UNITED STATES GUESTS

Evening Star, Issue 19268, 5 June 1926, Page 12

UNITED STATES GUESTS

ENGLISH "CROOKS" REALLY INGENIOUS FRAUDS AWAIT THE " YANKS " [By Reginald Simpson, in the ‘ Sunday Chronicle.] They’re coming! Poppa and Momma are packing their grips, Sadie and Hiram K. are calcTatin’ they owe it to themselves to give lit’ oi’ England tho once-over while the chewing gum is still sweet in the mouth. The advance guard—tprtoiscshellrimmed glasses at tho alert and cigars at the port—is here already; another week or so and there won’t be a single moated grange or baronial castle in the j country that will have escaped classi--1 fication ns “cute” or the “cat’s j pyjamas.” LIKE A FIFTY TO ONE WINNER. I The yearly American invasion means I all things to all men. For those of us i who have acquired a passion for grape | fruit it probably means a famine. For ' the hotelkeepers and shopkeepers it is j the glad hand in the long pocket. But there exists a number of men—not to mention women—for whom it moans far more than all this. For whom, indeed, it is as welcome as an outsider coming home at, 50 to 1 to the punter who has backed it for a fiver. j The last thing in the world they j are anxious to do, however, js to make I a song and dance, about it. Though j they’re now making elaborate preparations to hand out a welcome that won’t I bo forgotten in a harry they don’t want |it talked about. Theirs will bo the gladdest hand of all—but only if no 1 ono sees it extended ! GLAD HAND MERCHANTS. For these modest and retiring “ glad hand” merchants are the “confidence men,” fakers and tricksters who are ; looking to the American invasion to 1 land them in Easy street for tho remainder of file season. 1 Somehow tho American visitor has manage 1 to get himself the reputation of a " tough guy.” That would be all right if the confidence men shared | the same belief. But they don’t. The moment they see a real honest-to-good-ne-ss, 100 per cent, citizen of the United States maltreating a cigar in the Strand they just rub their hands together gleefully and get busy. There is no more willing listener to the worn-out fable about the fortune that must be given away than the lynxeyed, hatchet-faced, grim-jawed man with tho look about him that scons to spell a bullet through tho brain for the “gentle grafter” who would dare attempt to separate him from his wallet. THE DROPPED WALLET. But the threat ends with tho look. There is no kick to follow. Tho “ tough guy ” may tap his hip pocket significantly as he walks along, but the confidence man knows ho is not feeling if his automatic is safe; bo is only making certain that no mishap has befallen his flask! If yon happen to see a. well-dressed man drop a bulging wallet in the gutter any day during tho next, few weeks, don’t pick it up and hand it back. Just grim knowingly and await developments. A tly has been cast. Watch the fish rise to the bait. A 100 per cent. American citizen pounces on the wallet like a faithful retriever, and hands it back to iff? owner. How glad, tho stranger is to see him! Ho looks into Ills eyes like a man who has just come face to face with honesty for the first time. He wrings Ins hand fervently; ho all but falls upon his neck and embraces him. “ We must have a drink on this,” he says enthusiastically. TELLING THE TALE.

The next act of the comedy finds them seated in the bar parlour of a quiet little public-house. Over their glasses confidence man and “ tough guy ” gaze at each other admiringly. “ Yes, sir, it’s a treat to meet an honest man,” says the stranger, pa(> ting his wallet affectionately. “If I had lost his I should have been in a fix and no misake.” He leans forward confidentially. “ Now look here, sir, you’ve clone me a good turn and 1 should like to do something for you by way of return.” And then will come the telling of the marvellous story how the stranger has been entrusted with a fortune to give a.way and is anxious to find an honest man to help him. Though he docs not perhaps say so in ns many words he makes it quite clear that ho is prepared to consider his quest at an end —that is, of course, if His friend is willing. “What do you say?” asks tho confidence man. “ I’ve got to give this money away somehow. Will you help me?” So the bargain is sealed. Tho confidence man hands over his wallet, and tho American—not to be outdone in the matter of confidence and politeness —hands over his. Then it is “ Goo’ by and Gor bless yor.’ ANOTHER VARIATION. But the delicate operation of severing a “ tough guy ” from a portion of his bank balance has a thousand variations. It may be an oil well—■ though Americans are suspicious of oil ■wells—or it may bo a little flutter at baccarat. If the prospective pigeon shows an inclination to waggle a festive leg in the society of the more ornamental sex, the lady will bo forthcoming. So also will her “husband”—but at a less opportune moment. Perhaps the guileless Amorcan is invited to the woman’s flat for a drink. A taxi-cab is called and they get in. He hasn’t the slightest idea where he is going, and the taxi pulls up in a back street, which leaves him no wiser. At the flat, instead of being shown into the sitting-room he is taken into a bedroom. “ I’m afraid you’ll just have to take pot luck in here,” explains the woman. “We’ve got tho decorators in the other rooms.” She takes off her cloak. A bottle of champagne is opened and tho glasses are filled. “MY HUSBAND.” Unknown to the American she has locked the door. Suddenly there is a footstep outside, followed by a sharp rat-tat. “My husband!” exclaims the woman in a frightened whisper. “ Quck —he mustn’t find you here. Get behind that screen.” When tho door is opened in comes the outraged “husband” like a volcano in eruption. “I heard a man’s voice,” he thunders. “Where is her” The woman sobs, the blackmailer rants, and the American wonders how much it is going to cost him. The answer usually comes iu the form of another question: How much has he got? All these rogueries are as whiskered as Rip Van Winkle. The wonder is that the “ tough guys ” fall for them.