AN EX-CONVICT'S STORY,

Waikato Times, Volume XXXIV, Issue 2763, 29 March 1890, Page 5 (Supplement)

AN EX-CONVICT'S STORY,

HOW HOUSE-BREAKERS and SNEAK - THIEVES WORK IN NEW YORK.

[Jfisw YORK; Wqrld.] : [This is a true story, written by an ex-State's prison .convict, whose name and criminal record are wellknown to the, "World,"] ........ . ltis just a week ago to-day since I deceived hiy clispharge from .a State,prison. My sentence was six years at hard labour, but the'deduction of the time for good conduct left mo but little over four years to spend behind die big-walls and iron bars. ..... i.; : •. ■ , ■, It was the first long term I had ever served, and no w, when I look back, it; seems : as though the greater portion of my life had been passed in the 'striped clothing of a convict. On the day that I was discharged I was called down in the office by one of the head keepers. He acted very kind to me, as he said : "Well, old man, you are to leave us to-day: I hope, for your own sake, that you will not come here again." Then he gave me a new suit of clothes and my money. After dinner I Was to get my written discharge, /and the gates, which had opened to let me in over four years before would now be opened to set me free. It seemed as though the great prison clock never went slower. The hands dragged themselves unwillingly around the dial, as though they would have rejoiced to keep me a little longer.. At last it was three o'clock, the hour set for my ' departure, and I received my discharge. The gates were opened and then shut with a tremendous clang, which made me shiver. I was outside with iny little bundle under my arm, ; and a free man. The world never looked so fair and bright to me as it did just then. The dull grey autumn sky lost fcr me its sombre hue, for I was free. Free to come and go just as I pleased. My home had always been here in New York, and-T"-took the first train for. this city. I had resolved un my way down to cut away from all the old boys and begin life over again ; to try and get :work and be an honest man. I have tried, but work is not always to be had for the asking. And, then, there is the prison taint still upon me. I can feel it every day, and imagine, perhaps foolishly, that every man can see I have been a gaol-bird, and that I am shunned. I suppose evory man who comes out of prison thinks at first just as I do, and then goes back in the same old rut of crime, perhaps just as I will. It is only natural. Twelve years ago I left the high

school, where I ha"d spent two years under a competent and kind instructor. The reason why I left as suddenly as I did need not be told here—there is enough in my story of crime without that. I had a little money, and by its use made friends who might better have Been enemies for all the good they evei did for me. One morning when I awoke I found myself broke. That day I \vent hungry. When night, came I could stand it no longer, a'nd -1 concluded to eat ■ at any - cost and take the consequences afterwards. I went into the diningroom of a well-known Broadway hotel, handed my hat to the door- . tender> and sat down I ate steadily for half : an-hour. and then rose to go. My. hat, was . returned to me, and I passed out unquestioned. \ I Beginning his ciuminal . career.' ; That,was really,,my first step;lt, Imade. trie: think::it was very easy to get everything you wanted if one only knew how and had 'the nerve. I lay in my bed a .long while that night thinking,- and before : I fell asleep I had my mind made up. What was the use of working when you could live without? , I got up early the next morning and went over to Hudson-street near Grove, thinking how I could best raise something, when I met a man who was well-known to, the police as one of the most successful " damper. workers in the city. His name is Robert Hawthorne, and he is now in gaol somewhere. I haae no scruples whatever in telling his name, for he deserves all the disgrace,this publicty will bring him. , " Hello V' said he, " what are you doing out this time in the morning.'?" . '■ . - I told him plainly enough that I was " broke,,' and was looking out for a chance to make something. " Grafting, eh'V he said. " Well, I'll give you a show right away to do some damper work." Then he told me he knew of a groceryman near, by who always kept always kept a lot of money in his till. I was to go in the store, buy a pound of sugar or something, and, picking up my purchase, walk out without paying. The - man would naturally follow me, and when we were well out of the store my pal was to slip in and get the money. This was my first job, and its success was fatal. My share Of the half hour's work was 85dol. We worked two other places the same morning, and by noon I had ! over lT>Odo). in my pocket. Hawthorne .said I was very clever, that I was tho finest stall he had ever worked,with, and I can never forget how proud I felt over his praise. The day was spent in going around to different places and sizing them up for the next morning. Ours was the usual mode of procedure in such cases. One of us would go into a store, generally dry goods or grocery, ancl ask to have a 20dol. or 50dol. bill changed. The position of the money drawer or "damper" would be carefully noted, and the occupants of the store sized up. ' : If everything was favourable and the drawer showed good money the place was marked for; a touch the next morning; Frequently I would take off a damper by acting on the spur of the moment. I went once into a little grocery store: in Green-wich-street, where there was an old woman behind the counter. A little girl liad just come in with a bottle. She wanted a pint of. vinegar. The vinegar barrel was in the baek : of the store, behind 'a lot : of boxes. While she was being . served I , looked around until I found a twogallon demijohn, and when the old lady came back with the vinegar and the little girl had gone out I asked for two gallons of the same stuff, and insisted on carrying the big bottle back to the barrel for her. I left her as she turned the faucet on, walked behind the couuter, and pulled-out the money drawer; A big roll of bills lay in the back. They were all I wanted. I left about 2dol. in change for her, and slipped over the counter and out of the i door before the bottle was filled. There was nearly lOOdol. in the roll For almost a year Hawthorne and myself worked the Ninth and Fourth Wards, occasionally taking a trip uptown districts whenever any big money came off and there was likely to be a kick. We touched nothing but money, and were nearly " always successful. Two or three times: . we were chased, but we always managed to get away to cover all right. One morning Bob went into a saloon we had marked. It was on Princestreet, and kept by a German. It wa3 a gift •; for two days previous I had changed a lOOdol. • bill at the place and noticed the old fellow pull out a wad as big as his fist. I stood outside, very near the door. I heard Bob calling for whiskey, and tho old fellow put,up a bottle on the bar. " Just what T want," sn.v.s Bob. and out he walked with the bottle and glass in his hand. The Dutchman was after Inm in a minute, and as soon as they wsre both out of the saloon I stepped in. I got the money all right, and was just coming out of the door when who should come along but the old German himself. He had evidently suspected something, and concluded to stand the loss of the bottle of whiskey. " Vat you vant ?'■' he shouted as soon as he saw me coming out. It was either fight or get pinched, so I made a rush at him,-caught him

