This game is a favorite one with nearly all non-professional gamblers, not only because the risk of loss involved is not large, but also because of the popular impression that it is always played “on the square.” As a matter of fact, it usually is conducted fairly, although, as will be explained, sometimes bare-faced swindling is resorted to by the proprietors.

The game very closely resembles the children’s pastime of “lotto.” Any number of persons may play. Each one desiring to participate in the game buys a card on which are three horizontal rows of five numbers each, arranged altogether without regularity. The price paid for a card is commonly twenty-five cents, although sometimes the stakes are considerably higher. None of the cards contain a higher number than ninety-nine. The conductor of the game—who is known as the “roller”—takes his position, usually upon a raised platform, in full view of the players. Before him is placed a globe containing ninety-nine balls, numbered consecutively from one to ninety-nine, to correspond with the figures on the players’ cards. The balls having been thoroughly mixed, the “roller” presses a spring at the bottom of the globe, opening an aperture just large enough to permit one ball to drop at a time. As soon as the first one has fallen, the aperture is closed and the “roller,” in a loud voice, calls out the number inscribed upon it. If a player finds the number in either of the three horizontal rows on his card he places a button over it. When any player has all five, numbers in any one of his rows thus called out, he exclaims “keno,” after which the “roller” takes no more balls from the globe. His card is then inspected by one of the “collectors”—of whom there are usually two—and if his tally is correct he is given the entire amount of money paid by all the players (which is called “the pot”) less a discount of fifteen per cent., which is retained by “the house” as its “percentage.” Thus, if there are a hundred players, each of whom has paid twenty-five cents for a card, the winner receives twenty-one dollars and twenty-five cents, the bank reserving to itself three dollars and seventy-five cents as “percentage.”

Matters having been thus arranged, fresh stakes are advanced by those wishing to play again, the balls put in the globe and the game is resumed.

It may be readily seen that the “bank” incurs no risk whatever, and its sure percentage on the stakes is large enough to satisfy the cupidity of most gamblers. Fortunes have been won by the proprietors of these games, one concern alone in St. Louis having made $190,000 thereby. Still, the instinct to cheat is strong in the breast of the professional sharper; and sometimes a confederate of the proprietor plays in the game and wins the “pot,” through the co-operation of the “roller.” The latter withholds from the globe several balls, which he substitutes, from time to time, for the ones which he should have taken from the globe. The numbers on these withheld and substituted balls correspond to those necessary to fill out one of the horizontal rows on the confederate’s card and the latter is thus enabled toto win through fraud.

This game is similar in its general principles to those of the “squeeze spindle,” “needle wheel,” and “corona,” which have already been described. It is a favorite game upon fair-grounds, as are the others, but it is frequently found in resorts which are known as “first-class” gambling houses. There is scarcely a “hell” in the city of Chicago in which this apparatus cannot be found. This circumstance, in itself, affords a striking commentary upon the principles which underlie the management of what the uninitiated are wont to call “square houses.”

The accompanying cut shows the device used in playing the game, not only as it appears to the outsider, but also with the “fake” element exposed. A circular ring of wood, about three inches broad, is attached to a square board which is placed upon a table. At four points in the ring, equi-distant from each other, are the painted representations of four jacks. Between each pair of jacks are eight blank spaces, each one of which is usually numbered, the numbers running from one to thirty-two, consecutively. Sometimes ordinary playing cards are substituted for the numbers. Each of the four blocks of numbers is painted a distinct and separate color. In the centre of the inner circle is placed a metal arrow, having a pointed quill attached to the smaller end, the whole swinging upon a central pivot. Prices are placed at intervals upon the numbered squares. When the game is played at gambling houses, the only prizes offered are sums of money, varying in amount, and between these the numbers are left blank. When the device is operated upon a fair-ground, there are no blanks, articles of jewelry of trifling value being placed between the money prizes.

The mode of play is usually different upon fair-grounds from that which is followed in the regular gaming houses. In the former case, players pay twenty-five cents each for the privilege of swinging the arrow, and take the prize opposite the quill point when it stops revolving. At regular gaming houses players place their stakes upon whatever number or color they may select, and if they win the bank pays them the amount due them. The bets may be made either upon any one of the four jacks or on either of the four colors. If the player stakes his money upon a jack and wins, the proprietor pays him ten times the amount of his stake. If he lays his wager upon any given color,—if he is playing upon a fair-ground,—he receives simply his original stake, together with an equal sum. If, however, he is playing in a house, and names the lucky color, he receives two for one.

