Confidence and extortion

 

CONFIDENCE AND EXTORTION.

A social Leper. — The Confidence Socialite. — A Confidence man “Confidenced."—Purchasing Witnesses. — The Medical Charlatan and his Merchant Dupe. — A Pretty Lawbreaker. — The Blackmailer's End.

 

OF all the criminals of which I have tried to write, the most insidious and pernicious are the confidence man or woman and the blackmailer. The confidence operator of which I shall speak first, is one of those insinuating personages who approach unsuspicious people in their daily walks, and sometimes at their places of business, and who by artfully identifying themselves with their personal affairs and business arrangements endeavor to so win their confidence that they may impose upon their credulity to their own dishonest profit.

The confidence game is practiced in large cities, and upon verdant looking strangers, whose manners and attire evince the easy-going and susceptible victim, though occasionally he will be found traveling through the country and imposing upon honest and industrious farmers and country storekeepers. One of the latest dodges of the confidence man has been recently brought to light, in which it was found that several wealthy farmers had been defrauded by the wiles of this fraudulent practitioner. The operator, in this instance, was a fine looking and clerical old gentleman, who traveled through several counties in Illinois, and who pretended to be engaged in buying sheep from the breeders in that section of the country. In addition to this occupation, the venerable old swindler announced himself as a warm advocate of certain needful reforms of a public nature, in which all (good citizens ought to be interested. He carried with him several petitions addressed to the legislature of the state, requesting them, among other things, to reduce taxation, and the salaries of public officers, and one to tax church property the same as other real estate. As may be imagined, he obtained numerous signatures to such important documents, and, in many instances, he succeeded in deftly transforming the simple petition, which the public-spirited farmer had duly signed, into a promissory note for a moderate sum of money on which the signature of the farmer could not be disputed, from any doubt of its genuineness. These notes would then be transferred to innocent purchasers, whose knowledge of the makers of the notes was such that they willingly received their promises to pay and loaned their money without a moment's hesitation. By this little scheme, the daring swindler realized several thousand dollars before his operations were detected, and by that time the smooth-tongued confidence man had disappeared effectually from the neighborhood and all search for him proved fruitless.

 

A SOCIAL LEPER.

Regrettably, criminal activity is not exclusively committed by men. It is true that a woman does not often make a successful burglar or bank-robber. She is scarcely, if ever, discovered in attempts at forgery or garroting, but there are many other phases of criminality in which she figures prominently, and with as much effrontery as a man. I am reluctant to confess it, but her fair fingers have more than once been bathed in blood, and even though she was not an active participant in murder, how many times has she appeared if not as a conspiring abettor, at least as the primary and impelling cause. A visit to our prisons will convince the most doubtful, of the truth of this statement, and there will be found numbers of the so-called “fair sex “who have lived long lives of sin and shame.

Her favorite occupation, when criminally inclined, seems to be that of the sneak thief, the pick-pocket, the confidence woman, and the blackmailer—the last being one of the most pernicious of criminal practices, and it will be found that, like the criminal man, the criminal woman preys upon humanity with all the rapacity of the vulture.

One of these latter classes lately came under my observation, and her experiences I will relate here. For genuine romantic deviltry, and unscrupulousness, her equality is exceedingly rare, and yet she pursued her way so quietly that few, except those at once concerned about her movements, were aware even of her existence. Helen Graham was the name she assumed, and she was truly a beautiful woman. Her eyes, which were large and of the color of the hazel, beamed with a bright softness that won the hearts of those around her. Her fair face was crowned with a wealth of hair, and her cheeks flushed with the ruddy hue of health and beauty. Her voice was low and musically sweet and plaintive, while her language and address were full of that refinement which only education can give. Her slight but graceful figure was draped with a quiet taste that was at once becoming and attractive, and in fact, to all outward appearances Helen Graham was a lovely woman, who might have gathered around her hosts of friends and admirers, and shone in the most brilliant circles of refined society.

And yet despite all these advantages and attractions, this beautiful woman, at the time I write of her, was charged as a criminal, and was compelled to answer for a crime which she had committed. Her eyes were filled' with tears, and in a sobbing voice she entered her plea of “not guilty.” As she sank back into her seat, and buried her face in her handkerchief, she was the object of universal sympathy. She was accused of assaulting a prominent and respectable citizen of New York, in a manner which might have resulted in serious consequence. She had thrown into his face a package of cayenne pepper, and when arrested for this offense, had openly accused the assaulted man of insulting her by making indecent proposals to her.

As may be imagined, a charge of this character, urged against a gentleman whose high honor and respectability had been above reproach, had the effect of injuring him to a great degree, not only in his business, but among his social acquaintances. Friends were estranged from him, and he was regarded with disfavor by many who had until now courted his friendship and admired his sterling qualities. His only defensive course, therefore, was to cause the arrest of his fair assailant, the maintenance of his own character required it, and the preservation of his good name made it a necessity.

Howard Ingalls was the name of the gentleman who thus appeared as the accuser of the beautiful prisoner, who had excited the admiration and the sympathy of those who had gathered to hear the particulars of her trial. As this gentleman arose to give his testimony, it was noticed that his face wore a careworn look, which bespoke the great mental suffering which the vile charges of this woman had occasioned him.

In a frank, honest manner, Mr. Ingalls related his story. The young lady had called upon him at his office and had asked him for a situation, at the same time relating a pitiful story of her necessities. Something in her manner, however, led him to doubt the truthfulness of her relations, and he offered her no encouragement. A brief time after this visit, two strange men called upon him, and impudently accusing him of assaulting the lady, demanded a written apology and the sum of five hundred dollars. These proposals were indignantly refused, and the intruders were ordered away. A few days after this event, a boy entered Mr. Ingalls’ office and informed him that a lady desired to speak with him upon the sidewalk. Following the boy to the street, the gentleman found himself confronted by Helen Graham, accompanied by two men who were entire strangers to him. One of these men handed her a  package of red pepper, which without a word, she deliberately threw in his face, occasioning him severe pain and temporarily blinding him. He had at once caused her arrest, when she openly accused him of attempts upon her virtue, which she had indignantly resisted.

While Mr. Ingalls was relating his story, the fair prisoner was visibly affected, her face flushed and the tears welled up in her eyes, ^which a moment ago, were flashing with indignation. All of this was lost upon the spectators who imagined that these emotions were the outgrowth of outraged honor and womanly feeling.

After the testimony of Mr. Ingalls had been duly given, the judge requested the prisoner to take the stand, addressing her, to the surprise of all, by the name of Mary Freeland. As she heard this name, the fair girl started nervously and placing her trembling hands upon the railing in front of her, slowly rose to her feet. She gazed appealingly around, as if beseeching someone to assist her in reaching the witness box, and her counsel, with an air of sincere concern, offered her his arm, on which she leaned heavily, and slowly approached the stand.

With great precision, and in a sweet, muffled voice, she narrated her account of the assault, and the circumstances which, she alleged, had led to the commission of the act. No one to have looked upon that fair face, and those truthful speaking eyes, would have doubted for a moment the correctness of her story, or would have refused their sympathy for the unfortunate lady who appeared so tearful and so distressed.

Utterly ignoring the evidence of Mr. Ingalls, to which she had just listened, she told her version of the story. She testified, that she had seen an advertisement in a morning paper, signed “artist,” and needing employment, she had answered it, receiving in reply a note signed “H. Ingalls,” requesting an interview at his place of business, the locality of which was given.

Agreeably to this request, she had called at the designated place, and while there she was grossly insulted by the plaintiff, who had made improper proposals to her, and had tried to compel her to give in to his vile purposes. Resisting him with all her strength, she struck him in the face, and escaped into the street, burning with anger and looking to revenge this insult, she had thrown the pepper into the eyes of the man who had tried to outrage her honor. During this recital Mr. Ingalls betrayed marked symptoms of nervousness and mental excitement, which to those around him appeared to be evidence of his guilt, and frowning looks from all quarters were directed towards him. Circumstances were decidedly against him, and the sweet-faced girl, so pure and so friendless, had won the sympathy, and imposed upon the credulity of those about her.

