Chapter VI: Manipulation (2)

It is in connection with the riffle that the most skilful putting-up is accomplished, but much practice and experience are required to enable the manipulation to be performed with certainty. In theory, however, the process is simple. It consists of riffling between the selected cards the proper number of indifferent ones. Suppose that in a game of Nap the required cards have been put at the top of the pack. The cards are divided and riffled, taking care that none are allowed to go between the selected ones except the first and second, which must have the proper number between them. If there are three players, this number will, of course, be two. All that is necessary to effect this is to hold up the top card with one thumb, and the last two cards of the other half with the other thumb. The two cards are allowed to fall upon the second of the selected cards, and the top one is dropped over them. It is with the second and following riffles, however, that the difficulty comes in. In the second riffle, four cards have to be held up and two dropped under them. In the third riffle, seven cards have to be held up, and in the fourth, ten. The fifth riffle merely puts two cards above the top selected card, and the shuffle is complete. The great difficulty is to know that the right number of cards is held up each time, and that the right number is put between them. It seems almost impossible that it can be done with certainty, but there are plenty of sharps who can do it readily enough without any mistake whatever. In fact, some are so skilful with this shuffle that they can find any cards they please by looking at the turned-up corners, and place them in any position they please within the pack.

In the game of Poker, when the pack has been stocked for draft, either at the top or the bottom, after the cut the sharp will place the two halves together in the proper manner, but leaving a little break between them. Thus he is enabled to know when the stocked cards are being given off and who has them. Or he may manage to hold back any that would be of use to him. If the cards are held inclined slightly upwards, he may frequently be enabled to draw back the top card as in the 'second-deal,' and give off the next ones.

There is a single-handed pass sometimes used to bring the stock to the top, which is performed under cover of the right arm whilst reaching to the left. The cards are held upon a level with the table-top, and as the arm passes over them, those which are above the stock are pressed with the fingers of the left hand against the right elbow. Thus they are held for the moment whilst the others are drawn from beneath, and as the right arm returns, the stocked cards are brought to the top. In this way the entire operation is performed under cover of the arm, and is therefore undiscernible.

Where a confederate is available to cut the pack, there is a form of false cut which appears to pass muster in America pretty well. It consists of merely grasping the pack in both hands, lifting it off the table, and pulling it apart, so to speak. The half which comes from the bottom is drawn upwards, thus appearing to come from the top, in the same manner as the cards in the bottom-deal. At the same time, the top half is drawn downwards, appearing to come from the bottom. Then, when the two halves are put together in their original position, it looks as though the lower half had been put upon the upper. Quickly done, this ruse is fairly successful.

Another form of false cut is somewhat similar in effect to the French card-sharper's shuffle, and is used to retain a 'top stock' in its place. A third of the pack, or thereabouts, is taken off with the right hand, and the remainder is cut in two with the left. The top cards are now placed upon those which remain on the table, the second lot are thrown down beside them, and upon these the other two packets are placed as one, bringing the top cards into their original position. Thus, whilst the pack is really cut into three, the only effect of the cut is to bring the bottom cards into the middle; a result which is of no consequence where only a top stock is concerned.

We may conclude the present chapter with a description of the system of cheating known as 'Counting-down.' This is a method which is not by any means so familiar to the masses as those with which we have just been dealing. It is one of those devices which seem to lie within the borderland between honesty and dishonesty; although, when one understands its real nature, there is no question as to the fact that it really _is_ cheating, and nothing else. It is the most scientific mode of swindling, in games where only a few cards constitute a hand, that has ever been devised, and it is so good that it almost defies detection, even at the hands of an expert. It is just that one word 'almost,' however, which qualifies its absolute perfection. There is always some weak point in a trick, however good.

Counting down is one of those operations which depend more on memory than sleight of hand. It requires long practice and much skill, but the skill is rather mental than manipulative. It is necessary that the sharp who practises it should be able to memorise instantly as many cards as possible. Comparatively few persons can remember more than five cards at a glance. Not one in a thousand can remember ten. There are some, however, who can remember the order of a whole pack of fifty-two cards, after seeing them dealt out rather slowly. Needless to say there are not many individuals of the latter class. All, however, use some system of artificial memory. Without something of the kind, counting-down would be impracticable.

The object of this system, of course, is to enable the sharp to know the sequence of a certain number of cards which are to be introduced into the play, and thus to be certain of their value, and also of the hands in which they are to be found. The possession of this knowledge is of the utmost importance sometimes.

