SHARKS RUIN BUSINESS MEN.

AN ATTEMPT TO CATCH YOUR EYEAN ATTEMPT TO CATCH YOUR EYE

AN ATTEMPT TO CATCH YOUR EYE

The victim answers the "ad." and in reply receives this stereotyped letter—the form is the same in every instance:

Esteemed Friend:Replying to your application to write letters for us at your home during spare time, we beg to say that your writing is satisfactory, and we have decided to offer you the appointment.The work we give out is simply writing letters from a copy which we furnish, for which we pay you direct from this office at the rate of twenty dollars ($20.00) per thousand. You do not have to write any certain number of letters before receiving pay, and all letters you write you return to us. There is no mailing them to your friends, as most other advertisers who advertise for letter writers demand, neither is there any canvassing or selling anything, or anything else to mislead you; you simply write from a copy which we furnish, and we pay you direct. We are an old, reliable firm, always state plainly what is required, do exactly as we promise and treat our employes honestly.The work is easy; the letters to be written are the length of the ordinary business letter, and all we require is neatness and correctness. We furnish all materials free of charge, paper, etc., and prepay all costs of delivery to your home. You work only when you desire or have leisure time, and no one need know you are doing the work.We pay spot cash for all work done the same day as received. We use thousands of these letters for advertising our business, because we receive better results from using written letters than from plain printed circulars. We have a large number of people all over the country working for us, and if you desire to become one of our regular workers we request that you send us one dollar, for which we will send you our regular dollar package of goods you are to write about.This is all you are required to invest, there being no other payments at any further time, and this deposit is returned to you after doing work to the amount of two thousand letters. We are compelled to ask for this small deposit to protect ourselves against unscrupulous persons who do not mean to work and who apply out of idle curiosity.We also send you first trial lot of letter paper, copy of letter to be written (as we desire all letters to be written on our own letter paper), also instructions and all necessary information. After receiving the outfit you start to work immediately. Morereliable workers are needed at once, and we guarantee everything to be exactly as represented. If you find anything different we will refund the amount invested.Fill out the enclosed blank and send it to us with one dollar or express or postoffice money order (stamps accepted), and we will immediately send everything, all expenses prepaid. You can start to work the same day you receive the outfit by simply following our plain instructions.Kindly reply at your earliest convenience. Fill out enclosed blank and direct your envelope carefully. Trusting to be favored with your prompt services, we remain,Very truly yours,Leslie Novelty Company,PerC. C. Kendall.

Esteemed Friend:

Replying to your application to write letters for us at your home during spare time, we beg to say that your writing is satisfactory, and we have decided to offer you the appointment.

The work we give out is simply writing letters from a copy which we furnish, for which we pay you direct from this office at the rate of twenty dollars ($20.00) per thousand. You do not have to write any certain number of letters before receiving pay, and all letters you write you return to us. There is no mailing them to your friends, as most other advertisers who advertise for letter writers demand, neither is there any canvassing or selling anything, or anything else to mislead you; you simply write from a copy which we furnish, and we pay you direct. We are an old, reliable firm, always state plainly what is required, do exactly as we promise and treat our employes honestly.

The work is easy; the letters to be written are the length of the ordinary business letter, and all we require is neatness and correctness. We furnish all materials free of charge, paper, etc., and prepay all costs of delivery to your home. You work only when you desire or have leisure time, and no one need know you are doing the work.

We pay spot cash for all work done the same day as received. We use thousands of these letters for advertising our business, because we receive better results from using written letters than from plain printed circulars. We have a large number of people all over the country working for us, and if you desire to become one of our regular workers we request that you send us one dollar, for which we will send you our regular dollar package of goods you are to write about.

This is all you are required to invest, there being no other payments at any further time, and this deposit is returned to you after doing work to the amount of two thousand letters. We are compelled to ask for this small deposit to protect ourselves against unscrupulous persons who do not mean to work and who apply out of idle curiosity.

We also send you first trial lot of letter paper, copy of letter to be written (as we desire all letters to be written on our own letter paper), also instructions and all necessary information. After receiving the outfit you start to work immediately. Morereliable workers are needed at once, and we guarantee everything to be exactly as represented. If you find anything different we will refund the amount invested.

Fill out the enclosed blank and send it to us with one dollar or express or postoffice money order (stamps accepted), and we will immediately send everything, all expenses prepaid. You can start to work the same day you receive the outfit by simply following our plain instructions.

Kindly reply at your earliest convenience. Fill out enclosed blank and direct your envelope carefully. Trusting to be favored with your prompt services, we remain,

Very truly yours,Leslie Novelty Company,PerC. C. Kendall.

In their investigation of this sort of swindle the police discovered that almost invariably the victims were bed-ridden persons or women in straitened circumstances who were in frantic search of some means of keeping the wolf from the door. Many instances were found where some unfortunate had taken up a collection in the neighborhood in order to raise the necessary dollar to send for the "outfit." Persons were found who were actually starving and who had pawned their last possession to get the money that was to start them on the road to affluence.