It seemed to them but natural that, resenting the outrage which had been tried upon her, she would have been justified in punishing her insulter in any manner that suggested itself to her mind. Matters looked very dark for Mr. Ingalls, and as he attempted to approach nearer to the witness; to hear more distinctly her low and faltering tones, he was rudely repulsed by a brawny police officer who had been completely won over to the cause of the lovely defendant. Indeed, at the close of her direct testimony, it seemed that instead of convicting the girl of committing a crime, Mr. Ingalls might be compelled to exchange places with her and might have to make financial reparation for the indignities he had put upon her.

But the defendant had bided his time—he had not been idle during the period which had elapsed between the arrest of the girl and the day of her trial. Trusty detectives had been engaged in searching for her antecedents, and their efforts had not been fruitless. Sustained by the consciousness of his own innocence, and determined to defend his own reputation, Mr. Ingalls had urged the officers to complete their task, and the results were now about to be made manifest. As the last words fell from the lips of the weeping defendant, Mr. Ingalls boldly pushed past the interposing police officer, and advancing to the judge's seat, drew from his pocket a roll of manuscript, and handing it to one of the magistrates, politely requested his perusal of the contents.

The magistrate received the document and glanced carelessly at it, but as he read, he grew more interested, and with a hurried whisper to his judicial brother, he finished his reading and passed it to him. These movements were not entirely lost upon the fair defendant, and a strange, frightened expression came into her eyes as she fixed them intently upon the judge. Having concluded his reading, that official raised his eyes from the paper, and with a sternness of manner quite different from his earlier considerate treatment of her, he began as rigid an examination as has ever been witnessed in special sessions. Under the trying ordeal the guilty woman cowered in her shame—the mask was torn from the fair face, and she stood revealed as a beautiful fiend, whose seductive wiles had been the ruin of many who had been led by the witching spell of her charms into the abyss of moral destruction.

The document was an extraordinary one indeed, and it was no wonder that Mary Freeland, with her numerous aliases, quailed and trembled beneath the searching questions of the magistrate. Her true history was now laid bare. Helen Graham, it was shown, was of English parentage, and was now, despite her youthful appearance, past thirty years of age. Being the daughter of poor parents, she was compelled to labor for a livelihood, but disliking the drudgery of her life, and preferring her own pleasures, she ran away from home at an early age, and making her way to London, engaged herself as a bar-maid in one of the largest tippling houses of that city.

Being possessed of great beauty, and with a captivating manner, she received a great deal of attention from the gentlemen who frequented the place, and among the number was a well-to-do wine merchant, who conceived such a regard for the girl, that he induced her to leave her place of employment, and

accept his bounty. Eagerly accepting this glittering offer, the bewitching little bartender was soon set up in palatial apartments and speedily began to ape the manners and tastes of a woman of fashion. From this intimacy a child was born, which is still living under the care of his reputed father. Becoming tired at last of the attentions of her middle-aged lover, she formed the acquaintance of a young and handsome fellow who was engaged as a messenger for a prominent London bank.

 

Their intimacy was carried on without detection for some time, but at length, fearing the jealousy of the wine merchant, the fair Helen robbed him of a check for two thousand pounds which Henry Rothby, the bank messenger, succeeded in having honored, and the guilty couple fled to Great Yarmouth, where they lived as man and wife for two years, during which time another child was born which, however, lived but a few months.

Henry Rothby and his mistress sailed away from the shores of old England and arrived, in February 1879, at Montreal in Canada. In that city, they engaged board with the family of a respectable gentleman who was living with his wife and five children, in comfort and contentment. Very soon, however, the spell of the siren was cast over this happy home, and one morning the weeping wife awakened to the fact that her husband had eloped with the beautiful and demure Mrs. Rothby, whom she had received into her household with all the friendliness and affection of a sister.

The guilty pair made their way to Cleveland, Ohio, where they lived together a few months, when Helen, becoming tired of her new lover, left him one evening and went to live again with Henry Rothby, who had been communicating with her, and who was now living at Patchogue on Long Island. Here they stayed until September, when they left the company. Rothby finally left his mistress in New York City and returned to England. Helen, however, preferred to remain in the United States, and after the departure of her lover she engaged herself in the service of a prominent banker of New York. She did not remain in this position but a few days, as trying her seductive wiles upon her employer, who was a man of honor, her immodest advances were met with a prompt discharge and a speedy ejection from the home she had tried to disgrace.

Thus thrown upon her own resources, she formed the acquaintance of several men of doubtful character, and a few days after her discharge from the banker's family, two rough-looking individuals called upon that gentleman, and in a threatening manner demanded a large sum of money from him, accusing him of having acted in an improper manner with his recently discharged domestic, and threatening exposure in case of refusal. Their proposition was met by the angry banker in such a vigorous manner that the two visitors were forcibly ejected from the premises and landed very unceremoniously upon the sidewalk.

Nothing further was heard of this matter, and the fair but frail Helen disappeared entirely for a time. In the early part of 1880, however, a pale but beautiful young girl, applied for a situation at the residence of a wealthy broker at Mont Clair, N. J. She related a pitiful story of needs and suffering. How she had left her home in England to escape the commands of her parents, who insisted upon her marriage with a man who was distasteful to her. How the vessel in which she took passage had been wrecked, and she had lost everything and was now in abject want. Her story, told so simply and with such an ingenuous air of truthfulness, excited the sympathy of the lady to whom she applied, who at once gave her employment and a home.

Here she remained but for a brief time when she disappeared very mysteriously under circumstances that tended to impeach her integrity. carrying on a system of extortion that was quite profitable, and effectually evaded detection.

From this time, she appeared to have led a reckless and abandoned life, having as many husbands as there were months in the year, and At several places where she had lived with the various men who were introduced as her husband, she had been requested to leave on account of her vile and unladylike behavior. She was a sort of moral free-booter, no grade of society being too high and no degradation too low, for the operation of her hellish designs. Affecting modesty and virtues that were unimpeachable, she would be admitted into select social circles, and soon she would commit some act of glaring immorality which would bring upon her the loathing and contempt of her associates. Discovered in this, she would disappear temporarily, until again brought to the surface by some new revelation of wickedness and debauchery with which she was intimately connected.

Her entire history was shown to be one of crime and immoral practices, and unable to refute the terrible accusations, the stricken woman acknowledged her guilt and sued for mercy. The trial was soon completed, and this designing and unprincipled woman was sentenced to a term of imprisonment, during which it was hoped some lessons of improvement would be inculcated.

With a sobbing cry, the young woman received the edict of the court, and then turning to a young man who had hitherto escaped attention, she raised her hands appealingly to him, but with a look of loathing he turned from her, and she was conducted away.

The vindication of Howard Ingalls was complete, and friends who had doubted his story before, and who had avoided him, now pressed forward to congratulate him upon the happy termination of his aggravating trial.

There is a sequel to this story, however, which is worthy of relation. After the police officer had conducted the prisoner to her cell, the young man to whom she had appealed requested to speak to the judge, who was busily engaged in gathering up his papers. The magistrate inclined his head to listen, and the young man related his story. He was the son of wealthy parents who lived in a western city, where he was also engaged in business. Sometime before this occurrence, while on a business visit to New York he had met the fair Helen Graham, who came to him with a sorrowful story of want and distress. He had been first attracted by the pensive beauty of the girl and had provided for her wants. A growing intimacy had ripened into love, and entirely unconscious of the charges against her, he had offered her his hand in marriage, and they had been united only the day before the arrest.

The revelations of the trial had been dreadful awakening to him and now realizing the position in which he was placed, he sought the aid of the justice to release him from the bonds which bound him to the guilty woman who had just been condemned to suffer for her sins.

In time the necessary papers were obtained, the marriage was declared invalid, and Henry Gadsby returned to his western home a wiser man and, it is to be hoped, a happier one.

THE CONFIDENCE MAN ABOUT TOWN

THE ways of the confidence man and woman, and the ingenious tricks they resort to, are as numerous as the planets, and frequently, as brilliant, and in the space I have allotted to this particular phase of criminal practice, I can only expect to give a few of the many incidents that have come under my notice. To try a full description would require a volume as extensive as the present one, and the reading, though entertaining, might prove tiresome from its very length. I will, however, give a few illustrations, to show the workings of this class of ingenious criminals, and to afford the reader a comprehensive idea of their operations.

