CHAPTER XI
THRILLING EVENTS WHICH CROWDED ONE SHORT WEEK OF MY LIFE—HOW I PROFITED NOTHING FROM ALL THE RISKS I FACED
Not all the crimes the professional criminal commits are carefully planned in advance. Very often they are committed on the spur of the moment, when the opportunity to steal some article of value without detection suddenly presents itself. The habit of wrongdoing becomes so strongly developed that the thief is unable to resist the temptation to steal even when he is not in need of money and when there is every incentive for him to avoid the risk of arrest.
This was exactly what happened to me in Springfield, Mass., one day. The fact that I was unable to withstand the glittering lure of a tray full of diamonds proved the starting point of one of the most eventful weeks of my life.
What happened to me during the week which began with my bold robbery of a Springfield diamond merchant is as good an example as I can select from my past career to give point to the lesson I have learned and am trying to teach—that crime in the long run can never be made to pay.
Just think of it—in the seven days that followed the unlucky moment when I thrust my hand into that open showcase in Springfield I was arrested three times, jumped my bail once, and successfully made my escape from a Boston cell. During all that time I was never free from fear of arrest—asleep or awake, I would start at the slightest sound, fearful that it was a detective coming to snap those hateful handcuffs on my wrists again.
And what did I have to show for all the nervous strain, all the suffering and hardship I underwent during that week? Worse than nothing at all. Although I stole cash and valuables amounting to more than seven thousand dollars, I was penniless when I finally succeeded in getting back to New York.
A good share of the money had gone to the lawyers. A thousand dollars of it I had been obliged to leave behind when I made my escape from the Boston police, and the trayful of diamond rings I had stolen was hidden in Springfield, where I would not dare show my face for many months. Even the rings on my own fingers had gone to pay my lawyers' fees and my bail.
But let me go back to the very beginning and explain just how all these things came about.
It was when I was on my way back from an unsuccessful bank robbing expedition to a Canadian town. I was feeling tired, out of sorts and generally disgusted with myself. "If I ever get back to my home in New York," I said to myself remorsefully, "I will surely settle down to an honest life."