Of all the offices raided Detective Wooldridge did not find record of one instance where a victim had been able to keep the requirements of the swindlers. The supposed letter sent to be copied was generally about 800 words in length, full of words difficult to spell, of rude and complicated rhetorical construction and punctuated in a most eccentric manner. The task imposed was practically a life-time job, and even if anyone had fulfilled it there were a hundred loop-holes whereby the thieves could escape payment by declaring their specifications had not been heeded to the letter.

The "outfit" consisted of a cheap penholder, a pen and a box of fake pills.

Imagine the joyous anticipation with which a starving cripple would await the arrival of the "outfit" that was to give him the opportunity of prolonging existence! The brighthopes of the work-worn widow who expected by this genteel means to keep her little ones in bread!

Think of the despair of both upon discovering they had paid out money so sadly needed—money which probably had been begged or borrowed—only to discover that they had been victimized instead of benefited!

Trembling, cringing, whining specimens of humanity were found in charge of each of these fakers' dens when Detective Wooldridge swooped down upon them. They were typical of their graft—small, mean, snake-like, cowardly. None among them was found who would bid defiance to the officers, who would resist intrusion by the law or who would go into court and fight. All were cheap and dirty in mind, loathsome, shrinking, snarling, but not daring to bite.

Among those driven out of business by Detective Wooldridge were the Twain Novelty Company, the Leslie Novelty Company, the Illinois Industrial Company and Blackney & Company.

"I have raided all classes of swindling institutions," said Wooldridge, "but it gave me more pleasure to run down these fellows than all the others put together. They did not dare try to get money out of people who could afford to lose it, or who were out in the world where they could talk with others of more experience. Their dupes were in almost every instance the most pitiable objects of the communities in which they lived. The facts disclosed by these raids were enough to fill the heart of the blackest grafter with indignation and a desire to trounce the perpetrators."

A new loan shark, or self-styled "financial agent," who preys on the business man and manufacturer, robbing him of hismoney and business more relentlessly than the old-time loan shark ever dared with the helpless wage earner, has made his appearance in Chicago and says he has come to stay.

MR. FIRST MORTGAGE; FIELD OF RISKY INVESTMENTSMR. FIRST MORTGAGE; FIELD OF RISKY INVESTMENTS

MR. FIRST MORTGAGE; FIELD OF RISKY INVESTMENTS

Under the guise of discounting a manufacturer's accounts at his usual rate of discount, the "financial agent" secures his first hold on the struggling manufacturer, who sees the opportunity to enlarge his business by collecting cash for hismerchandise as he sells it. But the first step with the "financial agent" means entering the portals of bankruptcy.

The loan shark first finds for his victim an industrious, hard-working manufacturer or wholesaler, who by his push and perseverance has built a business beyond his capital, and approaches him.

"You have a good business here," remarks the agent. "If your customers all paid cash it would be pretty easy sailing. Life would be one long, sweet song if everyone paid for goods as soon as they were ordered, wouldn't it?"

Even the largest manufacturer in the country could not but accede to this.

"I have been watching your business for some time with a great deal of interest," continues the suave grafter, "and I would be glad to discount your bills at the regular rate of discount, so it would cost you nothing and you would have an opportunity to double your business.

"I presume you give the regular trade discount of 1 per cent a month for cash. On that I can save you a little money and help your credit materially. You receive 1 per cent a month on your purchases.

"This you cannot take, as you are cramped for money, because your customers do not pay their bills promptly. Thus you lose 2 per cent a month by not buying and selling for cash."

The manufacturer begins to see a thriving business on a cash basis without exposing his weakness, and agrees to allow the banker to discount his bills.

"In the morning," begins the agent in explanation of his system, "you send us $1,000 worth of duplicate invoices of the goods which you shipped today, with shipping billsattached. You attach to the invoices a note for $1,000, so the account may be kept from the notes, and not from the invoices which we hold. In return for the note we will send you a check for $800, less our commission of 2 per cent a month, just what you are paying now because your business is not done on a cash basis. The $200, or 20 per cent, we have to deposit in the bank which loans us the money which we in turn pass to you. When any bills are paid we will refund your 20 per cent which we hold. Any bank compels us to have a representative in your store to look after our interests, as a matter of form. We will just appoint your bookkeeper—a matter of form entirely. Once a month we will send a man over to check up your books. He will see that none of our money has been overlooked."

All this sounds businesslike and plausible, and the arrangement runs smoothly for a time, probably six months, to allow the manufacturer time to sell all his open accounts to the financial agent. Then the loan shark sends in a statement of the account, and, if the manufacturer complains, begins to show his teeth.

On the statement appears all money the manufacturer has received and in addition an extra charge for $50 a month to cover the services of their agent—the manufacturer's own bookkeeper. Also an additional charge of from 1 to 2 per cent for additional service rendered, although the agency has had absolutely nothing to do with the accounts beyond holding them as security. All overdue accounts are charged back to the manufacturer, and a request for a check to take them up immediately accompanies the statement.