sqUare on the- chin' with a righthander, and ran down the street for all I was worth. ;I was chased a couple, of blocks, but managed to get away. Bob was cSught on the corner. He still, had the bottle. After lying in the Tombs for a week, remanded until the detectives caught' me; he was sentenced to three months on the Isiand. I gave a lawyer 250d01. out of. the 825d01. I got out of the saloon to clear Bob, but I guess the lawyer was as big a crook as any of us, for I afterwards found out that he advised Bob to • plead: guilty in ; order to get a light sentence. That lawyOr stands pretty well,in this town to-day, and he is called a very able man.Bob's retirement brolce me up in the damper business, but I had plenty of money, and spent a couple of . months .in, Chicago. There I ■met Little Paul. All I have to say,. of him is that he is a good fellow, 'persecuted- for what, hei lias . done. Three of lis'there turned, in 'to do house. work. It didn't pay in Chicago, so on my advice they came to New York with me. We carried no tools excepting an 18in jimmy and a putty knife, for bureau drawers, and. worked over in Jersey, making a jump to Brooklyn for a change. I might say here that housework is highly interesting and exciting enough to suit the most blase crook. five years Of crime. : I have often -heard of burglars using chloroform, dark lanterns, and masks, but I can't say truthfully that I have ever burdened myself with such an outfit. A sulphur match, gave, me all the light necessary and well-worn shoes tread lightly enough on a carpet. For five years I lived well and quietly off the proceeds of my work, and' might have saved money had I been careful and if it had not been so easily earned. We three lived together in a flat furnished by ourselves, and only did damper work at intervals. To each was assigned a regular portion of the work, - and we operated systematically. To one was assigned the duty of locating the houses to be attacked, and the best tirno to work them, as well as the easiest mode of entrance. This man also acted as outside watcher when the break-in took place. The othor man was itiside watcher and lower-floor worker. I worked upstairs altogether, and became so used to entering sleeping apartments that my work seemed to me the easiest part of the whole business, in fact, to tell the truth, I got so as I rather liked it, although I knew it was dangerous, and that if anything happened I was least likely to get away. I have heard of many experiences and a few very close shaves. Once, while I was in the house in Jersey City Heights, a baby in the same room as I was working began to cry. There was a faint lamp on the table, which shed a dim, ghostly light over the apartment. The baby was in a cradle on the opposite side of the bed from where I was standing, and, at the first noise, I dropped to the floor. I ,heard one of the persons on the bed move, and I rolled underneath. The baby continued to cry, and a woman stepped out on to the floor. Her foot almost touched me. The child was taken up : and walked with a little while. Then the mother took it to bed with' her. She talked . mother-like to it, and presently - her husband awoke. I thought they would never go to sleep again. Both of my feet became:numbed, and my neck began to ache. It seomed to me as if I had laid under the bed for at least two hours before I had heard breathing regular enough to satisfy me. -Then I out and almost fell down when I tried to stand on my feet. I put my ear close to the pillow, as I always.did, and heard the muffled ticking of a watch; I slid niy hand in very , softly, taking care te press downward on. the mattress and not disturb the pillow. My fingers came in contact with ; a big leather wallet. I drew it out, put it into my pocket, and then ; went after the watch. When I got it I concluded I had been tbere long enough, and went for the door on my hands arid knees. I went down stairs in the same way, and when I reached the bottom of the flight I heard the baby cry again. The ground floor was deserted. I went to the back window—by which I had entered—and looked out, but could see no one. I climbed out and got down to the ferry as soon as I could. I made straight for the flats. No< one was there. I smoked a pipeful of tobacco, took a drink, and then went to bed. An hour later my people came in. I never saw two more surprised men in all my life. When they heard the baby cry they thought I had been caught. They waited around in the neighbourhood a long while, and then concluded to go home. They had got a lot of solid silver-ware. Iu my excitement I had forgotten all about the wallet. I opened it and found a lot of cheques and 120dol. in money. In the case of the watch was a photograph of the baby. Somehow I felt pretty mean over the night's work, and the next morning I got the boys to send back everything except lOOdol., which we kept for " expenses and actual work performed." This may be a queer thing for a man to do, especially if the man has preyed on the community and robbed people right and left ; but I believe there are times in the lives of the most hardened criminals