As a readily understood and familiar example, let us suppose that the sharp is engaged in a single-handed game of Nap, and that he can remember twelve cards, together with the order in which they occur. His first duty will be to note the manner in which his opponent usually cuts, whether near the middle of the pack, near the top or the bottom. Most people have some peculiarity in this way which may be relied on. Suppose then the sharp finds that the other man's cut is generally pretty well in the centre. When it is his turn to deal, in the act of shuffling he will place twelve cards in rapid succession at the bottom of the pack, at the same time holding the pack so that the faces of the cards are visible. He notes these twelve cards, and the order in which they occur. At the conclusion of the shuffle he leaves just so many cards over them as he thinks the other will take off in the cut; consequently, after cutting, those cards will be at the top or nearly so. If the sharp is fortunate the cut will come into the first one or two of them, and then when the cards are dealt, he knows by looking at his own hand precisely what cards his opponent holds. If his own hand will allow him to 'go more' than his opponent feels inclined to risk, he will do so, if not he allows his opponent to play. In either case he knows perfectly well what the result of the hand will be before a single card is put down. Of course if the case should be that he is playing against an unmistakable 'Nap' hand, and that he has no cards the skilful playing of which will prevent the other man from winning, he is bound to accept the inevitable. But it is obvious that the advantages he enjoys, compared with his antagonist, are enormous.

With a sharp who works the bottom-deal, the memorising of five cards only is sufficient. He notes the five cards and leaves them at the bottom of the pack which is given to be cut. After the cutting, he picks up the bottom half of the pack, leaving the other upon the table. If the five cards at the bottom are good ones he deals them to himself, but if, on the contrary, they are little ones, which would make a bad hand, he deals them to his opponent. He will always let the opponent have them unless they are exceptionally good, because it is worth more than half the game to know what cards one has to contend with.

It is in the game of 'Poker,' however, that counting-down is of the greatest assistance. The cards are dealt round five to each player, and we will suppose it is the sharp's turn to deal next. He throws his hand, face downwards, on the table, and puts the rest of the pack on top of it. He therefore knows the five bottom cards of the pack, having memorised his hand. Even though some of the other players may understand counting-down, no one will suspect that any trickery is in progress, as the whole proceeding is quite usual and perfectly natural.

Having the whole of the cards in a heap in front of him, the sharp now takes them up to straighten or level them, somewhat ostentatiously keeping their faces turned well away from him, so that he cannot see a single card. He does not overdo this appearance of honesty however. That would be almost as fatal as an appearance of cheating.

The cards being straightened, the shuffle has now to be accomplished. In this case it will be one of the second, or partial order. The sharp takes good care, in riffling down or what not, to leave undisturbed the five cards he has memorised, and finally to have them in such a position within the pack, that the cut and deal will leave them at the top. His object, of course, is to have the choice of those five cards in the draft. If he has been fortunate in his manipulation, the card which comes to him on the last round of the deal will be one of those five. In that case he knows the value of the two or three top cards, and looking at his hand he can tell whether either of them will be of use to him when it comes to his turn to draw. If so, in giving off the draft to the other players, he may, if opportunity serves, hold back the card or cards he requires. Then the other hands being complete, he can throw away a corresponding number of indifferent cards from his hand and take the selected ones for himself. Generally speaking, this method will enable him to retain and utilise a card which, otherwise, he would have thrown away as being useless, and very often enable him to make 'two pair.'

It is manifest that however skilfully this may be done, there is a strong element of uncertainty attaching to the result. The player who cuts the pack may not divide it in the right place by a card or two, and therefore it might happen that the whole of the five cards may be distributed in the deal. But it is bound to come right sometimes, and then it is worth all the trouble and annoyance of the previous failures; but whether it is successful or not, it is done as a matter of routine, and if only for the sake of practice, every time the sharp has to deal. He cannot exercise himself too much in such a difficult operation. Still there is a good bit of chancework about it which is not at all acceptable to the sharp, and to obviate this two sharps will often work in secret partnership. The dealer, having memorised his own hand, which he has plenty of time to do thoroughly, waits until his partner's cards are done with. When that moment arrives, the accomplice passes his cards to the dealer in such a way that their faces can be seen. These must be remembered at a glance. The dealer has now ten cards to work with instead of five, and thus the chances are far more than proportionately greater. Some of the known cards are _sure_ to be at the top of the pack, ready for the draft, and looking at the last card which has fallen to him on the deal, the sharp can tell what they are. If, in addition, it is the confederate who cuts the cards, of course the game becomes too strong to be beaten. He is sure to cut the pack at the right place.