Of course, the most common, and, strange to say, one of the most successful schemes, is that of watching either at railroad depots or hotels, for the genial and unsuspecting farmer or country merchant, whose well filled purse and general air of rusticity warrant a belief in his innocence and gullibility. The first move, therefore, is for one of the confidence men to approach the stranger, and with a frank and hearty salutation, to claim an acquaintance.

Why, Mr. Harris, how do you do—and when did you leave Pump town?” ejaculates the confidence man, as he grasps the hand of the astonished stranger.

“You must be mistaken, sir,” he replied, “my name is not Harris, and I don't live in Pump town."

“Well, I declare, sir. I beg your pardon, but you are the exact image of my friend, Squire Harris, and I thought I could not be mistaken. I am sorry to have spoken to you as I did, and I beg you to excuse me."

A further conversation ensues, in which the stranger and his victim adjourn to the bar, and over their drinks the victim informs his new found friend that his name is Mr. John Bell, and that he lives in Wellsville, and has come up to town for the first time in five years. After many protestations of goodwill and amiability the couple separate, and the stranger sees no more of the smooth-spoken gentleman who addressed him as Mr. Harris. During the day, however, Mr. Bell strolls out through the crowded thoroughfares of the city, and while he is carelessly looking around him, he is approached by another man, whose manners are quite agreeable, and whose genial face is beaming with smiles.

How are you, Mr. Bell? I am glad to see you. What brings you to town?"

Of course, Mr. Bell does not first recognize his new friend, and upon asking for the desired information, the stranger tells him that his name is Marshall, and that he keeps a store at Watertown, a few miles distant from Wellsville, and has met Mr. Bell several times in his native town. A few deft inquiries about people and localities which completely impose on Mr. Bell, and in a few minutes afterwards, the two men are laughing and talking like old friends.

This is the entering wedge, and after that any scheme that may be devised is put into operation. Sometimes Mr. Marshall has bought a lot of goods, and the firm from whom he has made purchases requires more cash than he has with him, and Mr. Bell is appealed to help his friends out until they return home. Sometimes Mr. Marshall has shipped a lot of goods to Chicago but does not have enough cash to pay for the freight, is very indignant, and exceedingly annoyed because the railroad company declined to accept his check to pay. Mr. Bell is then appealed to cash a check for his neighbor, who offers his individual paper as a guarantee of his credibility. In other cases, the unsuspecting Mr. Bell may be lured into a gambling saloon, and under the excitement of the moment, may be tempted to venture his money on the uncertain chances of the game, which, it is needless to say, invariably results in loss and ruin to the rustic victim, and in some extreme instances Mr. Bell may be led to some secluded spot, drugged and robbed, and when his consciousness returns, he is unable to tell where and how he came to his present position.

These are a few of the many means put into practice by the ordinary confidence man, and I regret to say they are successful.

THE BITERS BITTEN.

“BANCO,” as it is now called “bunko,” is another form of the confidence swindle, and first made its appearance at New Orleans in 1869. This game consists in “roping in” or inducing an unsuspicious victim, with plenty of money, and then fleecing him of all his ready cash and as much more as can be obtained from him. A little reminiscence that occurred a few years ago may not be out of place here as showing that sometimes

“The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry.”

 A party of sharp and notorious gamblers and bunko men were seated in a handsomely furnished saloon where games of chance were the order of the day, when one of their number rushed into the room exclaiming:

Boys, I have just had an introduction to the richest planter in the Red River country. His name is Col. Oliver, and I understand he has sold his cotton and deposited the proceeds, about $15,000, with a banker here. Now I am getting ready for a big game, and I will land him here in an hour or two. He does not carry any ready money, but his paper is as good as gold."

The game that was intended to be played upon the stranger was a lottery scheme, which was to be termed the Royal Havana Lottery, with drawings now going on. At ten o'clock that evening, the steerer “made his appearance, accompanied by a large swarthy planter, who was elegantly dressed, and who wore in his shirt bosom a diamond stud of large proportions.

After going through the usual preliminary inquiries, the “steerer “produced his ticket for the lottery which had drawn $80, and the gold was duly counted out to him, when he at once purchased two more tickets for the present drawing.

Col. Oliver received one of these tickets from the steerer, and after being instructed in the manner of playing, he entered fully into the spirit of the game, which unfortunately went steadily against him until he had lost $8,000. The Colonel took his losses good naturedly, however, saying that he had taken the chances and might have won. He, however, requested the gamblers to hold his drafts until morning, so that he could get the money for them from his broker, as he did not wish that gentleman to think he would gamble so heavily. This promise was readily given, and the gamblers treated their victim to a bounteous and luxurious supper, in which the finest brands of champagne and the most delicately flavored cigars furnished a fitting conclusion. After this the party separated and Col. Oliver returned to his hotel. Meeting some friends there he entered the wine room, and while there, his former friends, the gamblers, who, flushed with success, were having a glorious time, also entered the room.

Saluting his newfound friend as Col. Oliver, the leader of the gamblers invited the party to join him in a bottle of wine. While they were drinking, one of the gentlemen approached the gambler, and in a loud voice exclaimed:

Major, I think you have made a slight mistake about Col. Oliver.

“How can that be?” inquired the gambler.

“Why, replied the other, instead of being Col. Oliver, he is no other person than Detective William Pinkerton from Chicago.”

This was enough, and without another word the discomfited gamblers handed the drafts, which were utterly worthless, back to William, and slowly and quietly drifted out of the hotel. Their little confidence game did not work at that time, and ever afterwards they were more careful about how they entertained rich planters from the Red River country.

THE VERDANT SCOTCHMAN.

THERE was another case in which the intended victim was a robust and wealthy Scotchman who was traveling in America for pleasure, and who temporarily stopped at one of the prominent Chicago hotels. This gentleman's name was James Templeton, and he came from Glasgow. While sauntering about the office of the hotel one evening, Mr. Templeton was approached by a dapper little fellow, in a Scotch tweed suit, with a dainty umbrella under his arm and a single glass in his eye. This young man approached the elderly gentleman, and politely introduced himself as Master Robert Campbell of Glasgow, a son of Campbell, one of the famous shipbuilders of that city. The old gentleman was exceedingly glad to meet with a fellow countryman, and they were soon chatting pleasantly together. A walk was soon proposed and shortly afterwards our two Scotch friends found themselves in a large saloon, where no less an individual than “Canada Bill,” an old time swindler, was engaged in throwing the monte “cards for an audience, all of whom were perfectly acquainted With his little game, and were in fact cappers “for him. "Canada Bill “was losing money very rapidly when the strangers entered, and Mr. Templeton, after watching the game for a while turned to the pretended Mr. Campbell, and expressed his opinion that the poor, old blind man was being deliberately robbed. Young Campbell, however, paid no attention to this, and a few minutes afterwards he commenced to play himself. He soon lost a small sum of money and induced his elderly companion to wager a small amount which was soon pocketed by Canada Bill. Campbell then wanted to play for more money, and Bill said he would bet $1,000, and nothing less that no one could pick up the “Jack.” Amid the talking which ensued, Mr. Templeton unceremoniously seized young Mr. Campbell by the collar of his coat, and the seat of his trousers, and deliberately carried him out into the street. After carefully depositing the youth upon the sidewalk, he said, “Campbell, my boy, I say, I have saved you from being robbed and murdered. You were in a den of thieves. What would your poor old father say if he saw you gambling with sharpers. But, Campbell,” and now his voice dropped, the poor, old, blind man was not such a damn fool as he looked to be."

The honesty and the indignation of the old Scotchman were too much, and the pretended Master Campbell, who was no other than a regular “steerer” for “Canada Bill, ”and who had dressed himself as a Scotchman for the sole purpose of fleecing his warm hearted friend Mr. Templeton, was compelled to swallow his disappointment and look for other game.

A CONFIDENCE MAN, CONFIDENCED.

THE following incident, which is perfectly true in all its details, will show how even the most astute confidence men are sometimes over-reached and, in the end, find themselves the victims of their own smartness.

