The landlord—who was fortunately blessed with a delightfully humorous disposition—prodded the "bar" lodger with a sword-stick. The poor prodded one assisted his captor by yelling for the police himself! Five years.
SLIDING LADDER AND ROPE LADDER.
We now come to the most artistic kind of burglar—the portico thief, the man who goes in for great things in the way of jewellery. There are many exhibits at the museum used in this special branch of burglary—rope ladders, treadles, strings, coils of copper wire, gimlets, wedges, woollen stockings to go over boots, etc. The rope ladders, known as "slings," are often 25ft. and 30ft. long, and are made with rope treads just sufficient to put the foot in. A hook is at the end, which is lodged on some convenient support strong enough to hold the weight of the man ascending. They are generally carried by winding them about the body.
PEACE'S OUTFIT.
The wire, string, wedges, socks, etc., in the illustration were found at Ealing when the men escaped. They had "wired" the house and grounds all over. This is done in order that, if they are chased, the wires, which are placed at ankle height, trip the pursuer up, the thieves themselves knowing of their whereabouts by putting a piece of white paper in their immediate vicinity.
These are the simple appliances of your truly artistic burglar—the man who has been laying his plans for months, the individual who will pay a hundred visits to the house before he brings about his grand coup, who will know the value of every piece of jewellery the ladies are wearing at the dinner-table, and be fully aware of the exact place where to lay his wily fingers on them in the dressing-room.
This is the class of men who are the greatest trouble to the police—these are the best customers of the receivers. Frequently a man is employed to do all the planning and mapping out for the party who will do the actual job. For this he is paid a certain price or perhaps a commission on the results of the robbery. This person will draw up a plan of the house as true—though perhaps not quite as artistic—as any architect. But he gives the thief the very information he needs, and puts on the map of the house and grounds the exact position where the operator must "beware of the dog." A man named Connor is credited at New Scotland Yard with being one of the finest adepts at this particular work of all which have come under their notice. He used to lecture on this peculiar art to young thieves, and whilst in prison wrote a work giving them practical advice on the subject. The prison officials allowed him to finish his literary effort, and when his time expired coolly appropriated the same.