The chances having been bought or the bets laid, some one—either one of the players, or the proprietor, or a bystander—sets the arrow in motion. When the pointer comes to rest, if any player has laid his bet upon the number at which it stops, he receives either the prize thereon placed or the amount of his winnings in cash.

The “fake” element, as has been said, is shown in the illustration. There is a wire rod running from points B and C to the central pivot. As in the “squeeze spindle,” they are sunk into the table and concealed by the cloth covering. That which runs to point B is manipulated by pressure with the hand; that which terminates at point C is operated by pressure from the hip. When the operator pushes against either of these rods, he checks the revolution of the arrow by creating friction at the pivot, and brings the pointer to a standstill at any part of the circle which he may desire.

Very little reflection is necessary to show the reader how great is the legitimate percentage in favor of the bank, even were this game played without any resort to trickery. There are four colors and four jacks upon which a player may bet. It follows that the odds are seven to one in favor of the house against any individual player naming the winning color or card. And when to this percentage against the players there is added the absolute certainty of winning which the bank gains through the operation of the fraudulent device above explained, it is apparent that no one can possibly win except through the consent of the proprietor of the machine.

A rather striking illustration of the utter lack of good faith which characterizes gamblers in their dealings with one another, and their general moral perversity is furnished in the following narrative, for the truth of which the author vouches. Two itinerantitinerant sharpers, each with a rolling faro outfit were traveling on a Missouri river steamboat. The year was 18—, and the season was autumn, when county fairs were at full blast and men of that ilk were reaping a rich harvest. Both men were destined for the same point, and each had been anxious to secure a monopoly of the “privilege” of running his machine at the fair in question. One of them discovered that his business rival had forestalled him, and that—to use a colloquialismcolloquialism—“his cake was dough.” The gambler who had succeeded in obtaining his license retired early, serenely confident that the following day would witness not only the discomfiture of his rival but also his own success. But he had reckoned without his host. Scarcely had he fallen asleep before the form of his wily antagonist might have been seen prowling among the freight upon the main deck. Stealthily he moved in and out among the piles of stuff until he discovered the wheel of the licensed monopolist. Then followed a dull, grating sound, as of some one drawing a heavy box across a floor; then came a sudden splash, and to this succeeded silence. The gambling machine of the enterprising gamester who had secured the license, had sunk beneath the waters of the Mississippi, to be seen no more by mortal eyes. The next morning there was a brief season of pandemonium. The situation, however, was simple. There was but one fair, one license and one outfit, yet there were two gamblers. One of them had a license, but no paraphernalia; the other had paraphernalia, but no license. There was but one solution; the two found themselves compelled to “pool their issues.” In other words, the man who had thrown his rival’s wheel overboard forced the man who had owned it to divide his profits with him in consideration of being permitted to use the only wheel available.

The author was himself present at the fair where these two men operated the wheel to which reference has been made. On the way back a fearful scene was witnessed. A quarrel over “privileges” had arisen on the grounds and was continued on the boat. A gambler familiarly known as “Curley” the hog driver, a bulldozer, when heated by passion and liquor, was raising a terrible disturbance when another sporting man, Sherman Thirston, interfered to restrain him from mischief. “Curley” drew his revolver and fired three shots at Thirston, one breaking a spittoon which he held in front of him, and one grazing Lone Wolf’s forehead. Thirston advanced upon “Curley” and disarmed him.

This game derives its name from the fact that balls are used instead of cards, and that bets may be “raised” as in poker. In fact, “bluff” is resorted to in both games in about the same ratio. The method of play is exceedingly simple. All that is necessary is a cloth-covered table (usually about six feet long by three and one-half feet broad), a leather bottle, one hundred wooden or ivory balls, numbered from one to one hundred consecutively, and some “chips.” The latter are sold to the players by the proprietor at five or ten cents each. Those wishing to indulge in the game put down their “ante,” as in straight or draw poker. The “ante” is usually one chip. The person conducting the game then takes the bottle, in which the balls have been placed, in his hand, and throws them from its open mouth, one to each player. The latter then examine the little spheres which they have received and either forfeit the chips which they have already laid down or make their bets in the same manner as in playing poker. Precisely the same tactics are employed in both games. When the “call” is made the player holding the ball on which is inscribed the highest number wins the bet, by which is meant all the stakes which have been placed upon the table.

