A first step was to procure directories and lists of addresses, by which means vast numbers of circulars were distributed through the country. It was the business of No. 2, the “writer,” a mere clerk, to send these out, enclosing in each envelope forged cuttings from newspapers (printed, of course) which set forth the extraordinary advantages offered by those who had “green goods” for sale. At the same time a slip was inserted giving an address to which anyone might telegraph so as to secure the offer before it was too late. The address was always bogus, some number in a street of a house that did not exist, or an entirely vacant lot of ground. The telegrams were, however, delivered by the telegraph companies to the swindlers in person, a service for which a substantial fee was paid.
It was supposed that as many as 10,000 circulars a day were despatched. One or two at most would meet with a response. Then the “bunco steerer” went off forthwith to bring the victim in; to hand him over to the rogues waiting to despoil him in some low tavern or opium shop where they consorted together, with the direct permission of the police. The “guy,” or the “come-on,” as the victim was styled in the swindlers’ argot, when he appeared was handled in various ways. The first step was to make a price, and that was generally at the rate of 10,000 dollar bills for 650 dollars paid down. Smaller sums were also negotiated, and the process was not always quite the same. Either the good bills were counted over and deposited in a box, which by some sleight-of-hand was exchanged for another filled with waste paper, or the bills were arranged in packages with a good note on top and bottom, the intervening notes being bogus. This latter dodge was used with any suspicious customer, a “hard” victim, as he was called. There was another plan carried out with a private carriage; it was called the “carriage racket,” and the transfer was made by means of a couple of bags or satchels. In one the genuine notes were deposited by a confederate, who entered the carriage with the victim, and sat by his side. The worker of the fraud, after filling the satchel, would kindly offer to accompany the victim back to the station, and en route the exchange was made with another—bogus—bag.
In all cases the railway station played a principal part in the fraud; it was essential that the victim should be a stranger who came from a distance, and was returning home after the deal. He was cunningly debarred from examining the box or the satchel, whichever was employed. In the case of the box he was given a key which would not fit the lock; and in the case of the satchel he was told to cut the leather through when he got to his journey’s end. The idea in both cases was that he should not detect the fraud before leaving New York; that would, of course, have been inevitable directly he opened the receptacle. As he was doing a shady, fraudulent thing in buying the notes, he would generally fall into the trap, realising the necessity for great caution and secrecy.
Now and again a victim discovered the trick, and refused to leave the city till he had exposed it. This case was met by the “tailer,” who was in waiting at the railway station disguised as a policeman. When he came on the scene he met the complaint made with an immediate threat of arrest, and the victim, knowing his intention had been dishonest, was only too glad to get off. But sometimes the “guy” was swindled in a different way. He paid his money, but got no notes. They were to be sent to his address; when they failed to arrive he would come back to inquire, and probably buy more, which were also to follow, but never did. This trick was often carried out three or four times. At last the parcel would be handed into the “express” or parcel office before his eyes, but to a confederate, who, when the notes were missing, was accused of having stolen them, and was not, of course, to be found.
Not only did certain members of the police connive at this nefarious traffic, which flourished exceedingly, but they actually co-operated in it. A police captain provided the “joint” or place of meeting where the thieves beat the victim or swindled him. The proprietor was in the swim, and received his commission, and if superior officials interfered, as sometimes happened, the “joint” was transferred, then and there to a new place. The “green goods” man always had timely notice when any police raid was in contemplation; the police were also most useful in taking charge of the “come-backs,” the “guys” or victims who would not submit to extortion, and it was often possible to take them in hand when they applied at the detective bureau so as to nullify their proceedings, or at worst give the hint to the swindlers to make themselves scarce. The police were also kind enough to assist “King McNally” in the discipline of his subjects. Whenever a “writer,” who was the medium by which the profits were shared after the first half had been monopolised by the capitalist, was behindhand with his payments, the police were informed, and the defaulter arrested. The profits of this nefarious business were very high. It was said that McNally often took as much as £1,600 in a single day. Some of the capitalists or “backers” made large fortunes, £20,000, £30,000, even £40,000 apiece.
Another species of illegitimate revenue was that drawn from the gaming houses, the policy shops and pool rooms which are apparently very numerous in New York. This particular traffic appears to have originated the slang epithet “pantata,” which was the familiar title for the police official who gave his
EQUIPMENTS OF THE NEW YORK POLICE.
1. Winter Helmet. 2. Summer Hat. 3. Revolver. 4. Shield. 5. Day Stick. 6. Rosewood Baton for Parade. 7. Belt and Frog. 8. Night Stick. 9. Handcuffs (new style). 10. Nippers.