If the sharp is a fine shuffler, with a good memory, well-trained in this class of work, he can dispense with an accomplice, and do quite as well without one. Supposing it to be his turn to deal next, he looks at his hand, and if the cards he holds are not of much consequence, he 'passes,' that is, he stands out of the game for the time being. Meanwhile he gathers up the pack and discards, and keeping the faces of the cards turned away from him he evens them up in readiness for the deal. Then he waits until the two or three hands that are being played are called or shown up. With a glance, he remembers as many of these cards as he conveniently can, places them either at the top or bottom of the pack and 'holds' them during the shuffle, arranging their position in the pack as in the former cases.

The last card which comes to him on the deal being one of these, he knows the sequence of several of the top cards which remain in the pack. Consequently he not only knows what he is giving off in the draft to others, but also what remains for him when it is his turn to draw. If, then, it suits him best to discard, as to which he does not stand in doubt as the other players do, he throws away according to the nature of the cards he will have to draw from the pack to replace his discards. It really is just the same thing as though he had two hands dealt to him instead of one. He has the opportunity of making his selection from at least twice as many cards as either of his opponents.

Unless the reader should happen to be himself a high-class sharp, he can have no idea of how well this is done by some men who make it their speciality. It is a method which renders a good shuffler--expressive term--with a good system of artificial memory, well-nigh invincible at such a game as Poker. Counting-down is simple, when you can do it; it is impossible of detection by ordinary players, and best of all, _even smart gamblers will stand the work_. After that no more need be said about it.

From the contents of this chapter, the expert reader will see that in so far as manipulation pure and simple is concerned, the sharp of to-day is in a position very little better than that of his prototype of fifty years ago. If we except the improved methods of 'stocking' and so on, which have resulted from the introduction of new shuffles and certain methods of preparing the cards, there are hardly any new developments to record.

That this should be so, and indeed must of necessity be so, will be evident to anyone who has made a study of card-tricks. There are only certain manipulations possible in connection with fifty-two pieces of pasteboard. Generations of keen intellects have already made a study of their possibilities; and like the 'old poets, fostered under friendlier skies,' these have stolen all the best ideas from their unhappy successors. And the worst of it is the ideas have become more or less common property.

To invent a new deception in the way of the manipulation of cards is for all the world like trying to make a new proposition in 'Euclid.' That ancient humb--philosopher I should say--has covered the whole ground; much to the disgust of that hypothetical example of encyclopædic information known as 'any schoolboy.' In our time we have all of us tempered our regret that so great a philosopher should ever die, with the far greater regret that he should ever have lived. His loss would have been 'any schoolboy's' infinite gain. Well, man is born to Euclid as the sparks fly upward, and there is no dodging the difficulty.

It is just the same in the fraudulent manipulation of cards. All that can be done has been done. If it were not so the sharp would be the gainer, therefore it is better as it is.

Nowadays, however, it is quite possible to be a first-rate sharp without being capable of performing the simplest feat of dexterity. This sounds very much like saying that a man might be a thorough mathematician without knowing the multiplication-table, but the cases are not exactly upon all fours. It is quite possible to reason logically without having made the acquaintance of that maid of mystery 'Barbara'; and it is quite possible in like manner to be able to cheat without having recourse to manipulation. It is a thing which is not necessary, and more often than not it is attended with the risk of detection.

The sharp has gone further afield in the augmentation of his resources. He has pressed into his service every device that human ingenuity can conceive or rascality execute, every contrivance that skill can produce, and even the forces of Nature herself have been made to serve his ends.

Meanwhile the unfortunate dupe has been laying the flattering unction to his soul, that given the understanding of certain primitive forms of manipulation, he has nothing else to fear. Much he knows about it!

There is no fool like the fool who imagines himself wise, and there is no dupe like the 'fly flat,'--the man who 'thinks he knows a thing or two.'

Well, it is not the fault of this book if he is not henceforth a wiser and a richer man.

FOOTNOTES:

[5] See fig. 7.

[6] The terms 'good man' and 'cunning cheat' must here be considered as synonymous.

[7] The curve of the upper cards, as shown in the figure, is much exaggerated. It is, really, very slight.

[8] See Chapter VII.--'Collusion and Conspiracy,' p. 173 _et seq._