As few accounts, if allowed to mature at all, are received by a manufacturer on the exact day when due, the check called for often is a formidable one. The manufacturer is at his wits' end. He goes to the agency post haste and, after theyfind it is impossible to hold him up for a check, they say:

"Oh, well, never mind, the bank—always the bank—is pressing us on those overdue accounts, but we can hold up the 20 per cent until these accounts are taken care of. That will be satisfactory, we are sure."

DEBTDEBT

DEBT

After this the manufacturer's chance of ever seeing anything more of his 20 per cent has vanished. Each day the agency trumps up some fictitious charge of stamps, new check books, extra labor, taxes, additional fees or other charges that could originate nowhere but in the brain of a financial crook.

Finally the manufacturer finds he has nothing on his books but accounts belonging to the agency, on which he is paying carrying charges of from 5 to 10 per cent a month. The agency refuses to return his 20 per cent, which they claim has been charged off by the bank to take care of the overdue accounts.

The victim, seeing the plight in which he is placed, demands an accounting and threatens legal proceedings. The agency in turn demands he give them an itemized statement of each account, which they have. They agree to check them up, and, if found correct, promise to give him a check for the 20 per cent which they hold. That night the light burns late over the bookkeeper's desk in the manufacturer's office. In the morning the statements go to the office of the loan shark, who says:

"I'll have the auditor check them up and send you a check as soon as we find out everything is straight."

The manufacturer leaves the office. The loan shark gets busy with the statements, and stamps each of them:

"This account has been transferred to Killem's Mercantile Company. You are notified to pay this account to no one else."

These statements are mailed to the customers. When the manufacturer returns the loan shark greets him cordially and remarks:

"Unfortunately one of my clerks mailed out a lot of your statements last night, but I guess that won't matter. He stamped on them that they had been transferred to us and sent them out as he does everyone else's. He didn't understand. I am sorry."

As expected, the manufacturer, when he sees his business and confidence abused in this manner, flies into a rage. Then the suave agent takes the bull by the horns and issues his ultimatum.

"Our bank"—always "our bank"—"thinks we are not getting all the money coming to us from your account. They demand that in the future you deposit all your checks with us. I am sorry, for I know everything is straight, but your using us as a bank will last but a few days. Everything will then run smoothly again."

And unless some friend comes to the aid of the manufacturer the agency's prophecy comes true, and it does last but a little while.

Pretend to be Deaf, Dumb and Blind, Playing on Sympathy—How Philanthropy is Humbugged—Begging for Money to Reach Home—An Army of Frauds and Vagabonds—Mastering the Deaf Mute Language for Swindling Purposes—The Public Should be Careful in Disbursing Alms.

Speech is so common, eyesight so precious, that he who would appeal for charity needs no better warrant than that he is dumb or blind. In an age when words are multiplied and golden silence is seldom found, the very fact that lips cangive no utterance is so unusual that their mute assertion of misfortune is seldom questioned. There is nothing so pitiful in all the world as an asylum for the blind. There is nothing which so draws one to share the burdens of another as the appeal of him in whom the wells of speech are all dried up. We sympathize with illness, we grieve at the misfortune which visits our friends, we mourn with them when bereavement comes, but all these things are in the course of nature. They are sad, but they may be expected. But then a figure in health rises and asks for charity in the hushed language of the mute, philanthropy halts and humanity gives alms. But if the dumb can evoke assistance, assuring of sincerity and disarming doubt, how hushed is the questioning when the blind apply! How much stronger than speech or silence are the sightless eyes that stare unblinking at a darkened world! How sad is the fate of that man who was buried by demons when God cried out, "Let there be light"!

But not every man is mute who stretches out his hand in silence. Laziness is such an awfully demoralizing vice that some who choose to beg a living and decline work are even base enough to feign a misfortune they ought to fear. Fellows who find the winter pinching and the ranks of vagabonds full to repletion arm themselves with a slate and pencil and haunt the public with appeals for help on the untrue claim that they are dumb. One of the most persistent beggars of this kind makes the rounds of residence districts with a printed card on which is stated the bearer's desire to reach his home in some distant city—the destination varies from time to time—together with a long-primer endorsement by a group of names which no one knows. The fraud always asks for some slight money offering—nothing can be too small—with which to assist him in the purchase of a ticket.