During the month of August 1883, an ordinary looking man, respectably arrayed, and wearing a broad brimmed hat and gold bowed spectacles arrived in New York City, and registered himself at a fashionable hotel in Broadway, as B. Ashley, of Abilene, Kansas. The stranger had just arrived in town by the Western express from Chicago, on the Erie Road. His garments had been procured from a ready-made clothing store in Abilene, which gave him a rustic appearance, while his face and hands were brownly tanned from exposure. He walked with that peculiar parenthetical gait which indicates a long time spent in the saddle, and his bearing in other respects indicated the wild western border man. Mr. Ashley soon developed other tendencies of the prairie type, he insisted upon going out for exercise every morning shortly after daybreak on horseback, and upon these occasions he employed his own rawhide bridle, and his well-worn Mexican saddle, which formed part of his luggage. His accent was a peculiar blending of English and western types of speech; his eyes were weak, and he frequently consulted an eminent oculist in New York, preparatory, as he stated, to placing himself under the care of a prominent London specialist, after he had concluded his affairs in New York, and arrived upon the other side of the Atlantic.

Mr. Ashley had truly little occupation beyond horseback riding at unearthly hours in the morning, visiting his medical adviser in the afternoon and lounging about the immense and richly ornamental rotunda of the hotel in the evening. He was bountifully supplied with cash, and he expended it with considerable liberality. He smoked a great deal, but drank little, because his physician had absolutely forbidden him to do so, on account of its do upon his patient's eves.

Many people about the hotel drank at Mr. Ashleys expense, but he himself seldom indulged in more harmful beverages than lemonade or some well-known medicinal spring water.

One day Mr. Ashley strolled through the lobby of the hotel in the company of a young man, whose face is well known to the regular promenaders of Broadway. This young man is always faultlessly dressed and smooth shaven. He has prominent features, and peculiarly thin and compressed lips; he lives handsomely and always has plenty of money. With this new-found companion Mr. Ashley, the weak-eyed child of the guileless west, occupied a seat in the barroom for some time. On this occasion Mr. Ashley departed from his usual customs and assisted in the absorption of a liberal quantity of champagne. After a time thus spent, the Broadway friend arose and took his departure, and Mr. Ashley sauntered again through the office of the hotel. As he did so, one of the clerks motioned for him to approach the desk.

“Mr. Ashley, how long has it been since you were in New York before?” inquired the clerk.

“Nearly eight years,” answered that gentleman. “Never was here afore and never since until now."

“Do you know the person who has just left you?"

“Yes, met him two nights ago at the Madison Square. I couldn't buy a seat, and he offered me one of his. Said his friend hadn't come, and he would be glad to accommodate a stranger. So, we sat together. Seems to be a nice sort of a chap, doesn’t he?"

“I have no doubt of that,” responded the clerk, with a slight air of superior knowledge, not unblended with sarcasm. “That young man—in fact, that nice chap, is 'Hungry Joe,' one of the most celebrated confidence operators in America."

“You don't say,” drawled the western man slowly, and with some little sign of astonishment. “Well, I'm darned.”

He went thoughtfully away. That night the young man 'with the thin lips and the handsome clothes called for Mr. Ashley after dinner, and as they came through the office, the occidental innocent pulled out a large pocket-book filled to repletion with money, and taking about $500 from its recesses he deposited the wallet, with the balance of its contents, in the hotel safe. His companion watched this proceeding with a pensive face, but a gleaming eye, and then the two went out together. Mr. Ashley returned just in time to take his morning ride on horseback, and then retired to bed, where he remained until four o'clock in the afternoon. That evening he drew $200 from his wallet and left the hotel.

“You are fully warned,” observed the clerk, as he handed over the amount, “and it is your own fault if you lose any money to ' Hungry Joe.

“Correct,” responded Mr. Ashley, stuffing the bills into his pocket.

His next appearance in the hotel was shortly after midnight, and this time he put $300 away in his wallet, with the declaration that “New York sharps might be stiff on bunko, but they were a little behind the time on draw poker. In my country,” he added, “two deuces and a bowie knife will open a Jack pot every time.'

Several days after this, Mr. Ashley passed in quiet and seclusion, and a full week rolled past before he drifted out again with his companion of the compressed lips. The next day he drew around $1,000 from the safe and seemed very annoyed when the clerk smiled a broad and knowing smile.

“No game ever fazed me,” said Mr. Ashley, doggedly, “and a man who can hold up his end with cowboys isn't going to be bested by any broadcloth brigade that was ever hatched."

There was a lull of eight or ten days, and then Mr. Ashley drew another $1,000, and a couple of days after that he drew $850 more. That afternoon he went for a drive with his gentlemanly companion. His face was clouded with sadness all morning, but it was noticed that he appeared brighter on his return from the drive. That evening, Hungry Joe,” and two of his well-known Broadway companions spent several hours in earnest conversation with Mr. Ashley. That gentleman's weak eyes made it necessary for him to wear his broad hat well down over his forehead, and when the three young men went away, the merest shadow of a smile played about the corners of the mouth of the western man. From the table at which they had sat, the three young fellows went directly to a telegraph office, where they sent the following dispatch:

POSTMASTER, ABILENE, KANSAS:

Do you know Benjamin Ashley, cattle raiser? Telegraph full particulars, my expense.

R. DICKSON, Brower House,

New York."

The reply to this communication was satisfactory in all respects, and within two days Mr. Ashley received in his rooms at the hotel, a visit from the three confidence operators and a lawyer, who is celebrated in the metropolis. After an hour or more had elapsed, the chief porter of the hotel was called into the room and requested to sign his name as a witness to the signature of Mr. Ashley. This was done, the porter receiving $5 for his trouble, and a sum of money was counted out and paid to Mr. Ashley by the young man with the thin lips.

That night the western cattle raiser deposited $14,000 cool cash in the safe of the hotel.

Two days afterwards he took passage on a Guion steamer for Liverpool, having explained to the hotel clerk that he had sold a half interest in his Kansas cattle ranch to his friends, and that “Hungry Joe,” as he was called, was going to retire from city life.

Mr. Ashley was accompanied to the pier by his enthusiastic New York acquaintances, who toasted him in the finest champagne, and adorned his stateroom with many delicacies, including a rich basket of flowers, in which the word “farewell” was artistically arranged, and altogether the departure of the cattle raiser, was accompanied by every mark of tender regard and esteem.

About twelve days had elapsed since the departure of Mr. Ashley, when a tall man arrived at the same hotel, in a carriage that was loaded down with trunks, steamer chairs and other appliances of ocean travel. Walking into the office he signed his name in large English characters: “Benjamin Ashley, Esq., London.” The clerk looked up hurriedly, as if to apologize for not recognizing his guest, then looked surprised, muttered a hasty word or two, and assigned the stranger to a room all in a confused and preoccupied manner.

There was another Benjamin Ashley. This man was tall and slender, well dressed and pale. But he spoke with a slightly Americanized accent, not unlike that of the other Benjamin Ashley. The clerk was sorely puzzled, and that evening he took especial care to have the stranger's full name and address inserted among the list of prominent arrivals in all the daily papers.

The clerk went on duty early next day, and as he fully expected, one of his first callers was the thin lipped “Hungry Joe,” who asked to have his name sent up to Mr. Ashley's room. Word was returned that Mr. Ashley would see the gentleman in the drawing room, and thither the clerk followed the confidence man. “Hungry Joe” was sitting in a large armchair, when the tall man from London entered the apartment, and not recognizing his old friend, paid no attention to the newcomer. The Englishman, however, seeing no one else except the clerk, advanced courteously and spoke.

“Did you wish to see me? I am Mr. Ashley.'

“Eh!” said “Hungry Joe” with a start, “you're not Mr. Benjamin Ashley?"

“Precisely. "

Not of Kansas?"

“Yes sir, of Abilene, Kansas. How can I serve you?"

The thin lips of the expert confidence man were white by this time, and they were more firmly compressed than ever. He regarded the tall Englishman in a dazed manner for a few minutes, and then he asked,

Do you own a large cattle ranch twenty-five miles south of Abilene?"

 I believe I do. Why do you ask?"

Been to Europe to have your eyes doctored?"

