IN dealing with a subject of so wide a character as that upon which we are engaged, the difficulty of beginning at the beginning is greater than may appear to a casual reader. There are so many points from which it may be attacked. As to treating of all that is known in reference to it, or tracing it back to the earliest records, that, of course, is out of the question in the limited space at our disposal. Even were one historically inclined, who can say where the beginning begins. Doubtless, one would have to search the geological formations at great depth in order to discover remains of that man who first conceived the idea of correcting fickle fortune at the expense of his fellows. If science ever achieves this discovery, we shall certainly have reasonable grounds for believing that we have found a very near relative of Adam.
Although the general public have so little acquaintance with the higher developments of cheating, still, a great deal has been written concerning some of the more elementary methods. This being so, the question of what ought to be left out at what point we ought to take up the thread of our discourse becomes of paramount importance. Obviously, it is useless to repeat what is well-known.
Many of these primitive methods, however, are still so frequently practiced, that this book would be incomplete without some reference at least being made to the more important among them. Therefore, with a view to clearing the ground for what is to follow, and for the benefit of the general reader, this chapter will be devoted to the more familiar systems of ‘sharping.’ There is, perhaps, no field of operation so prolific in specimens of the genus ‘sharp’ as a race-course and its approaches upon the occasion of a popular race-meeting. For our present purpose, therefore, we cannot do better than to imagine, for the moment, that we are on our way to some such gathering. Arriving at the London terminus, in good time for our train, we take our seats in a second-class smoking compartment. Possibly the only other occupants of the carriage at first are two or three holiday makers, on pleasure bent. Not really sporting men, but average citizens, looking forward to the excitement of the race, and also possibly to the pleasurable anxiety of a little ‘flutter,’ at long odds or otherwise.
It is not long before the other seats are all occupied. A man of decidedly ‘sporting’ appearance, with a field-glass slung over his shoulder, and carrying a thick traveling rug, strolls leisurely by the door, merely glancing in as he passes. In a few moments, however, he returns, and takes a middle seat in the compartment. Then follow two or three others, averaging in appearance something between sporting characters and second-rate commercial travelers. These take whatever seats may happen to be vacant, and either become absorbed in their newspapers or enter into conversation with their neighbors, as the case may be. The experienced reader will have no need to be told that we are associating with a gang working the ‘three-card trick.’ The man in sporting attire is the ‘sharp,’ and those who accidentally (?) dropped in after him are his confederates. No sooner is the train well on its way, than our friend of the field-glasses takes down his rug from the rack, folds it across his knees, and producing a pack of cards, selects three generally a king and two others which he throws, face upward, upon the rug.
‘Now, gentlemen,’ he says,’ I think we’ll have a little game, just to pass the time. Anyhow, if it amuses me, it won’t hurt you.’ With these or some such words by way of preface, he takes up the three cards, and throws them, one at a time, face downward, upon the rug. Then, with much rapidity, he transposes the positions of the cards several times, and observes, ‘Now, tell me which is the king, and stake your money.’
Having thus attracted attention, he commences again. At this point, one of the confederates looks calmly up from his paper, and murmurs something to his neighbor about ‘making one’s expenses.’ Probably, also, he will produce a couple of sovereigns.
‘Now, gentlemen,’ continues the sharp, ‘there are two cards for you,’ taking them up ‘and one card for me. The king is mine,’ taking it up ‘the ace and the seven are yours.’ Then, with everyone in the carriage following his movements, he again throws the cards down and manipulates them as before. ‘ Now, tell me which is my card, he says. Nobody responds, however; and the sharp picks up the king, which proves to be in the position where one would expect to find it. Indeed, the on-looker who could not follow the king through its various evolutions would be dull of perception.
Again and again the performance is repeated, and every time the on-lookers can follow the movements of the king with the utmost ease. At length, in response to an appeal from the operator ‘not to be backward, gentlemen,’ the confederate who produced the sovereigns a little while ago suddenly dashes one down on the card which all believe to be the king. The card is turned up, and proves to be the right one, consequently he receives the amount of his stake.