Usually his paper shows that he needs but a very little more, and he asks one, by a series of pantomimic signs, to enroll his name, together with the sum advanced, in regularorder on a blank list which he tenders with his touching appeal. He is so well drilled as never to be surprised into speech, and looks with such straight, honest eyes into the faces of the women, who form much the larger number of his victims, that they cannot question him and usually give up a dime or a quarter without a struggle. The beggar can readily collect a good day's wages in this manner, and it is a matter of surprise if he does not receive an invitation to partake of food three or four times a day. He never lets his list get full. However small a margin he may lack of having raised the sum needed to buy his ticket to his home, he never gets quite enough, for nothing is easier than to stop in some secluded spot and erase the names of his latest donors, thus proving to those on whom he shall presently call that their help is not only needed, but will so nearly end the necessity for continued appeals. This class of beggar never looks like a dissipated man, is always polite, and bears refusal in so noble a way that nine times out of ten the flinty-hearted women who refused him at the back door hurry through to the front and give the more generously that they have harbored suspicion.

Another set of leeches have mastered the deaf mute language, and always ask with a pleading, painful face which meets you as your eyes lift from his written questions, if anyone in the house can talk with him. He supplements the penciled question and the eloquent glance of eyes trained by long use in the art with a few rapid passes of his hands, a few dexterous wavings of the fingers, in a language you have heard of and read about, but cannot understand. If the unexpected happens and a person be present who can converse with him, your beggar is sure of some entertainment, and the usual scene of one you know to be honest talking to one who may be equally so, and certainly seems needy, will almost infallibly wring from you the coveted assistance. It is like two minstrels at a Saxon court. You know your own has seen the holy land, though you have not, and as he tells you, thisthread-bare guest talks familiarly and correctly of distant realms. That is all any one can know to a certainty, but you give him the benefit of the chance that he may be honest, and help him with such loose change as comes to hand. Time and again the pretended mutes have been detected in their imposture by men who pitied a misfortune and gave money at their homes in the morning to see it spent for drink by an arguing, contentious fellow in the evening.

Some beggars even assume the appearance of blindness, and haunt the homes of comfortable people, led by a little girl and asking alms in the name of an affliction that is always eloquent of need. He will sometimes carry a small basket full of pencils, or other little trinkets, and glazes over his evident beggary with the appearance of sales. But he does not hesitate, once the money is in his hands, to ask his patron to give back the pencils, as he cannot afford to buy any more. These people can sometimes see as well as the child that seems to lead them, and yet their eyes, when they choose to assume their professional attitude, seem covered with a film through which no light can penetrate.

The public should be chary in bestowing charity, and especially to able-bodied men who appear blind, deaf and dumb, or are still claiming to be victims of some recent disaster. Most any one who has charity to bestow can easily think of some deserving and honest unfortunate in their own neighborhood.

The most transparent fraud on the streets of the great cities is the pseudo-paralytic. At almost any street corner can be seen what purports to be a trembling wreck of a man. His legs are twisted into horrible shapes. The hand which he stretches forth for alms is a mere claw, seemingly twisted by pain into all sorts of distorted shapes, trembling and wavering. The arms move back and forth in pathetic twistings as if thepains were shooting up and down the ligaments with all the force of sciatica.

The head bobs from side to side as if it were impossible to keep it still. And the words which come from the half-paralyzed mouth are a mere mumble of inarticulate sounds, as if the tongue, too, were suffering torture.

A more pitiable sight than this could not be conjured up. And the extended hat of the victim of what seems to be a complication of St. Vitus dance, paralysis, sciatic rheumatism, and the delirium tremens, is always a ready receptacle for the pennies, nickels and dimes of the thoughtless. This is one side of the picture; now look on the other.

It is dusk. Just that time of day when the lights are not yet brightening the streets, and when the sun has made the great tunnels between the sky-scrapers, ways of darkness. Detective Wooldridge is watching. He has been watching two of the deplorable fraternity for two hours. As the dusk deepens he sees them both arise, dart swiftly across the street and board a car. By no mere chance is it that they are both on the same car. The detective follows. Before a low saloon on the West Side the victims of innumerable diseases descend from the car, walking upright as six-year soldiers on parade. They enter the saloon. They seat themselves at a table behind an angle in the back which conceals them from the street. The detective loiters down to the end of the bar and watches. From every pocket, even from the hat rim, pours a pile of coins.

The two sort out the quarters, the nickels, the pennies. The heaps are very evenly divided over two or three cheap whiskies or a couple of bottles of five-cent beer.

Then the real finale comes. Detective Wooldridge gets busy, and a goodly portion of the spoil finds its way out of the hands of the sharpers in the way of a fine.

But for every one of these paralytic frauds caught there are dozens, even scores, who get away unscathed. It is the estimate of the best detectives that not one in a thousand of theseparalytic beggars is genuine. It is one of the most bare-faced cases of deception of the public which comes under the notice of the police.

Charity covers a multitude of sins, almost as many backs, and quite a bit of graft.

Thoughtless giving is almost a crime. It serve to encourage idleness, and idleness is at the bottom of more crime than any other one thing, unless it is poverty.

