PERILS AND PITFALLS.
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It is not insulting the intelligence of the stranger to warn him
against the unscrupulous persons who will beset his path, for they are
so numerous and make their appearance at such unexpected times and
places that the very smartest of us all are occasionally in danger of
being victimized. There are probably more “crooked” people in Chicago
at the present writing than any other city in the Union, and it is
altogether probable that this number will be largely increased during
the progress of the Fair.
The criminal classes who infest Chicago at all times are extremely
varied. The common tough, whose exterior and manner of comporting
himself proclaim his worthlessness, is not very much to be feared. Such
gentry will be well cared for by the police during the great rush to
the Fair. Indeed, it is quite probable that all suspicious or known
disreputable characters will be spotted at once and given a chance to
leave the city, a failure to avail themselves of which, will result in
their imprisonment until the Fair is over. But there are other gentry
who are infinitely more dangerous. The term “bunco-steerer” perhaps
best signifies their calling. The term bunco-steerer originally meant a
decoy, or “capper,” who led or “steered” the confiding stranger against
a bunco “lay-out.” Lately, however, its meaning has broadened. By
“bunco-steerer” is now meant the oily, genial gentleman who approaches
you on the street corners and politely inquires after your health,
supplementing this query with another as to whether you would not like
a chance to get into any sort of game whatsoever. The bunco-steerer
will turn his wits to almost any scheme to make money at the expense
of his more honest fellow-creatures. He belongs to the great army of
confidence men who prey upon mankind in general and upon gullible
strangers in large cities in particular.
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The confidence man! Ah, beware of him if you value your peace. He may
make his appearance at any moment and in any guise. The very suave
and polished gentleman who sits opposite to you at the table in the
dining-car and chats so delightfully with you as you ride into the
city together may be a wolf in sheep’s clothing, with designs on your
purse. The very clumsy confidence man who walks up and slaps you on
the back with a cordial “How de do, Jones, how are all the folks?” and
immediately tries to scrape up an acquaintance, is not to be dreaded
except by very green people who have never been in a big city before.
It is the polished villain, the polite, well-dressed person who,
while preserving a dignified demeanor, nevertheless tries to scrape
up an acquaintance and then proceeds to divulge--as he will sooner or
later--a chance by which a little easy money can be made, who is to
be feared. A very good rule to go by is to preserve a polite manner to
all strangers, but not to enter into confidential relations with any
man who hasn’t been introduced to you by some one whom you thoroughly
know. The pleasures of a chance acquaintance may be great but they are
accompanied by dangers to your purse. If you go into a quiet little
game of cards at a hotel it is a “cinch” that you will lose your money,
because the men who invite you into it are cheats and will not give
you a fair show. They are confederates and the money they show cuts
no figure, because they have entered into a combination to fleece the
stranger.
The rhapsodical gentleman who rushes up to you and proceeds to tell
you glibly of all the people who live in your town has spotted you for
a victim. Look out for him. It is easy to account for the knowledge
he displays. Such people make a habit of hanging about the hotel and
studying the history of every guest. That is how this sleek gentleman
succeeded in ascertaining so much about you, my friend. The hotel
people watch very closely for such gentry and when one of them is
caught he is never given an opportunity to repeat his offense.
There are two bits of advice which if followed closely will probably
save the unwary stranger from all harm. In the first place never
enter a place you would be ashamed to have your family at home know
you entered; and in the second place never sign any papers or lend any
money or valuables at the request of strangers.
Among the devices for snaring the wayfarer’s honest dollar is the
“snap” auction sale. Passing along a leading thoroughfare one
encounters a big shop flanked on the outside by two well dressed young
men who are doing all they can to attract custom. Inside, a red-faced
auctioneer is expatiating on the magnificence of the plate and jewelry
he is offering for sale. Don’t be deceived by the plate and jewelry. It
would probably be expensive at $5 a ton. Nevertheless, the auctioneer
is eloquent. It is possible, too, that he may exhibit for a moment a
really valuable watch or ring, only to deftly conceal it and substitute
a worthless one for it as soon as somebody shall have made a bid.
Scattered about among the spectators are numerous “cappers” who,
whenever an article is put up, bid a few dollars against each other.
As soon as a stranger makes a bid of any sort the article is promptly
knocked down to him and handed over. When he gets away he discovers too
late that he has been duped.
One has not space at command to cite all the methods by which the
unwary are fleeced out of their wealth. Besides, new and treacherous
schemes are constantly being invented. It is impossible to tell what
plot the genius of the confidence man will strike next. These shrewd
geniuses have even gone so far as the selling of banana stalks to
farmers for seed. It must not be supposed by this that all Chicagoans
are dishonest, although many foolish people who contrive to get fleeced
generally go home uttering loud cries at the greed and dishonesty of
the big city by the lake. But as long as there are geese to be plucked
there will be rascals looking out for the chance to do the plucking.
Take reasonable precautions and you stand in no danger. But make merry
with chance companions in questionable resorts, and, unless Providence
has taken you under its especial charge, you will go home a sadder,
wiser and _poorer_ man.