This is a favorite game in many gambling houses, especially those of an inferior class. The “house” always takes a percentage, or “rake-off,” as it is frequently called. This percentage consists of either one or two chips, as may be agreed upon. It follows that the proprietors run no risk, being absolutely certain of winning something each time that the balls are thrown. In “skin” gambling houses, however, the owners are not content with this percentage of profit. A “capper” is called into the game, who usually sits at the end of the table toward the banker’s left hand. The latter finds it necessary to be very cautious in collecting the balls from the players, lest some one who had received a high number might withhold it in order to bet upon it on the next throw. Accordingly, he examines each ball as it is returned to him. This affords him ample opportunity for holding out some high number in his hand, which he throws to his confederate the next time, thereby enabling him to bet with approximate certainty of winning everything in sight. These cappers are commonly known as “pluggers,” and are paid a stated per diem, being looked upon as regular employes.

The game, sometimes called Old Sledge and Seven-Up, is played with a full pack of fifty-two cards, which take rank as at Whist—the Ace being the highest and the Deuce the lowest.

The players cut for deal. The dealer then gives six cards to each player, three at a time, and turns up the thirteenth, if there be two players, and the twenty-fifth if there be four. The turn-up is the trump.

The non-dealer then looks at his hand, and determines whether he will hold it for play, or beg. If he is satisfied with his hand, he says, “I stand;” but if he is not satisfied with his cards, he says, “I beg,” in which case the dealer must either suffer his adversary to score one point, saying, “Take one,” or give each three more cards from the pack, and then turn up the next card, the seventh, for trumps; if however, the trump turned up be of the same suit as the first, the dealer must go on, giving each three cards more, and turning up the seventh, until a change of suit for turn-up takes place.

After these preliminaries have been settled, if two only are playing, the non-dealer leads a card, and the dealer plays a card to it; these two cards constitute a trick.

The player who plays the highest card of the suit led, or trumps, wins the trick, and has the next lead. The play proceeds in this way until all the tricks are played.

Each player must follow suit, if he can, unless he chooses to trump.

The points that may be scored are herewith given in their order of precedence.

High.—The highest trump out; the holder scores one point.

Low.—The lowest trump out; the original holder scores one point, even if it be taken by his adversary.

Jack.—The Knave of trumps. The winner of the trick containing it scores one point.

When the Jack is turned up for trump, it counts one point for the dealer, and in that case takes precedence of every other point in the score.

Game.—The greatest number that in the tricks gained, can be shown by either party; reckoning for

The other cards do not count towards game; thus it may happen that a deal may be played without either party having any score for game, by reason of holding neither face cards nornor tens.

When the players hold equal numbers, the dealer’s hand scores the point for game.

One card may count all “fours;” for example, the oldest hand holds only the jack of the trump suit, and stands his game, the dealer, having neither trump, ten, ace nor court card, it will follow that the jack will be at once high, low, jack and game.

The game consists of seven points, and the player who first scores that number wins the game. If the non-dealer is dissatisfied with his hand, he may “beg,” i. e., ask the dealer to “give” him one point on his score. If the latter refuse, he must “run the cards,” by which is meant, turn down the trump, deal three cards each to his antagonist and himself, and turn another card. If the latter happen to be of the same suit as that previously turned, it is turned over, and the “running for trumps” is continued until some card of a different suit is turned.

In four-handed Seven-up the parties usually decide who shall be partners by cutting the cards, the two highest and the two lowest playing together. The four players divide themselves into two sets, each player sitting opposite his partner, as at whist. The first deal is decided by cutting the cards, the highest cut having the deal, but afterward it is taken by each player in rotation.

The dealer and the player on his left only are permitted to look at their cards, previous to the latter deciding upon his hand, and in case he begs, the other parties must not raise their cards until the dealer announces whether he will “give one” or “run the cards” for another trump.

There can be little question but that the popular game of seven-up had its origin in the United States, although whether in the East or West is a question, the answer to which is shrouded in obscurity.

Half a century ago the wild frontiersman of Indiana and Illinois were accustomed to while away their nights by playing “High, Low, Jack,” with a greasy pack of cards, upon the head of a whiskey barrel, never quitting the game until they had consumed the contents of the barrel.