Here is a story, given in the words of the man himself, which shows how the charity graft is worked in a number of ways. It covers several fields, and is so dramatic that it is given as the best example of all-round charity grafting:

"In experience in charitable work last summer I discovered some of these truths. It was the first time in all my life that I ever engaged in any charitable enterprise, and the needy that I sought to relieve was myself."Any one will beg, borrow, or steal in the name of charity. They may be as personally honest as a trust magnate—and they would be horrified at the idea of begging or stealing for themselves, but charity makes them respectable. At least this is the theory I worked on."I was broke and far from home. I decided that I would starve or steal rather than beg. Then a fellow I met accidentally put me on to a way of making a living.

"Any one will beg, borrow, or steal in the name of charity. They may be as personally honest as a trust magnate—and they would be horrified at the idea of begging or stealing for themselves, but charity makes them respectable. At least this is the theory I worked on.

"I was broke and far from home. I decided that I would starve or steal rather than beg. Then a fellow I met accidentally put me on to a way of making a living.

"He had a lot of literature either really from a big church, charitable organization, or fraudulently printed, and he explained to me that I was to sell these 25 cents a copy for the benefit of the heathen somewhere, or home missions. I was to get 25 per cent of the money resulting from such sales."About a week later, when I had received $12 besides a little expense money from him. I discovered that he was keeping all the money. I took the rest of the literature anddestroyed it. Three days later, when I was hungry, I rather regretted destroying it."I joined a circus that was moving toward my home town in Western Iowa, intending to leave it there and quit being a tramp. I was then down in Eastern Pennsylvania. I was a canvas hand. We went west by a tortuous route, and I never could accumulate enough coin to pay my way home, so was forced to stick to the place for many weeks."The second week one of the canvas hands came to me and asked me to circulate a subscription paper among the men for the benefit of one Will Turner, a member of the band, who, he said, had dropped off the train while running over from the last stop, and badly injured himself.

"About a week later, when I had received $12 besides a little expense money from him. I discovered that he was keeping all the money. I took the rest of the literature anddestroyed it. Three days later, when I was hungry, I rather regretted destroying it.

"I joined a circus that was moving toward my home town in Western Iowa, intending to leave it there and quit being a tramp. I was then down in Eastern Pennsylvania. I was a canvas hand. We went west by a tortuous route, and I never could accumulate enough coin to pay my way home, so was forced to stick to the place for many weeks.

"The second week one of the canvas hands came to me and asked me to circulate a subscription paper among the men for the benefit of one Will Turner, a member of the band, who, he said, had dropped off the train while running over from the last stop, and badly injured himself.

"I circulated the paper. The man told me he already had collected from the band on another subscription paper, so I needn't go to them. The man subscribed over $40 to help Turner, and I gave the money and the paper to the canvas boss who asked me to make the collection."He took it, and remarked gratefully that he would make it all right with me. I didn't catch the significance of the remark then. About a week after that the same canvas boss came again with another subscription paper for the benefit of John Kane, who, he said, was a gasoline lamp tender and had been horribly burned and taken to the hospital. He told me a graphic story of the accident that aroused all my sympathy. I took the paper and worked hard on it during the afternoon and evening performances, and, as it was the day after pay day, I collected nearly $100.

"He took it, and remarked gratefully that he would make it all right with me. I didn't catch the significance of the remark then. About a week after that the same canvas boss came again with another subscription paper for the benefit of John Kane, who, he said, was a gasoline lamp tender and had been horribly burned and taken to the hospital. He told me a graphic story of the accident that aroused all my sympathy. I took the paper and worked hard on it during the afternoon and evening performances, and, as it was the day after pay day, I collected nearly $100.

"I got a shock when I took the money to the canvas boss. He gave me $50 and said:"'That's your share. We'll work it again next pay day.'"Then I went at him, and we had quite a fight. We were both arrested, and at the hearing next morning I learned that he had been working the game with that same circus about once a month. There were so many with the outfit and so few of them knew each other by name, and accidents were so numerous, that no one suspected him. He had grown afraid to work it for himself and used me for a tool."The show had pulled out and the boss and two others who had been arrested with us took the first train back to it. I used the $50 to pay my fine and get home, where I found work and honesty—and, as soon as possible, I sent to the chief horseman with the show $50, to be added to the fund for the benefit of the next person really hurt, telling him the entire story. He wrote that he had been among those who helped kick the canvas boss out of the car after he read my letter."

"I got a shock when I took the money to the canvas boss. He gave me $50 and said:

"'That's your share. We'll work it again next pay day.'

"Then I went at him, and we had quite a fight. We were both arrested, and at the hearing next morning I learned that he had been working the game with that same circus about once a month. There were so many with the outfit and so few of them knew each other by name, and accidents were so numerous, that no one suspected him. He had grown afraid to work it for himself and used me for a tool.

"The show had pulled out and the boss and two others who had been arrested with us took the first train back to it. I used the $50 to pay my fine and get home, where I found work and honesty—and, as soon as possible, I sent to the chief horseman with the show $50, to be added to the fund for the benefit of the next person really hurt, telling him the entire story. He wrote that he had been among those who helped kick the canvas boss out of the car after he read my letter."