when they are affected by what ! might happen to be the, most trifling incident. i : WOMEN WHO TELL SECKETS. Inspector Byrnes has said, "Find the woman who loves a man, and if she thinks you are working for his ultimate benefit she will tell you all she knows about him;"' In this the inspector is right—as he usually is. It is through the tongue of a woman that many important arrests are made,. Both of my pals can lay their " temporary confinement" to the fact that they made presents of stolen jewellery to women. It is a proud day when a woman, of the town is taken up by a first-class barrister, and although some of the more experienced ones are discreet enough to keep a quiet tongue in their heads, yet the majority . are never tired of singing praises of their " men"; and exhibiting their favours.'" . I graduated into a second iStory worker, and met with reasonable success. My hour for operating was at dusk, when the family were at dinner. My boldness led to my downfall. As usual I worked very little in New York. One iiight I went across the river—it does not matter which one; that would be getting too close—and succeeded in making an entrance to a house in which I knew there was valuable property. The family were at dinner below. I made a thorough search, and secured- enough jewellery to make a trip abroad possible. I do not propose to go into detail, but I took a much longer time than was actually necessary. A girl of about fourteen years came into the room where I was. When she saw me she stopped and I thought she was going to scream. ON THE SPUR. OF THE MOMENT. " The gas is all rijrht now," I said, " and I don't think it will leak any more. Now, .if you will show me downstairs, I guess I'll go." " Did the gas leak ?" she asked. " Why, yes. Haven't you smelt it ?" l! No," she answered slowly, as if she was thinking of something else. She open the front door for me and I went down the steps. As soon as I-heard it closed I started and ran as fast as possible without attracting attention. I was badly scared. I did not go near 'the flat that night, but went to a hotel. Two days later I almost ran np against the little girl. A man was with her. " There is the man," she said •quickly. I saw I had got it at last. I don't like scenes, so I gave in quietly. The man was her father, and lie had a grip like iron. "If you let me go," I said. " I will give you all the stuff back." The reply he made was to beckon to an officer on the other side of the street. I had got to the end of my rope. As I said in the beginning, I got out just a week ago. My discharge papers show who I am, and a care-fully-kept scrap-book shows the enterprise of the newspapers in learning stories which the police desired to have kept quiet because they could not catch the offenders. This is all too brief a story of a criminal career, and there are a great many things I have not.spoken of because their publication would abbreviate my years of future freedom. I have told vvhat I.could. I have been one of the successful ones. That is all past now. I shall try' to make a success in some other walk of life. So far I have carefully shunned the vultures and harpies of society, lest I should fall into the old paths. In the future my hands shall bear no stain. This prison taint will wear away with time, and I will try to forget what I have been in the thought of what I will be.