To augment their game, they cast about for other players. The tall man cried out: "Hoy there, Fursk! What about a round at Skax? No?"

The man with the red beard called: "There's good Sabtile, who never refuses a game! Sabtile, this way with your full purse and bad luck! Excellent."

"Who else? What about you there, with the long nose and fancy hat?"

Cugel diffidently approached the table. "What game do you play? I warn you, at cards I am a hopeless duffer."

"The game is Skax, and we don't care how you play, so long as you cover your bets."

Cugel smiled politely. "If only to be sociable, I will venture a hand or two, but you must teach me the fine points of the game."

The red-bearded man guffawed. "No fear! You will learn them as fast as the hands are dealt! I am Wagmund; this is Sabtile and this saturnine cutthroat is Koyman, embalmer to the town Saskervoy and a most reputable citizen. Now then! The rules for Skax are thus and so." Wagmund went on to explain the mode of play, emphasizing his points by pounding the table with a blunt forefinger. "So then, Cugel, is this all clear? Do you think you will be able to cope with the game? Remember, all bets must be made in solid terces. One may not hold his cards beneath the table or move them back and forth in a suspicious manner."

"I am both inexperienced and cautious," said Cugel. "Still, I think I understand the game and I will risk two, no three, terces, and I hereby bet one discrete, solid and whole terce on the first sally."

"That's the spirit, Cugel!" said Wagmund approvingly.

"Koyman, distribute the cards, if you will!"

"First," Sabtile pointed out, "you must place out your own bet!"

"True," admitted Wagmund. "See that you do the same."

"No fear of that; I am known for my quick and clever style of play."

"Fewer boasts and more money!" called Koyman. "I await your terces!"

"What of your own bet, my good stealer of ornamental gold sphincter-clasps³ from the corpses entrusted into your care?"

"An oversight: simply that and no more."

The play proceeded. Cugel lost eleven terces, and drank two mugs of the local beer: a pungent liquid brewed from acorns, bittermoss and black sausage. Presently Cugel was able to introduce his own cards into the game, whereupon his luck changed and he quickly won thirty-eight terces, with Wagmund, Koyman and Sabtile crying out and smiting their foreheads in disbelief at the unfavorable consequences of their play.

Into the common room ambled Bunderwal. He called for beer and for a space stood watching the game, teetering up and down on his toes and smoking dried herbs in a long-stemmed clay pipe. He seemed a skillful analyst of the game, and from time to time called out his approval of good play, while chaffing the losers for their blunders. "Ah then, Koyman, why did you not play down your Double-red and sweep the field before Cugel beat you with his Green Varlets?"