CHAPTER LXXIV.

THE PATENT SAFE GAME.

One of the most barefaced swindles ever practiced in New York has now

almost gone out of existence. It is called the "patent safe game," and

was much practiced during the late war, as many of our soldiers can

testify. It was carried on principally in the neighborhood of the

Hudson River Depot, and the complaints of the victims, to the police,

were loud and numerous. The mode of operation was as follows:

A stranger in the city would be accosted by a well-dressed individual,

who would immediately begin a careless, friendly conversation. If the

overtures of this individual are not repulsed in the first instance, he

is soon joined by his accomplice, who professes to be a stranger to

swindler number one.

The accomplice has in his possession a small brass ball or sphere,

which he says is the model of a patent safe, much used by merchants in

China and India. He is trying to introduce it in this country, and

would like to show the gentleman his model. This brass ball is, to all

appearance, solid, but to the initiated it is soon made hollow, by

pressing on a certain inner circle, when the centre of the ball, which

is in the shape of a small cone, drops out. The bottom of the cone may

be unscrewed, when a little chamber is revealed, in which is a long

piece of white paper, carefully folded and secreted. The other end of

the cone, the top of it, can be unscrewed, and a second chamber is

revealed, in which is a second piece of paper, exactly like the first.

Swindler number one takes the ball, examines it, and declares that it

must be solid. The accomplice then presses the spring, and the centre

drops out. He then unscrews one of the chambers, and reveals the paper

to the admiring stranger and swindler number one. The accomplice's

attention is here called away for a moment, and swindler number one,

quietly winking at the stranger, abstracts the paper from the chamber,

screws the lid on, and replaces the centre in the ball. Handing it back

to the accomplice, he whispers to the stranger that he is about to win

some money. He then bets the accomplice a sum which he thinks

proportioned to the means of the stranger, that there is no paper in

the ball. The bet is promptly taken by the accomplice. Swindler number

one finds that he has no money, and asks the stranger to lend him the

amount, offering to divide the winning with him. The stranger, who has

seen the paper abstracted from the ball, is sure his new-found friend

will win, and not being averse to making a little money on the spot,

produces the desired amount, and hands it to his friend. The accomplice

then opens the second chamber, reveals the duplicate piece of paper,

and claims the stakes. The stranger loses his money, and is taught a

useful lesson. He may apply to the police, if he wishes to do so, but

the probabilities are that he will never see either his "friends" of

the safe, or his money, again.

POCKET-BOOK DROPPING.

This is a common occurrence in New York, and it is well for strangers

to be on their guard against it.

A gentleman was once standing in front of a handsome show window on

Broadway, gazing at the wares it contained, when he felt himself tapped

on the shoulder. Looking around, he saw a well-dressed man standing by

him, holding in his hand a well-filled pocket-book.

"Did you drop this, sir?" asked the stranger. "I have just picked it up

at your feet."

"It is not mine," said the gentleman, feeling for his own wallet, and

finding it safe.

"Strange," said the man. "It was lying at your feet." As he spoke he

opened it, and revealed several heavy rolls of bills. "There must be

several thousand dollars here," he said.

"What are you going to do with it?" asked the gentleman.

"I don't know," said the man. "I'm a stranger in the city, and I am

compelled to leave town in a couple of hours. This pocket-book will

undoubtedly be advertised to-morrow, and as the amount it contains is

heavy, the reward will be large. Do you stay in town to-day, sir?" he

asked, suddenly.

"Yes," said the gentleman, "I shall be here several days."

"Then I will turn the pocket-book over to you," said the man, after

thinking a moment. "You can advertise it. Give me twenty dollars, and

take the wallet."

"What do you suppose will be the reward offered?" asked the gentleman.

"Not less than fifty dollars. In that case you will make thirty dollars

clear."

"Why don't you keep the money?"

"Sir," said the man, sharply, "do you take me for a thief?"

