Thieves on the Mississippi

 

THIEVES ON THE MISSISSIPPI

Mississippi River Thieves. — Preliminary Arrangements. — The “Weeding” Process. — Stop Thief! — “Excuse my mistake, I thought this was my room.” —First-Class and Second-Class Thieves. — Smooth Tongues and Fair Faces. — The Middle-Aged Clergyman. — Victimized Gamblers.

The traveling public of all kinds and classes seems to have been the prime choice of thieves. Every mode of travel is associated with the danger of being robbed by these experts. The thief is present on the high seas, in the railway carriage, and on the palatial boats that travel the waters of our large navigable rivers, and his actions never cease. Many unsuspicious voyagers have become the victims of this lawless fraternity, and upon discovering their losses, are unable to recall a single individual upon whom their suspicions would fall with any reasonable degree of certainty. Men, who have taken every legitimate precaution against robbery, have been victimized as often and with equal success as their less sophisticated neighbors and have been equally unable to name the thief or point out the individual suspected of the crime.

The hundreds of vessels that ply the waters of the Mississippi River have afforded a more bountiful harvest for the thieves than any others. For that reason, the experts have selected them. Travelers are plentiful, and they tend to transport considerable amounts with them.

The level of protection from being caught these thieves experience is almost unbelievable, yet it seldom occurs that one of them is seized, and then, it is because his face has become known to the officers, and his prior presence on the boat has been related to the losses of the other passengers.

The steamboat thief travels and works alone, as from the nature of his business, he needs no help. The presence of a partner might only lead to suspicion. He is a person of good address and a well-to-do gentleman who may be traveling either for business or pleasure. He is polite in his deportment and suave in his manners. From his appearance and actions, he would never be suspected of being a thief.

 As these boats are provided with guards, the first difficulty experienced by the thief is to secure either the absence or the obliquity of these officials. As is the case, however, he finds but little difficulty in pulling off his purpose in this direction. Those men, with their extravagant habits, find their pay insufficient to fulfill their expensive taste and to keep their luxurious notions of living. For this reason, the thief finds that judicious giving of a twenty- or fifty-dollar bill often creates impressive effects.

It must be noted, however, that there are many honorable exceptions to this rule. Most of the officers are men of the most sterling honor and unimpeachable integrity. Their silence or brief disappearance could not be bought at any price or under any conditions. Their silence or brief disappearance could not be bought at any price or under any conditions. Unfortunately, there are many exceptions to this rule.

Prior to beginning his work, the thief has a number of important preliminaries to arrange. before he can rely upon successful operations. One of these is the “fixing” of the guards I have mentioned. He must also watch the passengers closely to discover who among them is prone to become the most profitable targets. He can do this with great ease and quite well on the typical boat.

Being near the clerk's office, he can safely watch all travelers buying a ticket or reserving a stateroom. From the personal appearance and from the display that the purchaser makes of his money, added to the lifelong experience of the thief, he is thus enabled to discover not only the individual to be robbed with advantage but also the number of the stateroom he is to occupy. The keys to these rooms are hung on an ornamental rack, designed for the purpose, and in sight of the observant passenger. By these means, the victim is both “marked” and found.

Because the locks in these cabins are only for show, offering privacy and not protection, the burglar needs just one tool to help with the job. This tool is two of the essential nippers—and it often occurs that the thief will not need this implement. Many of the passengers have a deep-seated dread of fire while on shipboard, and many of them leave their doors unlocked so that in case of an alarm, no obstacle will prevent them from reaching the deck at the earliest possible moment.

Once the passengers to be targeted are selected, the thief would pass his time in pleasant talk or in reading until bedtime. The most experienced and expert operators begin their work at about one o'clock in the morning. He removes all his superfluous articles of clothing, keeping only a woolen undershirt and his pantaloons. His ability to go quickly and quietly is the reason; it will be remembered that these staterooms have two doors, one of which opens into the cabin or saloon, and the other on the outside into the passageway that extends around the railing or gunwale of the boat. If the thief is working on the same side of the boat on which his own stateroom is situated, he always enters and leaves from the outside door and never under any circumstances from the inside or cabin. The labor of the steamboat thief is much lightened from the fact that passengers have but one place to hide their money, and that is under their pillows. They cannot put it under their mattress as in hotel apartments because the berths have a single mattress resting upon springs. This the thief regards as evidence of great consideration and kindness on the part of the boat company, and his gratitude is so great that he never tries to rob any of the officers.

