Part 36

"This is the man, and that's the tarnal striped dog I told you of. See here" (to the rag-man); "this man wants to see you."

The rag-man looked at me with wonder and some expression of fear. "Let him see me, then, if he wants to," he muttered; "no _great_ sight, I guess."

"Yes, I wished to see you a minute," said I; "and I wanted to talk with you. I won't hinder you long, and will give you twenty-five cents an hour for the time I hinder you. Here, take that to begin with," slipping a new twenty-five cent piece of silver into his hand. The rag-man's eyes glistened, and he looked up with an air of mingled surprise and gratitude.

"Your route" (for all these fellows have routes of their own, which they observe with as much honor among themselves as bakers and milkmen, never trespassing on each other),--"your route lies, when you go up, along such and such streets?"--naming some.

"Yes, sir."

"Well, did you ever see this man before?" pointing to the coachman.

He eyed him carefully, and replied, "'Pears to me I have; but I dunno."

"Well, did you ever see this bag?" I asked, taking it from my pocket, and handing it to him.

He looked at it but an instant, and said, "Yes; and I guess that's the man that give me six cents for it; yes, that _is_ the man."

"Well, my good fellow," said I, "I want to find out where you bought it. That's what I hunted you up to inquire about. I want to find the man that sold it to you."

The rag-man's memory was good, and he told me where he got the bag. It was among the last things he purchased the day he sold it to the coachman; and there was something about it peculiar, in this, that the rag-man, grumbling a little at the price he had paid for a few pounds of rags,--some few cents,--the old woman of whom he bought them threw that in, and told him to "go 'long."

I dismissed the coachman, offering to pay him for his time, but he would take nothing; and I went on with the rag-man and his striped dog. But it was slow work, and we had some distance to go; so I assisted him in getting his cart and dog housed in a livery stable on our course, and took the cars, and soon found the old woman, a gatherer up of old odds and ends, living in Bayard Street, just out of the Bowery. She traded a "good deal," she said, "with William, here" (the rag-man), "off and on."

I brought the matter of the bag to her notice. She remembered it well; and the next thing was to ask where she got it. That she could tell me, too. She had a daughter living in a building in Pine Street, below William, and it was she who sold it to her mother, with a lot of old rags and papers. "It comed to me," said she, "in the pile I had from her."

On inquiry, I found that the purchase had been made, as near as I could calculate, about three days after the robbery. I employed the old woman to go down to introduce me to her daughter, whom I found to be a very good, honest woman, who got a living by cleaning down-town offices, while her husband did a little private watching, now and then, and helped "along shore" a little.

The woman being introduced to me by her mother, who said I was an old friend of hers (as I had asked her to; for I had given her some slight hint of why I wanted to learn where the daughter got the bag, and had paid her beforehand for her time in waiting on me), made ready reply to my queries.

"Yes, yes; now I do remember," said she, scratching her forehead in a peculiar way with her stubbed fingers, "where I got that; it was that sassy brat in ----'s office gin it to me."

"Where's that?"

Her reply gave me the number of a broker's office in Wall Street, and things began at once to shape themselves in my mind. If I had not been a detective, I might have been surprised; but it was easy now to form an intelligible theory. I did not know this man, and made no inquiries about him of the woman; but I asked her how the boy came to give it to her.

"He ain't a young boy," replied she; "he's full-growed, and has got whiskers,--side whiskers,--but he's full of old Ned, and acts like a boy, poking fun all the while; and I call him a boy. Well, he gin it to me one night,--let's see,"--and she went over the list of names of offices where she had worked, and said, "Yes, it was Friday,"--fixing a time just the day after the robbery. She was there, it seems, just after business hours were over, to clean the room. Her day there was Saturday, generally, instead of Friday, and she went three times a week usually, and washed and mopped. Being a jolly woman, she was bantering with the "boy" (clerk), as she called him, who had staid to lock up after her. The clerk had thrown some old papers upon her, which he gave her to carry off, and she'd made a wad of some of them, and thrown them back to him; and so they had "smouched" each other,--as she termed that sort of play,--when just as she was going out, the clerk seized this bag from under the counter, and threw it, rolled up, at her head. She seized it, and said, "Thank you; this will do to bile puddings in; I'll take it."

"Take it, Sarah," said he; "and we'll call it quits for now," as she left the office.