“Yes, sir,” answered Mr. Ashley, with. some surprise, ' I have been abroad for four months. But my young friend, these questions are odd. Please explain yourself."

“Odd,” echoed the Broadway man. “Well, I should think they were. If you are Benjamin Ashley, and you do own that ranch, the cleverest man in the country has given me a bad deal, that's all. Why, it ain't two weeks ago that me and two friends bought a half-interest in that ranch, and by God, the man who sold us, stopped in this same hotel!"

Mr. Ashley seemed astonished, and after a full explanation had been made, the following particulars were learned. The supposed Benjamin Ashley had lost at cards to “Hungry Joe “and his companions. This man had represented himself as the owner of the Ashley ranch and was on his way to Europe to “be treated for his eyes. Mr. Ashley had desired to make certain expenditures while in Europe, but his losses at cards would prevent him doing so, unless he could dispose of an interest in his ranch. The men had then telegraphed to the Postmaster who had replied, giving details of the property, which was valued at about $50,000, and further stated that All-. Ashley had gone abroad for medical treatment. Thus far all was satisfactory, the pretended Mr. Ashley produced deeds to establish his ownership, and thinking they had a chance to get $25,000 worth of material for $14,000; the three sharpers had clubbed together and raised the necessary amount.

“Really,” observed Mr. Ashley, when all the explanations had been fully made, “I am deeply sorry for you, but you have been made a victim of. For my part, I shall have no difficulty in proving my identity, and as for your friend, the bogus. Mr. Ashley, he is one of my cowboys named Harry Barnes, whose description tallies precisely with what you have told me of the man.

“Well, sir,” burst in the defrauded confidence operator, “that cuss has gone off to Europe with my money, hang him! And what's worse, he went off full of my champagne and smelled of my basket of flowers. He's a d—d swindler, that's what he is."

Swearing and complaints were of no avail, however, and “Hungry Joe,” with all his skill and success was compelled to acknowledge that he had been completely duped by a western cowboy.

PURCHASING WITNESSES.

IT is scarcely possible to place a limit upon the acting of unscrupulous men and women when in desperate straits to obtain money. I know of a case in which a woman deliberately hired herself to furnish a rich married woman, who was desirous of obtaining a divorce from her husband, with such evidence as would be sufficient to warrant any court in Christendom in granting the application, notwithstanding the fact that the husband so far as known, had led an unblemished life. The gentleman was a wealthy real estate owner, and being older than his wife, the lady had grown tired of his company, and desired to wed a younger man, who had captivated her affections. She had attempted previously to obtain a divorce and alimony on the grounds of adultery, but failing to produce testimony to support this allegation the case was summarily dismissed by the judge to whom the case was tried. Then it was that the wife endeavored to purchase the testimony, without which it would be impossible for her to carry out her designs. A so-called private detective was called in, and through his influence, the woman was secured who agreed to furnish the required evidence. Dressing herself in plain black clothing, and with mourning jewelry, this woman called upon the husband, at his place of business, representing herself to be a wealthy widow who was desirous of disposing of some property. This led to a second visit and being a woman of prepossessing appearance, she soon won the regard of the unsuspecting husband, who gave her the best advice as to the transaction she had sought his opinion upon. At length a plan was duly arranged, and at the proper moment the wife, accompanied by witnesses, burst into her husband's private office, to find the hired accomplice, with her arms around the neck of the astonished and unsuspicious man, who vainly tried to extricate himself from this damaging combination of circumstances. In this case the husband was entirely guiltless of wrong-doing, but the evidence was too strong—the divorce was granted with liberal alimony, and four months afterwards, the designing and degraded wife, who had paid $1,000 for this manufactured testimony, was married to this young man who had ingratiated himself into her favor. As a truthful evidence of the utter depravity of human nature, this incident is sufficiently suggestive, and it was with considerable elation that I afterwards learned that the second husband of this woman ran away from her in a short time, taking with him several thousand dollars which she had fraudulently obtained from the man whom she had so basely deceived in the first instance.

THE MEDICAL CHARLATAN AND HIS MERCHANT DUPE.

One of the most unusual and lengthy cases of extortion came to my attention a few years ago. The parties were an unscrupulous medical charlatan, a designing woman, and a reputable merchant, who in a moment, of weakness succumbed to the wiles and seductive charms of the immoral temptress.

Mr. Samuel Wilkins was a merchant of high standing in the commercial world and mingled in the first circles of society in a western city. A middle-aged man of family, whose wife was interested in many acts of charity and benevolence, and whose children were reared amid the comforts and restraints of a well-ordered home. Mr. Wilkins was a fine-looking gentleman, a good liver, a hearty, whole-souled companion, and thus far no breath of scandal had ever touched himself or his home.

Mr. Wilkins had frequent occasions visiting New York, to purchase goods for his large establishment, and to deal with numerous other matters of business connected with the proper management of his large commercial interests. While in that city he invariably made his headquarters at one of the prominent hotels, where he soon became known to the regular guests of this high-toned hostelry. On several occasions while stopping at this hotel, Mr. Wilkins had noticed a. lady of prepossessing appearance, who was alone and unattended. After repeated accidental meetings in the corridors and dining room of the hotel, an acquaintance, polite and deferential at first, sprang up between them. This intercourse soon led to quiet social chats in the parlor, during which the demure maiden informed Mr. Wilkins that her name was Mary Curtis, and that her parents, who were in comfortable circumstances, resided in a distant part of the state, where she might also enjoy the comforts of a home, but preferring the bustle and gaiety of the city, she had come to New York, and was engaged as a music teacher by several of the aristocratic families of the metropolis. A mutual affection soon ripened between the western merchant and the fair music teacher, and during Mr. Wilkins' frequent visits to New York, he escorted the young lady to the theatre, opera and to little recherche suppers, which was exceedingly enjoyable to 'them both. Mr. Wilkins also made several presents for his new-found friend, which gradually increased in value, until expensive items of wearing apparel were accepted with the same delightful grace and freedom as a bouquet of flowers or a box at the opera.

The natural and inevitable result of such an intimacy was that the seductive and charming Mary Curtis after a time accepted the protection and bounty of her wealthy admirer, and notwithstanding her perfect knowledge that he was a married man of family, she left the hotel and occupied the apartments which were selected and arranged for her by her middle-aged but infatuated admirer.

Mary was supplied with a liberal allowance of money, and every wish expressed by her was gratified by the enraptured merchant, who seemed to have completely lost his senses over the ravishing beauty, who constituted the charm of his existence, while he was engaged away from home. Day by day the demands of his pretty mistress became more exacting, and during his absences from her, which were inevitably long, the mails were burdened with her letters, in which some new caprice would require an additional outlay on the part of her married admirer.

Mr. Wilkins finally became annoyed at these frequent demands for money and resolved to break off an alliance which was both dangerous to his standing in the church and society, should it ever become known, and extremely costly in a financial sense. On the occasion, therefore, of his next visit to New York, he determined to communicate his resolution to the young woman; but when he arrived he learned from the trembling lips of the young lady that she was in that peculiar condition in which another life than her own was struggling for existence, and that she feared she was about to become a mother.

This information fell upon the surprised merchant as the death-knell of his intentions of separating from the girl, and his hopes of avoiding further expensive outlays in her behalf. With many blushes and copious floods of tears the frightened Mary recounted her fears and foreboding, and her piteous appeals to her protector were so genuine and heartrending that Mr. Wilkins, instead of making release from his present entanglements, only found himself more deeply and hopelessly involved.

Shortly after this he had the opportunity to make a sudden visit to New York on an imperative matter of business, and he arrived in the city without having given Mary any intimation of his coming. On repairing the house unannounced, he was surprised to find, calmly seated in her apartment, a tall, handsome gentleman who was making himself perfectly at home, and who exhibited marked evidence of confusion at this unexpected meeting.

Mary was the most composed of the three, and without the slightest trace of excitement, introduced the stranger to Mr. Wilkins as Dr. Philip Bristow, a medical gentleman whom she had engaged to attend her in her approaching accouchement, and who had simply made a professional call upon her.