There are probably more "touches" perpetrated in Chicago by professionals in the name of charity than under any other guise. In this matter, more of the protection of honest charities than for the protection of the public, the police have taken a hand and done a great deal to weed out and punish the solicitors for fake charities. An imaginary home for epileptics was one of the favorite plans. There was a home for this class of unfortunates that was honestly run, and the peculiar sympathy enlisted by the mention of the word epilepsy was seized upon by dishonest schemers. Professional women solicitors were garbed as "nurses" and sent forth. They were mostly austere-looking women and silent. Their work of nursing epileptics was supposed to produce this austere silence. This supposed charity appealed with uncommon strength to most people because these "nurses" were supposed to be performing the most unpleasant work imaginable amidst the most grewsome surroundings. Large sums were collected in this way,the promoter keeping everything above the liberal commission paid to solicitors.

RACHEL GORMANRACHEL GORMAN

RACHEL GORMAN

Rachel Gorman was the originator of the "nurse for epileptics" graft, and raked in thousands of dollars before she finally was rounded up by the police. Not one cent of all the money collected by her and her garbed and hired solicitors ever got past their pockets. In this case the most shining marks were selected. William Jennings Bryan was touched for $100. as was the Governor of Illinois, and many others. This money for imaginary epileptics came so easily that the Gorman woman confessed that it was almost a shame to take it.

There is little excuse, however, for Chicago men and women allowing themselves to be talked out of money for charity. In no great city are the charity working forces better organized or better known. For virtually every form and case of need there is in Chicago a distinct form of honest, well-organized charity. This condition grew out of necessity, and promiscuous giving to "touchers" who plead as qualification charity cases is dying out as the public comes to know more of the comprehensive systems for the help of the worthy and unfortunate.

It took the hotel detectives years to check the "toucher" with the fake bank account that operated largely in the hotel lobbies. Now he works in other places. He carries a bank book that has all the superficial marks of genuineness. He engages you in conversation, and at what he considers the right psychological moment, he drops a feeler like this:

"It's h—— to be without money when you've got plenty, isn't it?"

If you have met this type of "toucher" before, you instantly see it coming and chase off to a most important engagement. If not, you only can agree. Being without money when you have none is bad; being broke when you have money is worse.

"Look here," says the "toucher," "here is my bank book. Look at this balance?"

A glance seems to show that the bank owes your new acquaintance many thousands. He then tells how it happened, how he came to be without a cent when he was so far to the good with his banker. It's a complicated tale, too long to tell here. There are lost letters, the cashing of checks for friends and, confidentially, a touch of the pace that flattens bank accounts. By this time you see your finish. When you seek to escape you find yourself backed up to the wall with no chance to sidestep. The best you can do is to scale the original touch from $1 to 50 cents, thereby making 50 cents for yourself and 50 cents for the "toucher."

To "stand for" all the "touches" that are made in Chicago one would require an income far in excess of that enjoyed by most. Those that are responded to are those in cases where the donor generously thinks that the "toucher" really needs the money. Probably in the vast majority of cases there is no delusion as to the fiction woven in order to drag forth the nickel, the dime, the quarter or the dollar. Often it is worth the price to hear the fiction.

But after all one feels refreshed when a frank but hoarse and trembling hobo says:

"Say, Mister, me t'roat is baked and me coppers sizzlin'. Gimme de price of a drink. Did you ever feel like jumpin' from de bridge fur lack of a stingy little dime fur booze?"

Here, you feel, is no misrepresentation. Here you may invest a dime without feeling that you have been stung.

One of the most annoying of small grafts is the raffle, as conducted for gain. It is bad enough to be held up for 25cents or 50 cents for a ticket which entitles you to a chance on a rug or a clock when you reasonably are sure that the proceeds will go to charity, but no man likes to be fooled out of his small change by a cheap grafter, even if the grafter happens to need the money.

A story is told of two printers who lived for a month on a cheap silver watch which they raffled off almost daily until they had "worked" nearly all the printing offices of any size in town. These typographical grafters are unworthy of the noble craft to which they belong. They pretended to be jobless on account of last year's strike, and unable to live with their families on the money furnished by the union.

During the noon hour, or about closing or opening time, one of the men would saunter into a composing room and put up a hard luck story. He had an old silverine watch that he wanted to raffle off, if he could sell twenty tickets at 25 cents each. He usually managed to sell the tickets.

About the time the drawing was to take place the confederate entered and cheerfully took a chance and won the watch without any difficulty. Thus, they had the watch and the $5 also. They would split the money, and on the first convenient occasion the raffle would be repeated at another place, and by some trick known to themselves the drawing was manipulated so that the confederate always won the watch.

A South Side woman recently had 500 raffle tickets printed, to be sold at 10 cents each, the drawing to be on Thanksgiving day, for a "grand parlor clock," the proceeds to be for the benefit of a "poor widow." As the woman herself happens to be a grass widow, and as the place of the drawing could not be learned, neither could there be obtained a sight of the clock, it is not difficult to guess the final destination of $50 for which the tickets were sold.

