It is worthy of note that these boxes are considered to be so good that they are not included in the catalogues of dealers in so-called 'sporting-goods.' They are kept as a secret among those who are 'in the know.'
These convenient little articles, then, bring us to the end of the systems of marking. It only remains to instruct the neophyte who has followed the course of our lessons so far, in the methods of utilising the marks when once they are placed upon the cards.
Those familiar words of the great artist who said that the medium he employed in mixing his colours was 'brains,' may find an echo in the directions for playing marked cards. They must be used with intelligence or not at all. Indeed, great circumspection is requisite in utilising the information which the marks provide. In a game of whist, for instance, a thorough-paced player would at once detect any glaring peculiarity of play resulting from knowledge surreptitiously acquired. One may know, perfectly well, which card in one's hand would win the trick, but it is not always advisable to play it. Tact and judgment, added to a thorough acquaintance with the rules of the game which is being played, are necessary adjuncts to the successful employment of any system of cheating.
In a round game, when it is your turn to deal, you may read the cards as you deal them; and in this way know the hands of your opponents, or at any rate the principal cards. In a single-handed game you can remember the whole of your antagonist's cards, but with more than two players it is not advisable to attempt to commit to memory more than one hand. That, preferably, should be the hand of the 'flattest man,' the 'greatest mug,' the man who is playing highest, or your most dangerous opponent. With a little practice the top card of the pack can be read, just before it is dealt. There is plenty of time for this whilst the previous card is on its way to the table. In a game such as Poker, where the suit is of no consequence, you simply repeat to yourself the value of the card as you deal it, and from your knowledge of the game you may deduce the discards from that particular hand. Then, in giving off the 'draft'—i.e. the cards to replace those which have been discarded, and which, of course, you have not seen—you read the cards as they are given out. In this way you can form a tolerably accurate opinion as to what cards that hand finally contains. If your hand happens to be better, you can bet against this particular player, continually raising the stakes until all the other players are 'raised out.' That is to say, they do not feel inclined to risk so much money on their hands, and therefore they throw them down, and leave the game, for the moment, in the hands of the two highest players.
A knowledge of the top card may be utilised in dealing 'seconds.' The top card, being one which you require, may be kept back until it comes to your turn either on the deal or the draft. This, however, is a very bad way of using marked cards. It is sure to be detected sooner or later, and then your only course will be to 'clear out' from the scene of your former victories. Whilst, if you confine your attention to the use of the information given by the marks, trusting to your wits rather than to the deftness of your fingers, you will not only win but 'last.'
Working with shaded cards, in which the shading occupies the greater portion of the card, many of your opponents' cards can be read as they hold them in their hands; especially where they are held spread out, as is so often the case in England.
Whatever may be the game, marked cards will often enable you to win where you otherwise would lose, so long as due care and judgment are exercised. For example, at Vingt-et-un, you will always know whether it is advisable to draw another card or not. You will not stand in doubt as to the card you will get. At Baccarat you will know what cards you have given the players, and what you will draw if you take one. Too many false drafts, however, are liable to create suspicion; so in this game you must be careful in your proceedings. At Loo, you will have a strong advantage, as you will always know the contents of the hand upon the table, and when to take 'miss.' In games such as 'Banker' or 'Polish Bank,' which consist of betting that you have in your hand a card (not seen) which will beat one that has been turned up, you have to contend with no uncertainty whatever.
Having pursued our subject to this point, it cannot be denied that we have learnt something of great importance, viz. that among the advantages enjoyed by us in this nineteenth century, we must not overlook those embodied in the fact, that not only are marked cards articles of commerce, readily obtainable at the right places, but we have also the means of falsifying genuine cards, of any pattern, at a few minutes' notice. Even failing this, we have at our command means of marking all the cards which it is necessary to know whilst under the very noses of our antagonists.
The practical philosopher—if such exist—whilst meditating upon the benefits accruing to mankind from civilisation, should by no means forget that, in one notable instance at least—card-playing to wit—civilisation has provided the means of eliminating from the affairs of life the undesirable and inconvenient element of chance. There is no such thing as chance, says the predestinationist; and certainly in some cases the truth is with him.