Dr. Philip Bristow was a man above six feet in height, with broad shoulders and a commanding figure. His hair was long and black, and was worn in graceful curls, and his long, flowing mustache was of the same color; his eyes were dark and piercing". and his complexion was clear, though dark. Altogether the doctor was a very handsome man, with a fine careless air of bravado about him, which impressed one with mingled feelings of admiration and suspicion.

The doctor expressed himself as highly gratified to meet the husband of his interesting lady patient, and after a few words of amiable courtesy, he took his leave.

Although suspicious of this strange visitor, Mr. Wilkins forebode to make any remark concerning his presence, and Mary, fully assured, devoted herself to the entertainment of her unexpected friend with a grace and charm which could not fail to have its effect.

Thus, matters continued until the time arrived, and Mary was duly delivered of a bright, healthy boy. The information about this interesting event was conveyed to Mr. Wilkins by the urbane doctor by letter, as Mr. Wilkins was compelled to remain in Chicago, during the process of this important addition to his cares and anxieties in New York.

When Mr. Wilkins next visited Mary he was surprised to find her looking very rosy and healthy for a new mother, and though still confined to her bed, she showed an animation of spirits scarcely in accord with her weakened condition. The baby was brought into the room, in the arms of its nurse, and to Mr. Wilkins' experienced eyes appeared to be a remarkably robust and well-grown youngster for the limited time he had been favored with existence.

He began to grow more suspicious and alarmed, and when the handsome doctor called in the day, and presented a bill for $350 for his services, his suspicions were confirmed, and his alarm increased. He, however, held his peace, and with many professions of thankfulness, he paid the doctor's claim, and made further arrangements for the care and welfare of the mother and her baby.

On his return home, however, Mr. Wilkins sought his legal adviser, an old and valued friend and companion, and he related to him without evasion or concealing the details of the whole affair. The attorney, who was also a man of the world, at once gave the opinion that this was one of the most decided, but delicately operated cases of extortion that had come under his notice, and advised Mr. Wilkins to extricate himself as soon as possible from the toils of this designing woman and her unscrupulous physician, who in the opinion of the astute attorney, was nothing more or less than her paramour, and fellow conspirator.

Mr. Sandford, the attorney, being a warm friend of mine, applied to me for assistance, and as I was well acquainted with Mr. Wilkins, and fully coincided In the opinion that he had fallen into the hands of sharpers, I agreed to undertake the matter and to secure his release from further demands if possible.

I at once set about the performance of my task, and ere many days I was able to fully gain all the information I desired. The doctor was carefully watched, and he was found to be one of the most notorious of those scoundrelly physicians who make a specialty of treating diseases peculiar to women, and who was a noted and unscrupulous abortionist. The house of Mary Curtis was also well shadowed, and it was found that, notwithstanding the fact of her recent motherhood, she received almost daily visits from this disinterested doctor, who always remained all night when making his daily professional calls.

Satisfied of the undue intimacy existing between Dr. Philip Bristow and Mr. Wilkins' fair and lovely Mary, my next move was to ascertain full particulars about the child, and with the assistance of an intelligent female operative, who gained the confidence of the nurse of the frail Mary, I learned enough to convince me that the child which had been imposed upon Mr. Wilkins, as his offspring, had been procured from some foundling asylum, for the propose of deceiving that gentleman, and strengthening the hold of these blackmailers upon their victim, who fearing the consequences of an exposure of his relations with Mary Curtis would be willing to submit to any demands upon his purse in order to insure secrecy.

Nor was I wrong in my convictions, and at last I was armed with sufficient proofs of the fact that Dr. Bristow and Mary Curtis had lived together as man and wife before she made the acquaintance of Mr. Wilkins, and I had learned enough of this pseudo doctor to know that he had been connected with similar experiments in other cities. The fact of the baby having been taken from a foundling's home, was also proven beyond doubt, and at last, having obtained all the information I desired, Mr. Wilkins was instructed to peremptorily refuse to pay any further demands which might be made upon him from that quarter. This he did emphatically and without any unnecessary waste of words, and his refusal was met by a threat from the doctor to sue him, and to inform his wife and family of his connection with Mary Curtis.

At this situation, I came to the rescue in person, and boldly entering the doctor's office, I demanded an interview with the debased impostor. Our conversation was short, and as may be imagined directly to the point. I informed the weak-kneed braggart that I was in possession of the facts of his early history, and if he persisted in hounding Mr. Wilkins, he would find himself in prison for a graver charge than extortion, and with a sure promise of conviction and punishment. The medical fraud soon discovered that his dance was over, and after signing a paper, in which he acknowledged the whole scheme to be one of fraud and deception, and promising to leave the city with his equally guilty mistress, I took my departure.

A few days after this, the doctor disappeared mysteriously, and the apartments of Mary Curtis were vacated. The child was returned to the Foundling's home, and Mr. Wilkins was relieved from any further demands from this unprincipled pair of blackmailers. The lesson was not lost upon him, and after a frank and manly explanation to his wife, he settled himself down to a life of simple and happy virtue and content.

Of Dr. Bristow and Mary Curtis, I have heard at frequent intervals, but they have kept out of my way too carefully to incur another visit from me, which if ever repeated, would be to fully carry out the threat I made to them on the occasion of my first call upon the charlatan doctor and the extortion  abortionist.

A PRETTY LAW BREAKER.

SOPHIE Lewis was a beautiful girl when I first met her. Her hair was of raven blackness and curled gracefully around her broad low white forehead, beneath which her lustrous eyes gleamed with a soft brightness that was bewitching. Her bright-red lips and pearly teeth gave an additional charm to a face that was unmistakably beautiful.

The manner of my first introduction to her occurred under circumstances at once peculiar and not very creditable to the lady. Several years ago, many of the principal dry-goods merchants of the city of Chicago were victimized by a numerous coterie of shoplifters who for a long time effectually eluded their vigilance. Every day articles would disappear, and in the most unaccountable manner. Clerks and “floor-walkers “were watchful and vigilant, but in spite of their utmost endeavors the closing of the stores at night would reveal the fact that during the day articles had been stolen which were more or less valuable, and in a manner which entirely escaped detection. The continued success of these thieves alarmed the merchants, and at length finding no diminution in the operations of these light-fingered individuals, my agency was applied to by several of the most prominent of the mercantile community. I accordingly placed in each one of their establishment’s watchful operatives in the capacities of clerks, salespeople, and floorwalkers, who were instructed to be ever on the alert for the detection of these pestilent thieves.

In one of the largest of these establishments, that of Brown, Armstrong & Co., I placed my son William A. Pinkerton feeling fully confident that under his surveillance any attempt at shoplifting would be met by instant detection and prompt punishment.

One day shortly after his appearance in the store, he noticed a handsomely dressed young lady who awakened an instinctive suspicion in his mind. Why, he could not tell, but as she swept past him in flowing robes, the idea flashed through his mind that this lady required watching, and he quietly and unobserved kept her in view.

The object of this unaccountable suspicion was a tall, well-formed young lady of about twenty years of age. Her hair was black and waving, and her dark eyes were full of expression, and a vivacity that was captivating, while the rich color mantled her cheek giving to the otherwise pale face a sweetness that was bewitching. Her apparel was of the richest material and of the most fashionable design, sparkling diamonds were suspended from her small shell-like ears and glistened brightly upon her taper-fingers.

Certainly not one who would ordinarily be accused of shoplifting, but William could not overcome the suspicions which impressed him so forcibly as his eyes rested upon her for the first time. A beautiful ingenuous face is not always a sure index of the purity and honor of the possessor, and very often in my experience it has only been the outward appearance which covered a base and degraded heart.

This woman wore an article of apparel called a “dolman” a loose mantle with wide flowing sleeves, which was made of the finest quality of silk. As William followed her carelessly around the store, he noticed several times that as she would inquire the prices of the various articles displayed upon the counters, those wide sleeves would invariably cover a large amount of space which was filled with numerous articles of value openly exposed for sale. In her hand the lady carried a goodly sized and very handsome shopping reticule of unique design, and the watchful detective was confident that several times in her wanderings about the store he noticed a suspicious movement of this embroidered receptacle.

A closer scrutiny rendered the conviction certain, and as the lady, having concluded her visit, turned to leave the store, William stepped in front of her. Politely removing his hat, he addressed her:

I am sorry, Madam, but I am afraid you will be required to accompany me.