At many saloons and cigar stores there is a continuous raffle in progress for a "fine gold watch." It is well for those who buy chances to inspect the time piece with a critical eye. One of these watches was submitted to a jeweler by the man who won it. "It's what we call an auction watch," said the expert. "It is worth about 87 cents wholesale. The case is gilded, and the works are of less value than the movement of a 69-cent alarm clock. It was keep time until the brass begins to show through the plate, and it may not."

One of the attractive forms of the raffle ticket game is valuing the tickets at from 1 cent up to as high as desired. The man who buys a chance draws a little envelope containing his number. If he is lucky and draws a small number he is encouraged to try again. This is a sort of double gamble, and many men cannot resist the temptation to speculate upon the chances, simply in order to have the fun of drawing the little envelopes.

Of course, many of the raffles are for cases of genuine charity, and it is an easy way to raise a fund for some worthy object. Many a person would not accept an outright gift, even in case of sickness or death, will permit friends to raffle off a piano or a bicycle for a good round price in order to obtain a fund to tide him over an emergency. To buy tickets for this kind of a raffle is praiseworthy.

But sharpers are not above getting money by the same means. If a strange man, or a doubtful looking woman, wants to sell you a chance for the benefit of "an old soldier," or a "little orphan girl," or a "striker out of work," it might pay you to investigate.

But here is where the easy money comes in for the sharper. It is too much trouble to investigate, and the tender-heartedperson would sooner give up the 10, 25 or 50 cents to an unworthy grafter than to take chances of refusing to aid a case of genuine need.

Then, too, there is what might be called a sort of legitimate raffle business. Of course, the raffle is a lottery under the law, and, therefore, is a criminal transaction. But in many cases goods of known value, but slow sale, are disposed of through raffles, and the drawings conducted honestly. A North Side man disposed of an automobile in this way. It had been a good wagon in its day, though the type was old. He wanted to get a new one, and as the makers would not allow him anything in exchange for the old. He sold raffle tickets to the amount of $500, and the winner got a real bargain—the losers paying the bill.

A group of young men who wanted to build themselves a little club house in the Fox Lake region, resorted to a raffle that was almost a downright steal. They had the printer make them tickets, and each one went among his friends and organized a "suit club," selling chances for a $30 tailor-made suit. Of course those who invested understood that the suit probably would be worth about $18, but they were satisfied to help build the club house on that basis, and besides they thought they had a fair chance to get the suit.

It was learned afterward by accident that there were twenty "series" of tickets sold by these young men, and instead of each series standing for a suit, only one drawing was held, and only a single suit made for the entire twenty series of tickets. In other words, they sold $500 worth of tickets for a $30 suit of clothes. They built their club house, however, and laughed at the man who kicked because he thought he did not get a square deal for the half dozen tickets he bought. They thought it was a good joke.

In these days if anything gets past the up-to-date train butcher it isn't because the public knows any more than it did in Barnum's time. We get a customer every minute by the birth records.

For a genuine, all-round, dyed-in-the-wool separator of coin from its proud possessor, the train butcher is the limit. Here is a word for word story by a train "butch" of how the thing is done. He excuses his tactics much the same way that the little rogue does who points out that the giant malefactors are doing the same thing, but "getting away with it." Enter Mr. Butch.

"I got back yesterday from a two days' trip—out and in. I had $29.65 to the good, and the company satisfied, and nary a kick from the railroad. At one little place down the line, though, a railroad detective got aboard and tried to detect."'Say, young feller,' he said to me, 'I saw you go through here yesterday lookin' pretty spruce, and I thought I'd better take a look through yer grips as you came back. What yer got in there?'"He kicked my grip, and I opened her up on the minute. He went through it like an old goat through a cracker barrel, but he didn't find anything—see? If he'd looked under the cushion of a seat in the smoker he might have found a whole lot of stuff that didn't look like a prayer meeting layout.

"'Say, young feller,' he said to me, 'I saw you go through here yesterday lookin' pretty spruce, and I thought I'd better take a look through yer grips as you came back. What yer got in there?'

"He kicked my grip, and I opened her up on the minute. He went through it like an old goat through a cracker barrel, but he didn't find anything—see? If he'd looked under the cushion of a seat in the smoker he might have found a whole lot of stuff that didn't look like a prayer meeting layout.

"Say, I bet I had fourteen $2 gold watches, twenty gold-rimmed spectacles that cost me 15 cents apiece, one dozen books, tightly sealed in wrappers, that looked mighty interesting to the jay who couldn't see into the books, and yet who had to do it finally at $2 apiece, and, as a topper of it all, my three-book monte game. Did you ever see the game?"I've got a line of wild west books about two inches thick,each, and costing me 40 cents a volume. They've got some great pictures on the cloth covers, and maybe there's some hot stuff inside—I don't know. But here's my unparalleled offer: I pick out my man and lay these three volumes across his knees in the car seat and go after him with some of the warmest kind of air about their interest, the binding, and the illustrations."You pay me for the set," I explain, "but in doing it I give you a chance to get the books for nothing and at the same time double your investment.

