THE NAMELESS HOST.

Otago Witness, Issue 3006, 25 October 1911, Page 84

THE NAMELESS HOST.

FILIBUSTERING AS A FINE ART. Filibustering expeditions to the LatinAmerican countries from both Europe and the United States, have become so common in the past few years that their organisation has developed into the proportions of a trade or profession. It is only a few months (says the Standard) since ex-President Castro of Venezuela sent a shiver of apprehension through more than one foreign office by suddenly appearing off Port-au-Prince, Haiti, in a real warship. True it was an obsolete, discarded cruiser of one of the Mediterranean countries, but it was still a warship and far from harmless. The vessel flew the German flag, and ostensibly was on her way to be delivered to one of the Central American States. Castro's pre senee on board however, told quite another story, and the United States immediately sent a squadron to Venezuelan waters to head him off and prevent him from landing on the soil of the country which lie had drenched with blood during his former despotic rule. It was not another revolution that was enough, in Venezuela for a new one to ocfeared. Such •ifftndenks arc common

casion any particular alarm. It was Castro •who caused the panic. —Soldiers of Fortune-

Castro's final downfall is attributed to a young American adventurer and soldier of fortune who had been arrested on suspicion of aiding the revolution that ultimately became successful. - It later came to light that this yo<ung knight errant was a member of the "Nameless Legion," a group of international adventurers who made a regular business of gun running, filibustering, and all kinds of secret exploits involving danger and resourcefulness of the highest order. There are about 60 of these soldiers of fortune in the Nameless Legion, and their headquarters is in New York City, where the man who is the_ directing brain of the organisation is stationed. He is a typical business man of 60 odd years, and Avho is engaged in numerous enterprises of a legitimate character. But lie finds both pleasure and profit in financing revolutions and undertaking contracts of the most difficult and hazardous nature. He however, is merely the director. He relies upon the Nameless Legion to do the actual work and run the risks. These are all young fellows of good family, well educated and brainy, and absolutely fearless, who prefer the excitement of a life of adventure to the humdrum monotony of a business career.

Their favourite rendezvous is a quaint French restaurant in Bleecker street, New York, where the Bohemian atmosphere is more alluring than the cuisine. If they are out of funds they do not worry, for the proprietor, who is known only as Auguste, gives them all the credit they want. He knows that the chief is sure to send for each of them in turn. Then the bills are paid with a flourish _of bank notes and the chosen legioner quickly disappears for a few months, to return perhaps with a new scar or other significant evidence of perilous adventure. —"The Usual Finish " The legioners are always well paid for theso expeditions, aiid they are usually paid in advance, for it is a question of honour with themi never to come back until they have succeeded in the mission assigned to them. Occasionally it happens that one of them does not come back. The only explanation ever given of these failures is a brief comment that "poor So-and-so has met the usual finish." Somewhere'the luckless legioner lies in an unmarked grave, his deeds of heroism unknown to the world., but his fellows regards his fate only as an incident of their calling. It is the way of the legion, and all must follow it. The chief does not complain either. A shrug of the shoulders is the only comment when one of them fails to return. He does not mind the financial loss, for his profits on the successful expeditions are enormous, and after all it is a speculation. If he thinks of the man who has gone he does not say, for 'the ranks are always filled with fresh recruits, who find an irresistible attraction in th. 3 atmosphere of romance and mystery surrounding the Nameless Legion.

HOW THE APACHE THRIVES IN PARIS.

Apache was the name of a tribe of North American Indians who were at one time infamous for the cruelties they practised on the inhabitants of one ot the provinces of Mexico. This tribal name has been adopted in a spirit of brutal bravado by the most terrible criminal type at present inhabiting the French capital. From a study fox many months of the crimes committed by the Apaches in Paris, I found (says a writer in a Home paper) that the ages of these desperadoes ranged between 16 and 23. Very few of the class appear to reach the latter age. Before that time the great majority of them have either been laid by the heels by the law, or have been murdered by their associates. Return to respectability seems to be impossible for them. An Apache of 10 has in all probability already committed a. murder, for the rules of the association to which he belongs force him to show his valour (!) while he is etill a boy. Many of these Apaches are the sons of respectable professional men. Becoming intolerant of control and discipline, they have run away from home and taken to the slums adjoining the great boulevards, or more especially to the outer boulevards and the fortifications. They are always armed with revolver and knife, and the female Apache, who is invariably in attendance on the male, is as quick and as dexterous with these weapon© as her protector.

The Out-of-work Executioner.—

The crimes committed by the Apaches became appallingly frequent about six years ago, ■when capital punishment was formally abolished in France. At that time the salary of JVionsieur Deibler, the State executioner, was stopped; a place in a public museum was marked off for his guillotine, and economists of public tmoney began to rub their hands in glee at the saving of 2500 francs (£100), which each execuuon outside Paris is said to have cost. Monsieur Deibler, I may say, is a quiet-looking individual, who lives (or used to live) in a retired self-contained house in the south-western district of Paris, not far from the point where the river leaves the city. " He is always dressed in black," an old Parisian once said to me. " He has a red beard and large hands, and drives a motor painted green. You may sometimes see him playing cards in a qryiet cafe with some friends who are careful not to address him by his surname. He is said to be rich, and has a considerable amount of house property." It was said that the stoppage of his salary caused Monsieur Deibler no uneasiness, for he had shown signs of nervousness at his last execution, and had bungled his work, the fatal cut being made obliquely; but the alarming increase of murders by Apaches recalled him ■<: office. At Bethune, in the Pas de Calais, he had to carry through a quadruple execution; and as each h«ad feU inEo ihs basket the spectators who had lived in *

state of terror for months, shouted " "Vive Deibler!" and "Vive la veuve!" (Long life to the widow), the term jocularly applied by the French to the guillotine; hence the phrase, epouser la veuve (to marry the widow, or, to be guillotined).

A Righteous Punishment. — Perhaps the most impelling cause for the reinstitution of the death sentence was a murder committed by three Apaches, all under 20 years of age, m a jewellery warehouse in the centre oi Paris. When these young desperadoes were sentenced to death they jeered at and insulted the judge, for they knew that they would not be executed. Aor were they; for, in a few weeks they were transported to one of the colonial penal settlements. There is one part oi Paris which is carefully avoided by tne Apaches—the Latin Quarter, where there are thousands of students, who always welcome a disturbance. I only once heard of Apache crime—or attempted crime, rather—in the " Quarter." A young American, going to his lodging late one night, was attacked in La Rue Monsieur le Prince b V two Apaches. The American, who possessed exceptional bodily strength, seized one of his assailants, and, dashing his head against the wall, killed him on the spot. He then collared the other, and dragged him to the nearest police station. The Apache is a direct product of life in Paris, where outdoor sports are unknown among the working and tn© lower classes.