The police will be on us, and that will be the end of your beer, for they will put you in prison!" "Yes," jeered the black-bearded man, who seemed to be set on making a row, "all fools, Russian fools, Polak fools, Galician fools, Slovak fools, all fools together." Angry voices replied from all sides, and the noise rose higher.
"Keep quiet!" cried Rosenblatt, rising to his feet, "the police will surely be here!" "That is true," cried the black-bearded man, "keep them quiet or the police will herd them in like sheep, like little sheep, baa, baa, baa, baa!" "The police!" shouted a voice in reply, "who cares for the police ?" A yell of derisive assent rose in response.
"Be quiet!" besought Rosenblatt again.

He was at his wits' end.
The police might at any time appear and that would end what was for him a very profitable game, and besides might involve him in serious trouble.

"Here you, Joseph!" he cried, addressing a man near him, "another keg of beer!" Between them they hoisted up a keg of beer on an empty cask, knocked in the head, and set them drinking with renewed eagerness.
"Swine!" he said, seating himself again at the table.

"Come, let us play." But the very devil of strife seemed to be in the black-bearded man.
He gibed at the good-natured Dalmatian, setting the Polak at him, suggested crooked dealing, playing recklessly and losing his own and his partner's money.

At length the inevitable clash came.