occurred very often, the losers determined to try and take their revenge, seldom quitting until they were all cleared out.
It sometimes happened that quarrels and even pitched battles followed this system of cheating; in which case the accomplice, who, from a distance, had watched the proceedings, interposed his powerful aid, and assisted his comrade to decamp.
This sort of gambling is now only met with in public-houses, as the police have interdicted the exhibition of it on the public thoroughfares.