"Not at all," was the reply. "I meant no offence." The gentleman was

thoughtful or a moment, and then drew out his wallet. The fellow, he

reasoned, was evidently an honest man. The owner of the wallet would

certainly reimburse him for the amount he paid the finder, and might

offer more and the contents of the wallet would insure him against

loss. He hesitated a moment longer, and then handed the man two ten

dollar bills. The stranger gave him the pocketbook, and after a few

words more, walked off.

At the first opportunity, the gentleman examined the notes in the

wallet carefully. They were all of the denomination of ten dollars, and

amounted in all to five thousand dollars, _but were each and every one

counterfeits of the very grossest character_. He had paid twenty

dollars for a lot of worthless trash, and the game was now plain to

him.

This method of swindling is still very popular with the rogues of the

city.

THIMBLE RIGGING.

The headquarters of this game are in the neighborhood of the City Hall

and Printing-house Square.

"The 'little joker' is a very simple trick, and yet, from its very

simplicity, all the more successful in entrapping the unwary. The

apparatus is (occasionally) a small stand, three brass thimbles and a

little ball, resembling, in size and appearance, a green pea. Often the

former is dispensed with, and the crown of a hat or the knees used

instead. The 'rigger,' in the most _nonchalant_ manner imaginable,

places the ball apparently under one of the thimbles, in plain view of

the spectators, and offers to bet any sum that 'it isn't there.' Our

friend from the country who is looking on, an interested spectator--is

astonished at such a proposition, and looks upon the individual making

it as little better than a fool; for didn't he see the ball placed

under the thimble, and therefore must it not be there still? His idea

on this point is soon confirmed--a bystander takes up the bet, the

thimble is raised, and there sure enough is the ball--just where _he_

knew it was!

"Again the ball is covered, and once more the bet is offered. Eager to

prove his sagacity, our friend produces a 'V' or 'X spot' and covers

the sharper's money. The thimble is raised, a moment of expectation, a

single glance, and _the ball is gone_! A shout of laughter from the

swindler and his confederates standing around, announces the fact that

the gentleman from the rural districts has been 'sold.' Pocketing, not

his money, but his loss, the victim walks away disconsolate, painfully

conscious that he has been 'done,' not only out of his cash, but has

had the wool pulled over his eyes in a (to him) most incomprehensible

manner."

SEWING MACHINE SWINDLES.

The country newspapers are filled with advertisements of cheap sewing

machines. From one to ten dollars is the price asked. The men who

insert these advertisements are amongst the most unprincipled swindlers

in New York. The machines they offer for sale are worthless.

A lady living in a neighboring State once sent five dollars to one of

these fellows for his machine, and received in return a flimsy little

instrument, so small that she could put it in her pocket. The needle

could not be used at all, and after turning the handle a few times the

cranks and wheels became bent, and twisted into one confused and

useless mass. The machine was not worth twenty-five cents.

A fellow, some time ago, advertised a machine for fifty cents, and

proclaimed it to the world as "the most perfect ever invented." It was

simply a brass instrument in the shape of a fly, and the only use to

which it could be put was to fasten work to a table. It was so flimsy

that it did not last more than two or three days in this way.

THE POCKET TIME KEEPER.

Almost every reader of this book has seen in some newspaper the

advertisements of the various "Pocket Time-Keepers," manufactured and

offered for sale in this city. The price is usually one dollar. The

article is merely a _pasteboard sun-dial_. The purchaser can make

little or no use of it, and is swindled out of his money.

MOCK AUCTION'S.

The day of mock auctions has gone by, but there are still one or two of

these establishments lingering in the city. These are managed in

various ways.

At some of these establishments a lot of pencil cases, watches, or

other goods, is offered for-sale. The lot generally contains a dozen or

a gross of articles. Bids are started by the "decoys" of the

proprietor, who are scattered through the crowd, and strangers are thus

induced to make offers for them. Each man supposes he is bidding for a

single lot, and is greatly astonished to find the whole lot knocked

down to him. He is told he must take the entire lot, that his bid was

for all. Some are weak enough to comply with the demand, but others

resist it.