"I've got a line of wild west books about two inches thick,each, and costing me 40 cents a volume. They've got some great pictures on the cloth covers, and maybe there's some hot stuff inside—I don't know. But here's my unparalleled offer: I pick out my man and lay these three volumes across his knees in the car seat and go after him with some of the warmest kind of air about their interest, the binding, and the illustrations.

"You pay me for the set," I explain, "but in doing it I give you a chance to get the books for nothing and at the same time double your investment.

"I take out three small, thin spelling books, cloth bound, all alike as the bindery and the presses can make them. Then, careless like, I take a $10 bill out of my pocket, fold it across in a sort of V-shape and slip it into the middle of one of the spelling books, so that just one corner will stick out, probably a quarter of an inch. Of course, I haven't seen it! Sometimes the man on the cars will try to say something about it, but I cut in and drown him out with easy talk till he gets the idea that he might as well have that ten and the books for five, and let it go at that."But one corner all the time is torn off that bill, and about a quarter of an inch of that bill is sticking out of the center of one of the other books. Of course the jay hasn't seen that!

"But one corner all the time is torn off that bill, and about a quarter of an inch of that bill is sticking out of the center of one of the other books. Of course the jay hasn't seen that!

"Well, I begin and shuffle the books on the payment of the $5. As they are shuffled the corner of the bill that is still attached gets turned around next to me, while the corner that is torn off gets around next to the passenger, whom I have cornered in the seat in a way that he can't see everything that he really ought to see in order to save his money. When I hold out the three books for the drawing I am in a position where I couldn't possibly see the corner that sticks out, while he is where he can't see anything else."And he draws the book with the corner sticking out!"I take it from him instantly, and hold it up with the bill corner at the bottom, flipping the leaves through from front to back and forward again. In the act the corner of the bill drops out on the floor, where he doesn't see. 'Not here,' I says. 'You made a bad draw. Here's the bill,' I says, taking up the book that holds it and turning to the $10 bill, just where it lies. He doesn't know how it all happened, but I console him that he has the three wild west books for his library when he gets home.

"And he draws the book with the corner sticking out!

"I take it from him instantly, and hold it up with the bill corner at the bottom, flipping the leaves through from front to back and forward again. In the act the corner of the bill drops out on the floor, where he doesn't see. 'Not here,' I says. 'You made a bad draw. Here's the bill,' I says, taking up the book that holds it and turning to the $10 bill, just where it lies. He doesn't know how it all happened, but I console him that he has the three wild west books for his library when he gets home.

"I don't find all these suckers in the day coaches—not on your life. I found two pretty boys in the smoking room of a sleeping car a week ago, and I had $7.50 from one of them and $5 from the other, and they didn't know a line about it till they got together after I had gone."Friends of mine have kicked because I get $2, or $3, or $4 apiece for gold-rimmed spectacles that cost me $1.80 a dozen. But where is the kick. I know men who have paid $10 or $15 for glasses from an oculist when the glass was cut out of a broken window pane. I save such people money, don't I?"I am not out after the old farmer with hayseed in his hair and leaf tobacco in his mouth, chewing. There are a lot of gay chaps traveling these days who think they've got the bulge on the train butcher by a sort of birthright or something. They are after me, sometimes, till I can't go to sleep after I come in from a run. For instance, the other day a chap got into the train out of a little country town, intending to go to another little town twenty miles away without change of cars. He had $2 cash and a guitar when he got on the train, but I had both when he got off. He wasn't mad at all; he just didn't understand it. For that reason I'll see him again one of these days, and he will buck the game harder than he did the first time. The trouble is he wants to vindicate himself; he's oneof these smart alecs that you couldn't down with a crowbar—he don't think!

"Friends of mine have kicked because I get $2, or $3, or $4 apiece for gold-rimmed spectacles that cost me $1.80 a dozen. But where is the kick. I know men who have paid $10 or $15 for glasses from an oculist when the glass was cut out of a broken window pane. I save such people money, don't I?

"I am not out after the old farmer with hayseed in his hair and leaf tobacco in his mouth, chewing. There are a lot of gay chaps traveling these days who think they've got the bulge on the train butcher by a sort of birthright or something. They are after me, sometimes, till I can't go to sleep after I come in from a run. For instance, the other day a chap got into the train out of a little country town, intending to go to another little town twenty miles away without change of cars. He had $2 cash and a guitar when he got on the train, but I had both when he got off. He wasn't mad at all; he just didn't understand it. For that reason I'll see him again one of these days, and he will buck the game harder than he did the first time. The trouble is he wants to vindicate himself; he's oneof these smart alecs that you couldn't down with a crowbar—he don't think!

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