At the next turn another confederate stakes a sovereign, and wins. The same thing follows with a third. Then, perhaps, the first stakes two sovereigns, and again wins. Not only so, but taking advantage of the obviously unsuspicious nature of the operator, he picks up the card himself, and in so doing accidentally bends one corner up slightly.
Now everyone has heard of the three-card trick, though not one in a thousand knows how it is worked. Consequently, the uninitiated among our associates, finding that they are able to trace the king unerringly, begin to think that, either this operator is a duffer, or that they are particularly sharp fellows. Besides, there is the king, going about with a turned-up corner, and losing money for the performer at every turn. Small wonder, then, that their cupidity is aroused, and at length one of them stakes a sovereign on the card with the turned-up corner. And he wins? Oh, dear no ! By some, un-accountable mischance, the king has become straightened in the course of manipulation, and a corner of one of the other cards has been turned up. Singular, is it not? Of course the loser cannot complain, or he would have to admit that he had been trying to take an unfair advantage of his opponent. Therefore he resolves to trust entirely to his judgment in the future.
Then, for the first time, apparently, the operator notices the defective corner and straightens it. Again the cards are thrown down, and the last player, thinking to retrieve his loss, stakes another sovereign. He has kept his eyes intently upon the king, as it passed from side to side and back to the center. He feels confident of success this time ; but there is a mistake somewhere, for again he loses.
And so the game goes on, with unvarying result. Whenever one of the first two or three players the confederates stakes his money, he always wins. Everyone else always loses. Eventually, the game is discontinued; either owing to the fact that no more stakes are to be had, or that we are approaching our destination.
Upon leaving the train, if we are curious, we may easily discover which of our late companions are the confederates. They leave the carriage to all appearance perfect strangers to one another ; but follow one of them at a distance, and it will be found that they are fairly well- acquainted when not professionally employed.
This trick is an extremely simple one ; and is accomplished as follows.
When the cards are taken some of the movements
are not exactly what they appear to be, their real nature is skillfully disguised. Of this the three card trick is a good example. When the sharp observes his pigeon getting ready to be plucked, he changes his tactics slightly from the straightforward course he has hitherto pursued. The cards appear to be thrown down in the same manner as before, but it is not so. In this case, No. 1 card is thrown down in No. 1 position, as at the outset ; but, instead of throwing down No. 2 the king in No. 2 position, it is card No. 3 which is allowed to fall, and the king goes finally into position 3. Thus the uninitiated, instead of following up the king, as they fondly believe, are really on the trail of card No. 3.
It will be readily understood that the turned-up corner can present no difficulty to a sharp who has devoted a little practice to its rectification. The act of throwing down the cards is quite sufficient to cover all the movement which is necessary.
Instead of ear-marking the card by turning up a corner, the confederate will sometimes tear off a very minute scrap from his newspaper, and, wetting it, will attach it to a corner of the card as he turns it up. When this is done, the operator of course contrives to slip the moistened fragment from one card to another.
Leaving our three-card acquaintances to their own devices though, perhaps, our duty would be to give them into the hands of the police we will proceed to the race -course.
Space will not permit us here to consider the numerous evil devices for acquiring the root of all evil indulged in by race-course sharps. In fact, these scarcely form part of our subject. Some of them, such as ‘telling the tale,’ and so on, are more or less ingenious ; but at best they are merely vulgar swindles which involve no skill beyond the exercise of that tact and plausibility which are common to sharps and swindlers of every kind.
Pursuing our investigations, then, let us suppose that we now approach one of the spots where winners and losers, sharps and flats, meet on the common ground of applying meat and drink to the refreshment of body and soul. Here, if we are favored, we may chance to meet with a little entertainment intellectual and instructive provided by the spectacle of three persons who are engaged in the scientific recreation of spinning coins upon some convenient corner of table or buffet. Needless to say, they are two ‘sharps’ and a ‘flat’ and their little game is 1 odd man.’
