The postage stamp grafter is one of the most pestiferous of the
"toucher" genus. He bobs up in offices, on the streets, in hotel
lobbies, everywhere and at all times. Here is the song he sings:
"I'm broke, mister, but I don't want any money. I am
looking for work and have just answered an ad. in the
paper, but, to tell the truth, I have only got a nickel,
and if I break that to buy a postage stamp I can't get a
cup of coffee. Just a 2-cent stamp is all I ask."
It is too small a request to refuse, and besides there is a chance
that the fellow may be telling the truth. Anyway, it is only a stamp.
You produce the stamp, and may give the "toucher" several stamps
so that he can answer more advertisements for work. A half day of
industry at this scheme gives any competent "toucher" enough stamps
to buy a little food, a good deal of drink and a night's lodging.
There is no difficulty in disposing of stamps thus collected, for the
salonkeepers and others that buy them--sometimes at a discount--know
they have been given, and not stolen.
"You are the third man that has tackled me for a stamp today," said
a man in the lobby of a downtown hotel recently to a young man who
"wanted to answer an advertisement for work." "Here, give me the
letter; I'll stamp and mail it."
Whereupon, to use the vernacular of his kind, the young man made a
sensational "getaway" via the side entrance.
Akin to the postage stamp scheme is the one of "touching" for three or
some other odd number of pennies to make up the amount necessary "to
send a telegram home for money." The "toucher" in this case usually
admits frankly that he came to Chicago and got drunk, spending all
his money. For victims he picks the men that look like they might
sympathize with a fellow in his predicament.