Fully as long ago the stalwart lumbermen of Maine sat down upon improvised seats in the pine woods, and devoted Sunday to the same amusement. In these early days the game was, if anything, more popular than at present, for the reason that fewer games of cards were known to the great masses of players.

Occasionally matches, which might nowadays be euphoniously designated as tournaments, were held. In the simple language of those times they were generally referred to as “bouts a keards.” It is probable that even then more or less fraud was practiced by the players, since deception seems to have been a prominent characteristic of the human family since the days of the “fall,” and when cards are played for money the temptation to cheat seems to be, to a certain class of men, irresistible. “Wet groceries” were the favorite stakes of the rough Western farmers and the Eastern lumbermen, yet play was not confined to these. Money earned by long and patient toil of the hardest sort was piled upon barrel heads or laid upon the ground, and it is doubtful whether the losers bore their losses with any more equanimity than do the same class of players to-day. But it has remained for the blackleg of these latter days to introduce into the game those finer arts such as the “half stock” and the “whole stock,” by means of which the unwary are entrapped and the gullible fleeced. To the untutored minds of the early players to whom reference has been made, the idea of reading the cards by the back would have seemed an utter absurdity; but it is true that the farmers and lumbermen have since grown wiser, through no little bitter experience. The result has been that the gamblers do not as easily find victims to-day as they did twenty-five or thirty years ago. This very circumstance shows the benefit effected by the knowledge, and it is the mission of this work to spread broadcast throughout the land such knowledge that he who may be swindled through such artifices as herein described, has only himself to blame for his folly. Infatuation and ignorance have but a poor show of success in a contest with chicanery and skill.

Some of the most common, and at the same time most effective descriptions of fraud practiced in this game will next be concisely described.

In preparing “strippers,” to be used in seven-up, the blacklegs elects either three aces or three jacks, which he leaves in the same condition as that in which they came from the manufacturer. The remainder of the pack he slightly trims down. In using a pack thus prepared the cheat takes advantage of his antagonist’s deal by drawing out these three cards from the pack by their sides, instead of giving the deck a fair, honest cut. Having drawn them out he throws them upon the top, and as a matter of course receives them as his own first three cards. If he has the deal himself he “strips” them, that is draws them out of the pack by the sides, places them on top and throws three cards over them. If his adversary has cut the pack, the gambler “shifts” the cut, as described in the chapter relative to poker. Of course his antagonist now receives the three cards which were thrown on top of the pack, while the sharper receives the three aces or jacks.

The same “brief” is employed in seven-up as in poker. It consists of one wide card which is drawn out and placed on top of the three cards,—usually an ace, deuce or jack—which have been previously arranged together. The object in using this card, as in poker, is to enable their sharper to cut the pack in such a way as to uncover the prepared hand. It may be remarked concerning both “stripper” and “briefs” that their employment is usually more easy of detection than “stocking,” when practiced by an expert, and for this reason they are not favorite devices with most of the profession in playing short games, unless their antagonist be particularly verdant.

In this arrangement of the pack the gambler, having first selected a card of any suit, places above it three others of the same suit. It is a common practice to select the high (ace) the low (deuce) and the jack; above these three others are placed. In shuffling the dealer is careful not to disturb the seven cards thus arranged. Having completed his shuffle, he offers them to be cut. After the cut he deals, as he should do, from the remainder of the pack and leaves the cut lying upon the board. The trump is fairly turned, but as he exposes it the sharper throws it to one side; he then picks up the cut with his right hand and places it on top of the remainder of the pack. His antagonist, being engaged in looking at his hand, naturally fails to observe the order in which the two halves of the pack are put together. The advantage of this maneuver is that if his adversary “begs” the dealer runs off to him the three top cards which he had previously placed together and which, of course, lie on top of the cut, which is now uppermost in the deck. He himself receives the three best cards (perhaps the ace, deuce and jack) of the same suit, which, as we have seen, laid beneath the three upper cards; he then turns a new trump, the seventh card, which, it will be remembered, was also of the same suit. He now holds the high, low and jack of the new trump suit and is naturally in a far better position than his antagonist. Of course the half stock is comparatively valueless unless his opponent begs. But in the course of a rubber the latter is reasonably certain to do this often enough to entail a serious loss upon himself.

