25 YEARS IN THE CITY POLICE.

Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume II, Issue 288, 9 November 1912, Page 2 (Supplement)

25 YEARS IN THE CITY POLICE.

Told by

Ex-P.C. LANGDON.

(Mr. E. T. Langdon has recently retired from twenty-five years' service as a constable in the City of London Police force. During that period he came into active contact with many of the crimes aild criminals of London. Tho following interesting article appears in *’ Pearson s Weekly. )

CORNERED BY “CRACKERS.” copper, stand where yon .I.N are, or your brains will go back up the stairs without you.” 1 stood perfectly still on the creaky stairs in the full light of the two electric hand lamps which had been suddenly turned upon me, looking down the barred of the “ speakers ’’ (revolvers) which the burly burglars were pointing unpleasantly at my face. Thu scene was a City silver plate warehouse, the hour about 1 a.m. During the course of my beat 1 had discovered that a door of the warehouse had been neatly jeramied. and then temporarily fastened from the inside by means of a couple of strong gimlets.

I had considered it unwise to raise an alarm or even to wait for the appearance of a fellow poh-ceinan, and by means of a carelessly loft ladder close by and a conveniently open upper window 1 had entered the building. Inside, J just managed to catch the sound of muffled voices somewhere in the basement. Rashly, perhaps, I groped my way downstairs, only turning off my “ buil’s-eyc ” to render myself less of a target for the “ crackers ” (burglars). .1 reached the bottom flight of stairs all right, when suddenly—" creak I ” That did it. Hurried footsteps approached. It was a ease of two to one. AS HELPLESS AS A BABY.

" stay where you are, or you’re a dead ’un,” said the second man, as 1 stood blinking at the electric lights and the revolvers.

‘ Xow, what can you do? Yer all alone, ain’t yer? But it wouldn’t matter if there was half-a-dozen of you bloomin’ cops —we shouldn't be timid of yer.

•' We could just as easy pot six of yer as one. Don’t yer think yer’d be tter grease orf and leave us to it? Put that old piece of wood (truncheon) back in. yer skyrocket (pocket), an’ ’op it.” It wasn’t much good arguing with them just then ; they held tho upper hand easily, and need not have made any bones about shooting me there and thou. The only thing that saved me was tho fact that most “ real ” burglar.; do not count killing among their (limes, except in a last desperate extremity.

All right, my boys,” I replied. as easily and coolly as 1 could, ‘‘ under the stress of circumstances in which you hold by far the greater'advantago 1 throw up the sponge. Self-preservation strongly appeals to me juist now.” I knew what was in their minds, just ns they know what was in mine; both sides wanted to get outside as quickly as possible, they to escape, I to blow my whistle, ft was to bo a race in which wits would win. NOTHING MUCH STOLEN. I lost the race. Politely, but firmly, the two “ crackers ” moved me to the front door with their revolvers. It wouldn’t have done anyone any good for mo to resist and get shot, so 1 did as I was bid. And so 1 was beaten. For while I was struggling with the front door, which, as J have said, was firmly screwed up, they were escaping by the way I had entered. Naturally, not knowing how I would be situated, 1 had left -the ladder by the window, and they had only to find it to get out aril away.

They had flown long before I managed to get out and give the alarm. My whistle soon brought sufficient policemen to surround and search the budding, but it was a case of locking the stable door after the hoises had been stolen.

Still, though wo did not effort a capture 1 had the satisfaction of knowing 11 at I had. queered the pitch of these burglars. All they had got away with were just a few small articles which they could carry in their pockets. The inspector who took charge of the affair was greatly puzzled by it. Fie said that my whistle must have disturbed the burglars, but what ho could not understand was that entrances had been made by both the door and a window. Why should burglars want to break in m two different wavs? ho asked.

I could have enlightened him on the subject, but I thought it prudent to remain dumb. I might have explained everything to my own satisfaction, but not to that of my superiors—and I had no desire to find myself suddenly outside the Force. If I had been armed with a revolver things would have been different, and 1 am of the opinion that the police should be armed.

I am perfectly confident that if the police did carry firearms none would be mad enough to go about shooting anyone and everyone on the slightest provocation. The police would not draw their revolvers any more than they now draw their truncheons.

But th© knowledge that th© police ivero armed would strike teror into the Jic-wrts of many now desperate evildoers.