The author of this work has traveled over most of the surface of the United States, and has set up the green tables in towns and cities in nearly every State in the Union, and in each and every instance he has been compelled to purchase official protection for his unlawful trade; making payments in some cases to mayors; sometimes to the chiefs of police or city marshals, and on other occasions to individual policemen[policemen]. In this way the authority that is invested with the duty of protecting society is suborned and prostituted to the vile end of extending official protection to the very crime which it is its sworn duty to exterminate. That this perversion of public authority is almost universal seems to be unquestionable. We have recently been furnished with a forcible example of this in the great city of Chicago, where it has been strikingly illustrated that when rogues fall out honest men sometimes get their own. For months in the western metropolis efforts had been made to compel the public authorities to the enforcement of the law regarding this vice. It was persistently denied by the local authorities that there was any gambling going on in Chicago, and this in the face of a general public knowledge to the contrary. In order to prove the hypocrisy of the position of the officers of the city government in this matter, a daily newspaper entered upon a crusade upon its own account. Private detectives were hired and raids constantly made for some weeks, resulting in many arrests, the seizure of a large quantity of gaming apparatus and its destruction in the court-rooms of the city. Yet, still the authorities refused to act and continued to ignore the prevalence of gambling rooms throughout the city, even after the press had given lists of names and full information upon which to proceed. It was publicly and very directly intimated that this alleged ignorance on the part of the city government was a matter of bargain and sale—that specific money payments were made by the criminals for immunity from the proper consequences of their criminal operations; that, in fact, the officials of a great corporation had been suborned to become accessory to the operations of the gamblers. One part of this nefarious understanding was that while the races at Washington Park were in progress the down-town pool-rooms should remain closed in order that the race-track swindlers might be enabled to make the most of their opportunities. With the same scrupulous fidelity which is said to characterize transactions between some other violators of the law, this agreement was carried out. Then followed another race meeting at the track of one Corrigan, a noted horseman on the West Side. Corrigan claimed the same privilege of shutting out the pool-room competition as had been extended to the Washington Park club.

The pool-room keepers refused to recognize any obligation of the kind. They claimed that their agreement with the city administration had been completed; that they could not afford to remain longer closed up, and that by reason of their payment of the assessments which had been regularly levied upon them by the representatives of the city administration, they were entitled to continue their business without molestation. Then Corrigan began a war upon them by the aid of a private detective organization, and the shameful fact that the gamblers had the protection of the police force and its management became apparent beyond dispute. Not only was this the case, but the officials who had hitherto placidly ignored general and widespread gambling in the center of the city, became the active and open allies of the city gamblers, and used their legal powers in an endeavor to punish Corrigan by making arrests at the race-track. Corrigan resorted to the courts for protection against this interference, and secured a bill of injunction restraining the Mayor and Chief of Police from interfering with book making at his track. In the bill filed to secure this injunction the whole disgraceful bargain between the representatives of the city’s police force and the crooks and gamblers was distinctly related, alleging a direct compact of corruption by which crime purchased a stipulated protection at the hands of those sworn to uphold and enforce the laws. There is little reason to doubt that this practice is not confined to Chicago. It exists everywhere. It calls for a remedy, because it is a dangerous and deadly menace to morality, and to the security and safety of society. An aroused public opinion is needed everywhere to offset this great evil, and it is one of the earnest purposes of this work that good people may be awakened to the sense of the danger that threatens the public welfare in this particular. The foundation of justice, the fountain of the law, are thus assailed with an unscrupulous boldness that would be incredible if the facts were not beyond dispute. It is impossible to conceive a graver danger to the best interests of the republic than this widespread pollution of the honor of the custodians of law and morality, and the instinct of self-preservation on the part of all the decent elements of society should point the way to a united effort to secure reform and redress.

THE EXTENT OF THE MANIA.

Year by year the fever of gambling on the races increases in intensity and the range of its operations. Thousands upon thousands go to the races who would not be able to distinguish between a Kentucky thoroughbred and a Miami valley towpath mule. They do not go for the “sport” there is in a splendid contest between the noblest of the brute creation. They go to “speculate,” to “buy pools;” in short, to gamble, in the idiotic hope that by some blind chance they may return a “winner,” with a hat full of gold bought for a silver dollar. In fact they go out sheep and they return home shorn. Speaking of the recent universality of this gambling mania, a story goes that lately a St. Louis wholesale merchant’s cashier came to him one day and said:

“I should like to get away this morning sir; my sister is to be married to-day.”

“Certainly, certainly,” said the good-natured merchant.

Presently came the book-keeper, with a rueful countenance, who said:

“I’m feeling very unwell, sir, and if you could spare me, I’d like to be excused for to-day.”

The amiable merchant cheerfully gave the requested permission. Shortly after the errand boy appeared.

“Please, sir; my grandmother died last night, and she’s to be buried this afternoon. Please may I go home?”