The game is simple, but financially there is a good deal in it. It is played in this way. Three coins being spun on edge upon a table, it is obvious that either all three will fall with the same side up in which case the spin must be repeated or, two will fall one way and one the other. The owner of the latter coin is the ‘odd man.’ There are two systems of playing. Either the odd man is out that is to say, he stands aside, whilst the other two spin for ‘head’ or ‘woman’ or the odd man pays. In either case, the loser pays the other two. If fairly played, of course the chances are equal for all three players. But, alas! even this apparently innocent game is capable of sophistication.
The method of cheating will be seen at a glance on referring to fig. 2.
A coin which has been slightly beveled to one side will bear a superficial examination without creating suspicion as to its genuineness. If it has a milled edge, it must necessarily be re-milled. Such a coin, when spun on edge, will always tend to fall in one direction. The beveling, as shown in the figure, is exaggerated, for distinctness’ sake ; in practice, the angle is very slight.
Two ‘sportsmen’ each provided with coins of this descrip- tion, meet with a ‘mug’ and propose spinning for liquid refreshment. If they are pretty sure of their man they may possibly allow him to win. Afterwards, how- ever, they lead him on to spin for higher stakes, and then he invariably loses.
If the game is ‘odd man pays,’ they spin with coins which will fall alike ; simultaneously changing their coins from time to time, so that they do not always bring them same side up. This being so, all three coins must either fall alike, or else the dupe will be the odd man. Then he pays each of his companions the amount of the stakes.
Thus, the chances are dead against the dupe, for his opponents cannot possibly lose. When the game is ‘odd man out,’ the winnings are not made so rapidly ; but at the same time they are quite as certain, and the proceedings are not so liable to create suspicion. In this case, the sharps spin, with coins which will fall in different directions, and consequently the dupe is never the odd man. His coin is bound to fall the same way as one of the others ; so he has to spin again with one or other of the ‘rooks.’ If the second spin is ‘head wins,’ the sharp will use a coin which falls ‘head.’ Here, again, the coins must either fall alike, and the spin be repeated, or the dupe must lose.
To disarm suspicion, however, the second spin may occasionally be a fair one; his opponent using a ‘square’ coin. Even then, the chances are two to one against him. Supposing the stakes are a sovereign, the loser has to pay the two winners a sovereign each; and therefore if the dupe loses he has to pay two sovereigns, whilst, if he wins, he receives only one. So much, then, for ‘odd man.’
If we search the purlieus of the race-course, we are sure to find the ‘purse trick’ well in evidence. A good many people seem to get a living at it, yet there is not much mystery connected with it. Its accomplishment rests purely on sleight of hand. We are all familiar with the purse purporting to contain a half-crown and a shilling which the salesman offers to dispose of for the modest amount of sixpence or so. It is extraordinary, however, how few know wherein the trick lies. For the benefit of those who are unacquainted with it, the following short description is given.
The man throws a half-crown and a shilling into a two-penny purse, and the price demanded for the whole may vary from sixpence to eighteen pence, according to circumstances. Sometimes the purse, when purchased, is found to contain the actual amount ostensibly put into it. ‘Springes to catch woodcocks !’ The purchaser is a confederate. In the event of a stranger buying it, the contents will prove to be a penny and a halfpenny. The operator really throws the half-crown and shilling into the purse several times ; turning them out again into his hand, to show the genuineness of the transaction. Or, he may spin them in the air, and catch them in the purse by way of variety. But when the time for selling arrives, although he does not appear to have changed his tactics in the least, the transmutation of metals becomes an accomplished fact, silver is converted to bronze.