Entering a stateroom through the open door, or using his tools, he at once puts on his face a crepe mask that hides his features, without disturbing the clearness of his vision. A fast search of the clothing is done, and then, if he sees nothing, he inserts his bare arm under the pillow and silently draws forth the desired wallet. A first-class thief of this branch of the profession will never take jewelry under any circumstances. After protecting the wallet, he goes out to his own stateroom and then does the “weeding” process. Weeding consists of extracting all the large bills from the wallet and substituting small ones—with which he is always supplied—so that the bulk will be about the same as it was before. With speed, returning to the victim's stateroom, he replaces the wallet and then seeks other prey, which are treated in an analogous manner until prudence calls a halt. This “weeding” operation's benefit is that travelers tend to have enough insignificant change to pay for trip-related expenses. Their money container or purse seemed the same as when they left it. They often do not know about the theft until they have left the ship, and by then, the criminal has disappeared, and the unlucky person cannot understand the peculiar change in their money.

Should the loss, however, be discovered before the landing of the boat and an alarm sounded, the thief himself is among the loudest to proclaim his own loss and to demand restitution from the officers or the immediate apprehension of the unscrupulous appropriator of his money.

The reason for putting on the crepe mask after the thief enters the stateroom of his victim is in case he finds the occupant awake. He steps back and asks the gentleman’s pardon, saying that he was just returning from the bathroom and made a room error. If this excuse is received in good part by the disturbed passenger, all is well, and he continues in his work—never, however, troubling that party again during the night. Should the alert traveler grow doubtful, the thief will end their actions right away, go to sleep, and get off at the next station. It will be seen, then, that the claim of confusing the room with his would be foolish if the person offering it showed up with a crepe mask on their face.

The quickness and expertise of these criminals is striking, and often just a short period is required to take a sleeper's money pouch, and in a half hour's busy work, a thief can plunder a dozen rooms and accomplish all the adjustments and exchanges necessary to keep him safe from notice or detection. It is a matter of fact, however, that none but the most expert professionals adopt this line of operation. Numerous instances have been brought to my attention where the robbed traveler did not find out about the theft until arriving at the destination, and often, at home; hence, the theft received minimal attention. This, it is needless to say, is much to the advantage of both the successful thief and the corrupt watchman, for in case of immediate discovery an investigation would be made, the result of which would be disastrous to the individual whose duty it was to be on the alert and to preserve the safety of the sleeping voyagers.

There are, however, a few river thieves who may be regarded as second-rate operators, and these individuals will rob a passenger of everything in sight—money, jewelry, papers, and anything that purports to be of value—but never take anything from under the pillows of their victims from their lack of sufficient nerve and the necessary amount of experience.

Should a first-class thief discover one of these latter characters on a boat, and he is quick to do so. He at once approaches him. He warns him, with resolve, against continuing his harmful actions during the journey, and then, with a show of kindness, will give him some money and offer more when the journey concludes and the work is finished. The second-rate operator always accepts, and by this means he prevents the mistakes of an inexpert operator, whose detection would be compromising himself, and secures the privilege of monopolizing all the fat wallets that may be within the range of his operations.

Thus, to be safe from the attacks of those outlaws, I would caution every traveler on the riverboats to keep their cash and belongings safe with them and to close their doors with caution when sleeping. In these days of depravity and wickedness, it is dangerous to trust any ideas of assured safety, and the necessity for caution in making traveling acquaintances is always imminent. The smoothest tongue and the fairest face may belong to the most desperate criminal, and intimacy is sure to result in disaster.

I recall an incident that happened years ago, when gambling was common on those boats, and large sums of money were often won and lost on a single evening. On the occasion I refer to, there were three noted gamblers on the boat, and during the evening these men succeeded in each winning a considerable amount of money from their unsuspecting fellow passengers. The boat held a middle-aged clergyman; his shaven face and sanctimonious manner suggested he was one of the most orthodox religious teachers. In quiet but decided tones, he condemned the practice of gambling, and with solemn words of warning, he tried to induce his companions to desist from indulging in the vices and hazards of play, all to no avail, though. The fascination was too great to be overcome, and with a sad expression, the holy man withdrew from the cabin and sought communion with his thoughts on the ship's deck.

 When midnight arrived, however, and the games were closed, many of the travelers, whose whitened countenances and glassy eyes betokened loss and remorse, were inclined to wish that they had listened to the admonitions of the warning clergyman. At dawn, there was a loud alarm and an outcry that rivaled Bedlam with its confusion. The victorious wagerers were wild and furious.

Inquiry developed into the discovery that while everyone slept, the staterooms of the successful players had been violated. They had imbibed in exaggeration and therefore slumbered in peace. And when they awoke at dawn, they discovered to their dismay that their enormous winnings of the night before, together with their own funds, had disappeared. An investigation followed, and then it happened that the solemn-faced clergyman had left the boat at about daylight and had left behind him in his stateroom the following epistle:

“To the children of the Evil One: Beware of the vices of games of chance.”

“ELDER SHORTSMFFLE.”

This, beyond doubt, explained the cause of the disappearance of the money and the departure of the robber. The clerical-looking display had decamped with fourteen thousand dollars and was never apprehended.