If this offer was accepted—and in nine cases out of ten it was—Ben proceeded to carry out his fine work. This consisted, in the first place, of exchanging the satchel which contained the money for one with newspapers in it. Then the purchaser was informed that it would not be safe for him to carry the money himself, so he would better send it to his home by express. Ben would then accompany his customer to the express office, get a receipt for the satchel, and skillfully exchange this for a blank slip of paper, folded to look like the receipt.
When the verdant and would-be counterfeiter reached his home, he would find that the blank slip of paper was not good for the satchel, while the satchel itself was good only for what it would fetch at a second-hand store. The contents, that is, the newspapers, would not be of much value, except in a country where they used them for currency.
It will be seen that such a game as this called for a great deal of skillful work on the part of the operator. Not many men could have carried it through successfully, but Hogan found plenty of dupes, who were of course afraid to make any disturbance because they had been swindled, for the very reason that they were attempting a swindle themselves.
Ben also did more or less in the sawdust business—that is, sending a box of sawdust for those who wrote on for the “queer.” And on a good deal larger scale, he offered some of the well-to-do merchants large sums of Mexican dollars, which he said he had in his possession, and which were all counterfeit; but which, having received advances from the respectable gentlemen who were anxious to handle this counterfeit money, he never furnished.
If there is any moral to be drawn from these incidents, it is that the men who were swindled were quite as criminal as was Ben, and the latter perhaps did society a good service by bleeding them.
Another curious method resorted to by our hero for raising the wind was that of suddenly becoming a physician. Not having any college degree, Ben conferred a degree upon himself. He left New York, went to Washington, put up at the St. James Hotel, and announced himself as the distinguished Dr. Cable, whose special line of practice was that of private diseases. Soon after the Doctor’s arrival, he was one day standing on the hotel steps, when a young man came along and said that his services were needed at once in the case of a young lady who was very sick. Dr. Cable at once called upon this patient, and saw that she was suffering from nothing more serious than a bilious attack.
It may be well to explain in this connection that Ben really has a considerable knowledge of the human system, and has devoted much time to the study of diseases and their cure. Probably he is quite as well qualified to prescribe in cases of illness as are some of the alleged doctors who have bought a degree from one of the cheap medical colleges which flood the land. At all events, in the case of the Washington young lady, who was supposed by her friends to be seriously ill, Ben’s simple remedy worked like a charm. She recovered in short order, and the distinguished Dr. Cable won quite a reputation for his remarkable cure. Whenever he was called to attend a patient whose case he did not understand, he would give a little magnesia or a seidlitz powder, and in this way not only avoid injuring anybody, but really did many good. As for other physicians, the distinguished Dr. Cable absolutely refused to hold any consultation with them. His time was too valuable to waste in talking.
One rich old bachelor sent for Ben one day, under the impression that he was at the point of death. As usual, Dr. Cable prescribed his simple and harmless remedies, and left his patient doing finely. It occurred to the distinguished Dr. Cable, however, that the bachelor was a legitimate bird to pluck; and he, therefore, secured the services of a confederate and proceeded to carry out this plan. On the day following Dr. Cable’s visit, the confederate called at the bachelor’s house, represented himself to be a physician, and disclosed the startling fact that the bachelor had been poisoned by Dr. Cable. The patient, of course, was very much frightened, and thereupon the second doctor offered to save his life for the reasonable sum of one hundred dollars. The offer was straightway accepted; more magnesia and seidlitz powders were administered; the bachelor’s life was saved, and Ben and his confederate divided the hundred-dollar fee.
I may say that the last time our hero ever assumed to be an M. D. was just before his last arrival in New York. He was standing one day in Winan’s drug store in Tarport, Pa., when a man entered, and upon inquiring for a physician, Ben told him that he followed that profession. Then he explained to the stranger precisely what ailed him, and prescribed—a seidlitz powder. All this was done in the presence of the doctor, and purely for a joke. Nevertheless, Ben took the two-dollar fee which the man offered him.
After his brief but by no means inglorious career as a physician, Ben left Washington and returned to New York. There, happening to meet Joe Coburn, the conversation turned upon Ben’s fight with Allen.