In a case where the cards have been stocked on the system of the “whole stock,” it makes not the slightestslightest difference to the sharper whether his adversary beg or not.

The blackleg who intends to employ this artifice is careful to attempt it only when there have been but twelve cards dealt from the pack on any particular hand, for example, when he himself has “stood” on his antagonist’s deal. In picking up the twelve cards from the table he selects four cards of some one suit, of course taking care to choose the highest four which have been played during that hand. Over these four cards he places the remaining eight, above these again a thirteenth card of the same suit, which he takes from the pack. Of course, at this moment the faces of the cards are uppermost. By placing the thirteen arranged cards on the bottom and turning the pack over in order to shuffle, the former are brought to the top. In shuffling he takes great care not to disarrange the prepared thirteen. When his antagonist has cut, the sharper “shifts” the cut, as in poker, thus restoring the cards to their original position. The result is, that in dealing, the last three cards of the original twelve will necessarily fall to himself, and they will of course be of the same suit as the trump card turned.

Crimping in all games is practiced on substantially the same principle. In seven-up the dishonest gamester “crimps,” or bends down, one or more—even three high cards. Of course it is an artifice which can prove of advantage to the operator only on his adversary’s deal, in which case he cuts down to the “crimped” cards, the location of which is perceived by the bent card slightly raising those above it, from those below. If only a single ace be crimped, the result is a very heavy percentage of odds in favor of the sharper.

The object of marking the edges of the cards is practically the same as that of crimping; that is, to enable the blackleg to cut down to any desired card. The edges of the ace or jacks, or possibly of both, are very carefully marked with India ink. Cards thus prepared are useful to the cheat only on his opponent’s deal; but in the latter case he is invariably able to cut the pack in such a way that he will himself receive one of the cards thus marked.

There are two “high hands” in Seven-up, one called the “long hand,” the other the “short hand.” To run up a “long hand” requires more time than can usually be obtained by making a seemingly fair deal or turning up a jack or ten-spot. However, thousands of dollars have been won on this game, as the major hand seems to a tyro a perfectly sure hand for four points—the fact being that it is a “sure thing” the other way.

The “long hand” is a device to which professional gamblers frequently resort, and which often proves highly successful. It is introduced at a stage of the game where the pack has been “run off” to an extent sufficient to give each player nine cards. Of course, the perpetration of the trick presupposes that the pack has been carefully “stocked.” The player who is to be victimized is given the four court cards, ten-spot and deuce of some suit, e. g., of spades, together with the kings of the three other suits. The gambler has dealt himself six of the remaining spades, and the aces of hearts, diamonds and clubs. He then turns a spade—let us say the nine spot.

The reader who has mastered the explanation of the game already given, will comprehend that the dupe is certain of winning three points—the high, low and jack, and with six trumps and three kings of outside suits his chances of making “game” are apparently excellent. He is, therefore, easily induced, even if he does not himself offer, to bet that he will score four points. Now, mark the issue. The “sucker” inevitably makes his “high, low and jack,” but when the count is made for game he finds his reckoning to be 20 (ace 4, king 3, queen 2, jack 1, and ten-spot 10), to his adversary’s 21 (three aces 12, three kings 9, making 21), the result being the loss of his stake.

The “short hand” at “Seven-up” is a trick to which gamblers resort at the stage of the game when the score stands 6 to 5 in favor of the “sucker” and the “professional” has the deal. Six cards having been dealt to each player, the cheat turns up, let us say, a heart, although the particular suit is altogether immaterial, provided the pack has been properly “stocked.” When the greenhorn picks up his cards, he finds he has the aces of the three other suits. Of course, if he is an average player he “begs,” i. e., asks his adversary to “give” him one point. Inasmuch as such a “gift” would make his score seven, and decide the game in his favor, the gamester refuses. The only course remaining is to “run for a new trump.” The dupe now feels perfectly sure of winning the game. He knows that the ace is necessarily “high,” which point counts first in determining who wins the game; and inasmuch as he is aware that either hearts, diamonds or clubs must next be the trump, and he holds the ace of each of these three suits, he “bets his pile” in serene confidence that he will win. And now comes in the “fine work” of the sharper. He takes the deck and “runs off” six cards; he then turns up the seventh, which is always a jack of the suit originally turned, thus adding one to his own tally, and making the score stand 6 to 6. As the rules forbid the same suit being trump, he has to “run” again. Once more the seventh card is turned; another jack (of course of another suit) is exposed: the gambler scores another point for “turning jack,” thus making his account seven and winning the game, leaving the unlucky “sucker” to lament the cruel fate which so effectually prevented him from scoring “high” on either of his three utterly worthless aces.