The beautiful face paled before the searching eyes of the determined detective, and her lips attempted an angry reply.

What do you mean, sir? she inquired, in a faltering voice.

“Only this, madam,” replied William. “I think you have stolen goods in that satchel, and a search is necessary to disprove the accusation.”

The pallor had left her face now, and a bright scarlet tinged her cheeks, her eyes flashed an angry gaze at the man before her.

How dare you speak so to me?” came in quick utterances from the scornful lips. Stand aside at once and let me pass!"

The air of command and dignity was most perfectly assumed, and the innocent look of her eyes might have deceived many; but William had been too well skilled in matters of deceptive appearances to be disturbed in the least by the bewitching display of anger on the part of the lady before him. Still maintaining his placid demeanor, he said: “Madam, you may take your choice, you will either accompany me, or I will call an officer at once and place you in custody; but this mysterious satchel of yours must be examined."

As he spoke, he reached out his hand and took from the unresisting arm of the lady the reticule which she carried. Finding her efforts unavailing, the lady recovered her composure and signified her inclination to accompany my son.

“You will find that the best plan,” said William, as he offered her his arm; “you will thus avoid the mortification of a public exposure."

Requesting one of the gentlemen who composed the firm to accompany them, the trio quietly left the store, and after a short walk arrived at my Agency, where the fair lady was conducted into a private office, and where she breathlessly awaited the result of the investigation.

As was expected, the reticule contained several articles that had undoubtedly been stolen from the store in which she was detected, and, although of comparatively trifling value, the fact of her guilt was plainly demonstrated to the wonderful merchant who stood by.

No sooner had the stolen goods been discovered than the merchant's manner underwent a remarkable change. Assuming an appearance of anger he addressed the lady in the most abusive terms, and finally, to the utter amazement of my son, he concluded by demanding of the discomfited lady the sum of three hundred dollars in order to compromise the matter, and to save her the exposure of a public trial.

This novel and unexpected turn of affairs was a complete surprise to William, and so exasperated did he become at this attempt to extortion an unfortunate woman by a man of supposed respectability and business reputation, that rising to his feet and pointing to the recovered articles, he said : “Mr. _ there are the goods that have been recovered; take them and leave this office; we have nothing to do with transactions such as you propose!” and then walking to the door he. threw it wide open, then turning to the lady _ “Madam, we have nothing further to do with this matter, and you are at liberty to depart at once."

Before the astonished merchant could recover himself sufficiently to utter a word the woman had disappeared, and William had entered an adjoining room, leaving the discomfited blackmailer to find his way out as best he could.

The beauty of this sinful woman piqued the curiosity of my son, and he determined to learn her history, and not long afterwards he was successful in acquiring all the information he desired in relation to her career and antecedents. The young woman found to be one Sophie Lewis, a daughter of one of the most noted thieves of the day. She had been reared in an atmosphere of crime from her infancy and had been a thief from the cradle. Her beauty had been a safeguard for her, and very often when detected in petty pilfering, her beautiful pleading, tear-filled eyes had saved her from the punishment which would have certainly overtaken one less favored by nature.

This was her first appearance in Chicago, and consequently her first introduction to the detective, who, although being perfectly conversant with the history of the father, did not until now know of the existence of this beautiful but dishonest daughter.

Shortly after this the beautiful Jewess, for such she was proven to be, became acquainted with a noted bank burglar and desperado named Ned Little. Her handsome face attracted the admiration of this lawless man, and after a short but loving courtship, they were married. By this union five children were born, and the mother endeavored to bring them up in an honorable manner. All attention was paid to their education, and they never knew the precarious calling of their father who practiced his profession with unremitting ardor, and who accumulated quite a considerable sum of money.

At last Ned Little getting into difficulty fled with his wife and family to Canada where he would be safe from the officers of the United States, and here he established himself in a fine villa and lived in magnificent style for a number of years. Tiring at length of the uneventful life he led, he left his Canadian home and began again the life of crime which he had led before. It would have been better for him if he had been contented to remain where he was, for very soon after this, becoming identified with several thieving operations, he fell into the hands of the officers of the law and was arrested on Long Island upon a charge of bank-robbery. Upon being searched a package of ten thousand dollars was found upon his person, which was recognized as having been stolen some months previously from one Mike Murray, a New York sporting man, who identifying his property was rejoiced to have returned to him a of Money, the recovery of which he had long since abandoned all hope. Little was placed on trial for his offenses and being duly committed was sentenced to a long term of imprisonment.

Sophie Little, the wife of the imprisoned burglar, from this time began a course of living which soon resulted in her downfall. She had previously contracted the habit of opium-eating, and very soon after this became a slave to the pernicious drug and to the use of morphine.

Leaving her children to the care of friends and in educational institutions, this woman, who still retained many traces of her former beauty, became connected with several gangs of sneak thieves and traveled over the country in their company. Her part in these transactions was what is known as a “call out,” and the duty which devolved upon her was as follows:

The bank to be operated on would be selected, in some country town where but few clerks were employed and at certain hours in the day, the office would be frequently left in the care of a single official. At that time, a party would drive up to the front of the building in a carriage and would request the clerk to step out to the sidewalk, as the lady was disabled and could not leave the vehicle. The unsuspecting clerk would comply with the request, when he would be immediately engaged in a conversation upon matters of business by the party who had requested his presence, and while thus engrossed, the rest of the gang, or whoever had been deputed to do so, would sneak into the bank and take any package of money that could be easily reached and make their escape; after which the clerk would be dismissed by his entertaining invalid customer, and the party would make off with their booty.

For some time she continued this mode of living, and during the two or three years that followed her husband's imprisonment she had been associated with the most of the prominent gangs of sneak thieves in the country, with whom she managed to successfully escape detection and to maintain herself and her children.

She soon, however, became morally bad, and the next information that was received of her was to the do that, abandoning her old profession, she had adopted the nefarious calling of a blackmailer, and had on more than one occasion been successful in fleecing of standing and supposed respectability of various sums of money. The first case that came to my notice occurred in Cincinnati, Ohio, whereby her beauty and captivating manners she had completely won the affection of a prominent merchant of that city. This man was married and the father of an interesting family, but so thoroughly had the wily adventuress wormed herself into his affections, that the man, forgetting the ties which bound him to his home, careless of the duties which he owed to society, yielded himself to an infatuation he seemed unable to control. The result of this intrigue was that the merchant was lured into a chamber in the Grand Hotel, where this tempting siren resided, and then having disrobed, the unprincipled woman secured his clothes and impudently demanded the sum of ten thousand dollars, or failing to recover this, she threatened to alarm the house, when he would be discovered and his reputation ruined.

Finding it impossible to escape the snare into which he had fallen, the deluded man compromised with this depraved woman by agreeing to give her a check for five thousand dollars, which she accepted, and receiving this she permitted him to depart a poorer and a wiser man. When the designing woman presented the check for payment, she was exceedingly surprised to find that her dupe had anticipated her, that payment had been stopped, and she was promptly arrested.

This was a turn in the tide, very unexpected to the dishonest woman, and learning that the merchant had succeeded in obtaining damaging information of her previous history, she was glad to accept the terms he offered her and to leave the city at once.

Again she was heard from in Boston, where she was more successful, and where a pious member of an orthodox church, whose voice was loudest in the tabernacle, and whose virtue was believed to be impregnable, succumbed to the bewitching glances of the seductive temptress and was glad to escape a scene of exposure by paying her a goodly sum of money.

After this adventure she returned to the west and lived for a long time in Detroit, where she again took up the business of a shoplifter; but being detected, was arrested in that city and held for trial. Several influential gentlemen, however, at this time, out of sympathy for the five children, which this woman still maintained, interested themselves in her behalf, and under a promise of reform, she was allowed her liberty.

Reform was impossible with a woman of her temperament; her appetite for excitement and wickedness remained unabated, and she continued the use of the drugs which had originally led to her degrading practices. For a time, however, she disappeared from the notice of the public, and but little was heard from her, but at length she came to the sun once again, and in a more disgusting light than ever before.