Admiral Farragut, during the war, made a bid for a penknife at one of

these places, and was astonished at being told he must take the whole

gross of the article. The old hero was not to be caught in this way,

however, and he quietly called in a policeman, and gave the auctioneer

in charge for attempting to swindle him.

[Illustration: A Mock Auction--Kicked Out After Being Fleeced.]

A well-known Broadway auctioneer was brought before the Mayor, some

time ago, on the following complaint. A gentleman, who appeared against

the auctioneer, stated that he had attended his last sale. The

auctioneer put up a box containing twelve silver pencil-cases, and the

gentleman, supposing from his manner and language, that he was selling

them fairly, bid two dollars and fifty cents for the lot. To his

surprise, he was told that he had bid two dollars and fifty cents for

_each_ pencil-case, and that he must pay thirty dollars for the whole

lot. The money had been paid and the auctioneer refused to return it,

insisting that the gentleman should take one pencil-case or nothing.

The Mayor compelled the scamp to refund the money, and warned him that

he would revoke his license if a similar complaint were again made

against him.

In some of these establishments, a stranger who attempts to remonstrate

against the swindle fares badly. He is hustled out by the confederates

of the proprietor, and if he attempts to defend himself, is handed over

to the police on a charge of attempting to create a disturbance.

Other establishments sell watches and cheap jewelry. A really good

article is put up, and passed around through the crowd as a sample. It

draws bids rapidly, and is knocked down to the highest bidder. It has

by this time been handed back to the auctioneer, and when the purchaser

demands it, he is given some worthless article, which the dealer and

his assistants swear was the one exhibited to the crowd. Remonstrances

are useless. The bogus article must be taken or the money lost, unless

the victim calls in the police. The city authorities have recently

stationed a policeman at the door of one of these establishments, to

warn strangers of its true character.

A friend of the writer--a "verdant countryman," too--once attended one

of these auctions. A magnificent hunting-case watch was put up, and

knocked down to John, as we shall call him, at the low price of ten

dollars. As the announcement of the sale was made, John, who had his

money in his hand, stepped briskly to the desk.

"Will you let me see that watch a minute?" he asked.

"Certainly, sir," said the auctioneer, handing him the watch.

"That's a magnificent watch," said John, admiringly, "and I think I got

it pretty cheap!"

"Yes," replied the man, "that's the cheapest watch I ever sold."

"Well," said John, putting the watch in his pocket, and laying his ten

dollars on the desk, "I'm very well satisfied with my bargain."

The auctioneer, alarmed for the repeater, which was his own, exclaimed

quickly,

"We generally give a case with our watches, sir; let us fit one on

that."

"No," said John, quietly, as he turned away, "I'm satisfied with the

watch--I don't want a case!"

He walked leisurely away, but the auctioneer sprang after him.

"That watch is not for sale," said the man, angrily.

"It's bought and paid for," said John, coolly, buttoning his coat

across his breast.

"I don't want your money, I want my watch!" shouted the man.

"It was a fair sale!" said John. "Gentlemen," he exclaimed, turning to

the crowd, "I appeal to you. Was not it a fair sale?"

"Yes!" "Yes!" "Keep the watch!" cried the spectators, delighted that,

for once, the sharper had met his match.

[Illustration: How a Countryman "Bought a Watch."]

A policeman now approached, and John, stating the circumstances of the

case to him, placed himself under his protection. The officer and the

crowd accompanied him to his hotel, which he reached in safety. He left

for home the next morning, taking his prize with him, and to this day

boasts that he was "rather too much for New York, if he was from the

country!"

The Secrets of the Great City A Work Descriptive of the Virtues and the Vices, the Mysteries, Miseries and Crimes of New York City · 第 74 / 76 章