It is unnecessary to enter into any detailed description of this method of fraud as practiced in seven-up, for the reason that it has been already fully explained in treating of poker. The most common means of practicing this cheat is the employment of the “bug.”

It is, however, for two objects; first to secrete an ace, ten, jack or deuce with a view to their further use, and, secondly as a means by which the sharper may deal to himself seven cards. This latter purpose, and the method by which it is achieved may be worth describing.

On the second run of the deal, the blackleg gives himself four cards instead of three. He then takes out some low card of his strongest suit, places it on top of his cards and his hand on the table. If his adversary stands, he discards some one of his seven cards into the “bug,” thus leaving the proper number in his hand. If on the other hand his antagonist begs, he runs off the desired cards and picking up his own, raises the three last received, on the one which he had previously placed upon the top of his original hand, then exclaims that he has dealt himself four cards instead of three and that the bottom card must be the trump. He thereupon turns over the card of his strongest suit and places it on the top of the deck as the trump, leaving his hand with only the proper number of cards.

Marked cards are often used by professionals in playing seven-up, but the blacklegs do not find them of nearly as great advantage as in many other games. The description of the manner in which they are prepared has already been given in the chapter on poker and need not be here repeated.

This is a very common custom with professional gamblers, who, through long practice, have acquired a manual dexterity which virtually defies detection. The first step of the sharper is to place a jack at the bottom of the pack, leaving it in that position while he deals. If his adversary cuts, the cheat “shifts the cut,” in the same manner as at poker, restoring the cards to their original position. Then, after dealing, he places his hands over the deck, in such a way as to conceal it from view. Then, grasping the pack by its outer edge with his right hand, he turns it over on the jack, simultaneously drawing the latter toward the inside, with his left hand, so that it may meet the other cards as they turn over. He all the time imparts a slight upward movement to the pack, which he finally drops upon the table.

Of course, as above explained, by “turning up jack” the dealer scores one. If, now, his opponent begs, the gambler takes occasion surreptitiously to observe the suit of the bottom card. If it happens to be the same as the strongest suit in his own hand, he repeats the trick, turning it for trump, thereby practically placing himself in a position where the chances for winning decidedly preponderate in his favor.

The sharper very commonly selects as the moment for using this stratagem, that period of the game when the score stands six to six, thus scoring the single point necessary to enable him to win.

Whist is too tedious a game for the professional gambler; it is peculiarly a game of skill, and therefore less adapted to cheating purposes, than are many others, the issue of which depends more upon chance. At one time both long and short whist were very popular at evening parties, but neither of them was ever a general game for money in this country, and even as a pastime Euchre has far surpassed it in public favor.

Still, trickery may be employed with telling effect, and the professional blackleg brings his ill-directed skill to bear upon it in a variety of ways.

The chief advantage to be obtained by the deal is with a “second,” and the gambler who is sufficiently dexterous to give the aces, kings and queens to himself and his partner can make the “odd trick” every time he deals.

“Signing up” between partners is also an essential element in fraudulent whist playing. For although each confederate has a general knowledge of the contents of his partner’s hand, yet there are critical periods in the game, especially when one of the two holds uncertain cards, when “signing up” is of great value in determining the event with absolute certainty. This secret telegraphy is arranged beforehand between the pair of swindlers, the signals for “suit” and “size” being mutually agreed upon; and where the understanding is perfect the defeat of any honest players with whom they may be contending, is a moral certainty.