In the month of September 1879, a prepossessing female, on the friendly side of forty, made her appearance in the city of Jackson, Michigan, in the role of a wealthy widow who was desirous of investing in real estate in that vicinity. She took up her quarters at a prominent hotel in the city, where she registered herself under the name of Mrs. Kate Larungre, and represented herself as but recently from the South.

She soon made the acquaintance of a prominent real estate broker, who at that time was quite wealthy, but who has since, owing to a succession of reverses, become impoverished. One day while she was walking along the main street with this gentleman, a buggy containing a gentleman of about fifty years of age, and his wife passed them, and salutations passed between the two gentlemen. The occupant of the carriage was a Mr. Alvin Patton, a man of considerable means, and who despite his years, was regarded as a happy and full of fun old boy. The comely form of Mrs. Laruncrie, and her stylish appearance, at once attracted the attention of Mr. Patton, and he lost no time in inquiring from his friend the name of the lady who so much interested him. The information was accorded to him, and the fact that the lady was desirous of purchasing real estate. As Patton was an extensive owner of property, he invited the agent to bring the interesting widow to his house, which he did, and the acquaintance thus begun soon ripened into an intercourse scarcely in accord with the strictest ideas of morality.

Mr. Patton's wife, shortly after this, departed for the South for the benefit of her health, and solitude reigned in the large mansion. The happy and full of fun husband grew lonesome, and pined for the distractions of female society, and on the second evening after the departure of the unsuspecting wife, the dashing southern widow was admitted, under the cover of darkness, into the lonely residence of the disconsolate Patton. From that time forth, the sacred precincts of a respectable home transformed into a Saturnalian realm, with the dashing and depraved widow as priestess over the nocturnal orgies. Patton invited two friends of the same “buckish” tendencies, and over cards and wine the hours passed away upon the wings of pleasure. What transpired within the walls of that reputable home would scarcely be a revelation for ears polite. The spell of the enchanter was upon them, and it was afterward testified that, heated with wine, these men would remove the drapery from the form of the lascivious widow, and hold hic-rh carnival in the presence of her unveiled charms. The woman, though apparently entering with hearty zest into these disgusting scenes, was simply playing a part, and never for a moment lost sight of her object; but unfortunately for the success of her schemes, she was too precipitated in her demands. On the fifth morning after these events had commenced, the widow demanded a sum of money from the owner of the house, and he, being of a miserly disposition, declined to accede to her request.

This was the signal for a scene of violence as unexpected as it was disastrous. The irate widow, seizing a large conch shell that lay conveniently near, dashed it through an expensive mirror, shattering it into a hundred pieces, and her temper gaining fury from the first ebullition, became unmanageable. Curtains, luxurious furniture, and articles of expensive ornamentation were soon strewn about the room in a state of dilapidation and confusion that was appalling. The feelings of the surprised Mr. Patton may well be imagined, and summoning up all his strength and fortitude, the lady found herself on the sidewalk. An attorney was immediately sent for, and Kate accompanied him to his office, where she divulged to him her demand for money and the events that had followed. She engaged his services in a suit to be commenced against Patton, at the same time accusing him of attempting to take her life with a revolver.

On the following morning, the unscrupulous woman again repaired to the Patton mansion, and grasping the bell-knob rang a summons loud and long. The owner of the premises was within, but remembering the experiences of the preceding day, he declined to respond and for fully half an hour the undismayed widow pulled at the unoffending bell and rained its tintinnabulations into the old man's ears.

Of course, these proceedings attracted a crowd, and the sidewalk was soon filled with pedestrians who enjoyed the scene immensely. At length, finding her efforts at the bell unavailing, she began to try the windows, and finding one unfastened she raised it quickly and sprang into the room, boldly confronting the frightened Patton, who cowered trembling into a corner. Without a word, she rushed into the bedroom, and hastily removing her outer clothing, jumped into the bed. This was too much for the cowardly man to endure, and he immediately dispatched a servant to the house of one of his friends to come to his assistance. This friend was one of the two who had participated in the festivities before matters assumed such a warlike attitude, and he hastened at once to relieve the anxiety of the poor victim who had besought his aid.

Arriving at the house, the woman protested that she had been there all night and tried to repeat her demolishing operations of the day before. This the newcomer would not permit, and being a man of stalwart proportions, and of considerable nerve, he informed the woman that he would brain her with his cane if she attempted any further efforts of that kind. Finding that he was in earnest she desisted, and a police officer was finally sent for, who conducted the discomfited woman to jail.

A trial followed, in which the disgusting details of their illicit meetings were brought to light, and now a shadow is resting upon the homes of these men, who, until the advent of this dangerous creature were regarded as respectable and high-toned; and the woman, who was none other than Sophie Little, instead of receiving the money she demanded, found herself an inmate of a prison.

How long she remained in jail is not known, but it is believed that her pardon was urged by the very men whom she had attempted to bleed, and she finally returned to Detroit, where she conducted herself more quietly than she had done for some time previously.

In January 1881, she became the mother of a child, and, because her husband had been in prison for several years, and is still in durance vile, the matter occasioned some comment. The woman, immediately after her recovery, began again a systematic course of attempted extortion, and more than one prominent citizen of Detroit was threatened with exposure as the father of her child, unless he responded liberally to her demands for money. But by this time, she had become too well known to succeed in her demands, or to work any harm in case of refusal, and the “morphine maniac,” as she was now generally called, found herself defeated at all points in her pernicious attempts to injure the reputations of respectable men.

At length, becoming exasperated at her lack of success, or acting under the influence of her favorite drug, she attempted to take the life of a respectable citizen of the latter named city. Mr. Harding is a quite mannered, reputable gentleman, who has always been regarded with favor by everyone with whom he was acquainted, and the attack upon him was a surprise to many.

The circumstances attending this occurrence appeared to be as follows: During the month of March Mr. Harding had arrived at his office in the morning, and was engaged in transacting some business with three gentleman who had called for that purpose, when a lady, heavily vailed, entered, and asked to see Mr. Harding. That gentleman informed the lady that he would be disengaged presently, and requested her to take a seat, which she did. After the business which had paid his attention had been satisfactorily disposed of, the three gentlemen withdrew, and Mr. Harding turned his attention to the lady, who still sat heavily vailed in his office.

As the door closed upon the retreating figures of the three men, the woman arose suddenly to her feet, and, throwing aside her vail, addressed him in a loud, excited voice: “Henry Harding, are you prepared to make reparation for the wrong you have done me” Mr. Harding, utterly surprised at the demand so suddenly made upon him said “I do not know what you mean,”. The woman, glaring fiercely at him answered “You know very well what I mean.” Mr. Harding quickly replied “Indeed, madame, I do not,”

Without another word, the tigress drew from under her cloak a large revolver, and pointing it directly in his face, pulled the trigger. The gentleman was too quick, however, for the excited woman, and, throwing up her arm, the ball was loaded in the ceiling. Instantly she was disarmed, and a police officer was sent for, into whose custody she was remanded, and by him she was conducted away.

She had evidently made a very bad selection in her choice of a victim this time, and all the vile charges she urged against Mr. Harding were utterly disproved by reliable witnesses, and at last the unfortunate and wicked woman will be allowed the necessary time for reflection and reformation under the correctional influences of a loss of liberty and strict prison discipline.

What her future career may be it is impossible to say, but for her children who will be dependent upon the attention of strangers, and whose parents are both inmates of prisons, a feeling of profound sympathy exists, which may eventually lead them into the right paths and conduce them to lives of morality.

I have thus attempted to relate several of the general features of the operations of the confidence man, the bunko steerer and the blackmailer, and have selected those in which the least objectionable revelations were made. There are many cases in which the disclosures are too immoral for recital anywhere, and particularly in a work of this character. I trust, however, in these revelations that I have given an adequate idea of the extensive work of a class of people who may be said to live by their wits, and by the prostitution of talents which would have been more valuable if correctly employed. The existence of these people is always precarious. Successful today, but tomorrow defeated, impoverished and in the clutches of the law, they finally drift along the swift current of immorality until they reach a miserable end. Too low and too small for great criminals, they have been content with petty crimes and base practices, and in the end the prison or the river are the last resorts of those who, not having the courage to lead a good and honorable lives, they slink out of existence by the cowardly methods of the drunkard and the suicide.