The man has a money-bag slung in front of him, into which he is continually dipping his hand, for the purpose of taking out or returning the coins. This bag seems to contain only silver, but there is a vein of baser metal underlying the nobler. Therefore, in taking out a half- crown, nothing is easier than for the man to palm a penny at the same time. This being done, it is the penny which goes into the purse, and the half-crown is transferred, for the moment, to his palm ; but only for the moment. It is dropped, immediately, into the bag ; so that, by the time that his hand has fallen to his side, it is empty. That is one dodge. Another is to take the half crown and penny together in the fingers, the penny underlying the half-crown, concealed from view. Then the penny is dropped and the half-crown palmed as before. Again, the half-crown and shilling being really in the purse, the man will take them out with his fingers, apparently for the purpose of showing them to the multitude, at the same time introducing into the purse three halfpence which he has held concealed. Then he appears to throw the silver coins quickly into the purse, but in reality he palms them, the sound made by the coins in falling being counterfeited by chinking the coppers which the purse already contains. A variation upon this trick is sometimes performed with a piece of paper in which is screwed up some article of cheap jewellery, and into which the coins are supposed to be thrown, as in the purse trick. These men adopt various methods of explaining their reasons for selling so much money at so cheap a rate, one of the most common being that someone has laid a wager that the public are too sceptical to buy money offered in that manner. Well, such a wager would be a tolerably safe one ; for, as a rule, the public are only skeptical concerning those things which are genuine. It is probably because the purse-trick is not genuine that the tricksters find purchasers. It is always the swindle which takes best with the public. Certainly, anyone who is taken in over this trick deserves to be.
On our way home in the train we may, perhaps, encounter a party playing ‘Nap.’ It may be a friendly game, fairly played or it may not. If it is not, we shall undoubtedly find that one of the players loses heavily. It is only penny Nap, he is told. Yes, but one can lose a good deal, in a small way, even at penny Nap. Especially if the other players know the best and quickest way of winning.
The most ordinary way of cheating at this game consists of ‘putting up’ hands for the dupe and one of the other players. The methods of accomplishing this maneuver will be fully detailed in the chapter on ‘Manipulation.’ For the present, it is sufficient to say that the cards are so manipulated that the dupe has always a good hand. So far, this looks as though matters should prove very favorable to the dupe; therefore, he frequently goes ‘Nap’ It always happens, however, that one of the other players holds a hand which is slightly better. The dupe may even hold the ace, king, queen, and knave of one suit, and the ace of another. By every law of the game he is bound to go ‘Nap,’ and win. So he makes his long suit trumps, feeling that he has a ‘certainty.’ But when the cards are played, it turns out that one of his opponents holds five small trumps against his four big ones, and he loses on the last round.
An incident of this kind is reported, where the dupe, in a two-handed game, being rendered suspicious by the eagerness of those about him to wager that he would not make his Nap, instead of leading out his long suit, made his odd ace the trump, and thereby won. In a game of mere than two players, this could be prevented by one of the others holding two cards of the same suit as the ace. Moral Don’t gamble with strangers. It is never safe ; particularly in a railway train.
The foregoing being sufficient to give the reader a general idea of the common sharp and his methods, no more need be said with regard to this elementary branch of our subject. It will be sufficient to point out that the sharp usually devotes his entire energies to perfecting himself in some particular game. Having found his victim, he feigns indifferent play, and encourages the dupe to ‘take him on.’ No matter how skillful he may be, he never allows any evidence of the fact to escape him. One does not find a card-sharper, for instance, entertaining his chance acquaintances with card-tricks at least, not to their knowledge. To use the language which he would probably adopt, such a proceeding would be ‘giving himself away with a pound of tea.’
The sharp’s motto is, ‘Art is to conceal art ; ‘ and his success in life depends very greatly upon the strict observation of this maxim.
Skill, however, is not the only qualification necessary to the successful sharp. He must have unbounded self- confidence if his wiles are to be of any avail. In addition, he must also possess tact and address, for upon these two qualities will depend the grade of society into which he will be enabled to carry his operations. Given a liberal endowment of these two attributes, there is no circle, however high or however select, into which the sharp will not ultimately penetrate. The public have occasionally an opportunity of peeping behind the scenes, but the cases of cheating which come to light bear a very small proportion to those which are condoned or hushed up, and the number of these again is nothing when compared with the infinity of cases which are never discovered.
All the comparatively insignificant matters dealt with so far are of course common knowledge to many. As before mentioned, however, the general public know very little of them, otherwise the numbers who gain a living by such means could not exist. It is for this reason only that they have been even referred to here. Other and far more ingenious trickeries call for our attention, and to these we will now pass on.