“” ‘’ Another favorite device of card sharpers is to “ring in a cold deck,” by which is meant the substitution of a pack of cards having precisely similar backs as those used in the game, but which have been previously so arranged that while the greenhorns shall receive excellent hands, it is a matter of utter impossibility for them to score the odd trick. The substitution having been effected, one of the swindlers contrives some excuse for not looking at his hand until after his antagonists shall have examined theirs. Perhaps he lights a cigar, protesting that it will not “draw.” After the dupes have seen their cards, he proposes a wager—“just to make it interesting”—that he and his partner will win the odd trick. He adds that he will bet on his hand “unsight, unseen.” The honest player usually protests that he has looked at his cards already. “O, well,” says the blackleg; “never mind that. I’m in for a ‘spec,’ and if you want a little ‘go,’ I’m your man for twenty or so.”so.” At this point, the moral (?) companion of the sharper interferes with a protest. He doesn’t believe in betting on a friendly game; money is not so easily made that it can be thrown away, etc., etc. But this is so artfully said as to stimulate rather than to check the greenhorn’s desire to bet. A little more conversation almost invariably results in the making of a wager, the limit of which is determined by the purse and the verdancy of the victim. The stakes having been placed the game proceeds. The inevitable result follows: The “suckers” win the first six tricks and the sharpers the last seven and the money. The original pack had been put out of sight and the dupes rarely discover the manner in which they have been swindled, even if they suspect that any fraud whatever has been practised.

To illustrate the manner in which a pack of cards has been prepared for this purpose, let us suppose a party seated at the whist table. A, a sharper, deals to B, his verdant antagonist, the ace, king, queen, knave, ten and nine of hearts, which we will assume to be trumps; the ace, king, queen and knave of clubs; and the ace, king and queen of spades; the hand being, of course, void of diamonds. Every whist player would recognize this as an exceedingly strong, if not an impregnable, hand. But observe what A gives himself and his partner; the eight, seven, six, five, four, three and deuce of trumps, and of the rest of the pack, it is a matter of indifference. Now, mark the result. B leads off with his trumps, of which he has six; A follows suit every time, having seven; next B leads his ace of spades, which A takes with his remaining trump. The lead being now with the latter, he plays his six diamonds, each one of which, of course, takes a trick, the blackleg thus securing the odd trick. In considering a trick of this kind, the average man is at a loss whether to admire its ingenuity or condemn its rascality.

This is one of the games of cards usually first taught to children and commonly considered too simple to interest matured minds. As a matter of fact, to play it successfully requires an exercise of memory second only to that necessary in playing at Whist.

It is not a favorite with gamblers for the reason that it presents comparatively few opportunities of using the advantages so dear to the heart of the blackleg. At the same time “eminent professionals” have been known to win $1,000 on a single game, and I have myself played for (and won) $50 on the hazard of one hand. It is related of “Canada Bill,” elsewhere referred to as the “king of the monte men,” that he deceived himself into believing that he understood the game. While he was making his headquarters in Kansas City he was wont to make short trips upon the railways centering there, from which he would not infrequently return with $2,000 or $3,000. He was then willing to have a bout at casino (and he would play no other game) for from $100 to $500 with any one who offered. Shrewd rascal as he was, he was the veriest tyro—in fact a “sucker”—at his own favorite pastime, and the blacklegs of the place used to fleece him unmercifully.

The main reliance of the gambler at this game, however, is in the superior skill resulting from careful study and long practice. An expert gamester can always tell the cards remaining in the pack at the commencement of the last deal, even on a perfectly fair game.

Of course “paper,” i.e., marked cards, are invaluable to the cheat at this as at all other games, and this is really the principal scheme of fraud of any importance ever attempted at this game. Occasionally, when a professional is playing with a greenhorn, he will contrive to keep a nine spot on top of his pile of tricks, which he uses in “building” to suit himself. Sometimes also a card of some low denomination (e.g. the three spot of hearts) is substituted for the ace of spades, which the sharper abstracts and conceals, placing it among his tricks and using it in counting his own points for game. This is rather unsafe, however, as the duplicate cards occasionally come together.

Casino is an amusement frequently affected by broken down gamblers, whose depleted resources do not permit them to “sit in” a game of poker, and who seek to rehabilitate their fallen fortunes by playing casino for a stake of five cents on a game of twenty-one points.

Perhaps no game is more universally played in the United States than Euchre. It is pre-eminently a social amusement. While it does not possess the absorbing fascination of whist, it permits free and unrestrained conversation among the players, which circumstance has unquestionably contributed largely to its popularity.

It is probable that it originated in the Western States, but its devotees are to-day confined to no section, and the pastime finds its defenders alike in the saloon, the gaming “hell” and the drawing room.

To be a successful Euchre player calls for the exercise of excellent judgment, considerable finesse and no little boldness. As it is never played with a pack of more than thirty-two cards, this game does not afford so many opportunities for fraud, but the slightest advantage which can be gained, tells with unfailing certainty.

In fleecing victims at euchre, professional gamblers resort to many of the practices which are so successfully employed at “seven-up.” “Marked” or “advantage cards,” are among the most common devices of the sharpers.

“Strippers” are also found extremely useful. These are prepared in the same manner as in all other games, i. e. by removing—either from each side or both ends—a narrow, triangular “strip,” not wider than one-sixteenth of an inch at the widest part. One of the “surest things” is to have the cards cut for two jack “strippers,” which the “professional” can strip on the top of the pack on his opponent’s deal, thus securing two bowers. Sometimes one jack of a red and one of a black suit are selected for this purpose, but it is usually considered better to use two jacks of the same color, for the reason that should a trump of that color be turned, (which is likely to occur at least half the time) the cheat is sure of both bowers. This, as every euchre player knows, gives an immense advantage. Yet this trick is not always certain to win; sometimes “luck” will favor the honest player, and it is recorded that a guileless and unsuspecting neophyte once won sixteen consecutive games from a blackleg who trusted to this expedient. Such instances, however, are almost as rare as ice in the tropics; and any man is utterly devoid of sense who imagines that he is safe in trusting to chance, as against skill combined with chicanery.

“Briefs” may also be advantageouslyadvantageously used at euchre. The gambler places a “brief” above two bowers, or a bower and an ace, and the cut is made down to it on his adversary’s deal, thus insuring at least two high cards.

“Stocking” is far more easily accomplished at this game than at either poker or “seven-up,” and the gamester who is proficient in arranging the cards for either of the other two games finds it an easy matter to “put up” a deck for euchre, although it is absolutely essential to his success that he should be an expert at “shifting the cut.”

“Crimping” is practiced precisely as in “seven-up,” the most common device being to “crimp” a jack and then cut to it. The sharper also not infrequently marks the edges of the bowers with India ink, whereby he is always able so to cut the pack as to be certain of securing one of these desirable cards, with the chance of another one should two happen to lie together.

As in poker, the “bug” is sometimes used for “holding out” a valuable card—e. g., a bower or ace, and sometimes two. A card “held out” is occasionally “palmed;” by which is meant that it is concealed by the black-leg in the palm of his hand when the pack is handed him to cut. He then adroitly drops it on top, lightly taps the deck and allows the cards to run. If the gambler wishes to palm a card on his own deal, he places it on top of the pack as described and either makes a false cut or shuffles the pack through once without disturbing the one palmed.

However, although these nefarious artifices are constantly practiced by black-legs upon the unsophisticated player, it is only right to say that the “profession” does not regard euchre with favor as a game at which quick and large returns may be realized. It is mainly employed to fleece victims through a device technically called the “high hand,” which, as thus used, has very generally supplanted “three card monte” on railroad trains and steamboats. These conveyances are most commonly selected by this class of card sharps as the theater of their exploits. In the operation of this scheme of fraud, two confederates act in concert. Usually the game is commenced by “roping in” two greenhorns to make up a euchre party, “just for amusement,” or possibly for stakes, which are merely nominal. As soon as a fairly good hand has been obtained by one of the pair and the next deal is to fall to his confederate, he “plays it alone,” his accomplice gathering in the tricks as they are made. As he does so he can easily arrange the cards so that when dealt they will inevitably fall into “poker hands,” that is, into “single pairs,” “full houses,” “four of a kind,” etc.—for an explanation of which terms the reader is referred to the chapter on “Poker and Poker Players.” One of the sharpers at once offers to bet at poker; his ally accepts the gauntlet thus thrown down, the stakes are put up, and the bet won. As soon as occasion offers these tactics are repeated, until finally one of the “suckers,” who has been given what would be an extraordinarily strong hand at “bluff,” is induced to bet. The stakes are at once “raised,” as at poker, and when the hands are shown, the victim always finds that he has lost, for the reason that the sharper always holds a hand “just a little higher.”higher.”

WhenWhen a “gudgeon” displays an unusual reluctance to “snap at the bait” sometimes he is given four kings—a hand which only four aces or a “royal flush” can beat. If he still hesitates the confederate who sits next to him shows him an ace in his own hand, thereby convincing him that his adversary, at best, cannot have four aces, and inducing him to believe that he has a “sure thing.” When the “show-down” comes the dupe is amazed to be confronted by four aces in his opponent’s hand! The explanation is simple; the pack had five aces.