That was her circumstantial account. I was glad, of course, to find her memory so clear. There was no mistaking that evidence. The next step was to make the acquaintance of that boy, or clerk; and to do so, I went next day into the broker's office to get some money changed. The clerk was in; and after doing my business, I got into some conversation with him,--for I had taken an early hour when I knew there would be few customers in. I found him apparently an excellent young man, good-hearted, intelligent, and honest, I thought. His employer was not in; but I called at a later hour of the day, having watched the premises, and seen the clerk go out on some errand, and got some money changed by the broker; and I studied him as well as I could. He was a wiry man, of medium size, with much determination in his face, indicated particularly by one of those protruding chins, which disclose not only force of character, but the ability to do mean, desperate things.

My mind was made up that the broker was the man who stole the money--such was my fixed opinion; and now how to trap him. The clerk was an honest young man; of that I was quite satisfied. The broker could not, I thought, be doing a large business, and his face did not indicate that liberality which would allow his giving his clerk (and he had but one, in his little basement den of an office) a large salary, and I made up my mind that the first step was to get the clerk out of that office into some other place, by giving him a larger salary.

At this juncture of affairs I sought the president, and told him that I had traced the matter into a Wall Street broker's office; but did not at that time tell him where; that there was a clerk in the office who was evidently a very nice and efficient fellow, and that I wanted to get him out of there as the next step; that he was surely a good penman, and probably a first-rate bookkeeper; and he must find a place for him, and I would try to get him out.

To this the president quickly consented, and told me to call next day, and he would have some place or other for him, among some of his friends. We discussed what a clerk probably got a year in such a place; and decided that two hundred dollars more would be bribe enough for him. "And I'll do better than that for him, if necessary," said the president. "Now tell me who this broker is, if you please."

I declined to tell him then, for I wished to get my evidence a little more certain. I called the next day as he told me, and found that he had been active, and had secured three or four places for the young man, should I find it necessary to get him into one. I lost no time in coming upon the young man that day, as he went out to his customary lunch, and walked along with him, managing to address myself to his jocose nature, and we sat beside each other on stools at the restaurant. I went out with him, and a part of the way to his office with him too, when, stopping suddenly, I said,--

"I must go another way; hope to meet you again;" and drawing my handkerchief suddenly from the outer breast pocket of my coat, as if to wipe my mouth, flirted out with it some tickets, three of them to Wallack's Theatre, with which I had prepared myself for the purpose. These were "complimentaries," with which I was not unfrequently supplied, in view of some services I had once rendered Mr. James Wallack, in a matter involving no small amount of jewels, etc.

I picked up the tickets as they fell to the pavement, and, said I, "This is providential for you, perhaps. I see you like fun; there's a good comedy on to-night; would you like to go?" handing him one of the tickets. "And here's another; may be you'd like to take your lady."

"Ho, ho!" said he, "that's generous; but I won't take but one, for I haven't any lady to take."

"Well, give one to some friend, and take him along;" but he declined, and the upshot of the matter was, that he agreed to meet me at the Metropolitan that night, and go with me. I told him to keep his tickets, and bring along any friend. But he came alone, and I was glad of it. The play was excellent, and between acts we discussed it. I fancied I had gotten well into his good graces before it was over; and when it was, we walked out, and along Broadway together, and stopped once or twice and "lemonaded." The young man was temperate, as I was glad to find--all the better witness--and before he reached home that night, I managed to find out all about his salary, etc., and had told him that a young man of his parts ought to have a better place. He felt so too, of course; but said it was hard to find, as he had no friends to help him. Unfortunately, he said, all his relatives in New York were of the medium class of people in money matters; and his father, who was a Methodist minister, and had some influence with his people when living, had died some five years before, and these church people had pretty much forgotten them.

I found that, from the latitude the president had given me, I could offer the young man a salary that astonished him. He said he could leave his employer at any time, with one day's notice, for there were calls every day for employment by clerks. Suffice it that in four days from that time I had the young man installed as bookkeeper in a house where he got nearly double his former salary. Besides, in my going about with him, I had fished out facts enough in the career of the broker, his old employer, to convince me that he was all I had taken him for.

Finally, I went back to the president, and told him whom I suspected, and what my evidence was, and that I had not yet said anything to the young man about the bag or about him; and we arranged it that the young man should be invited to his house by me the next night; which was done, and he accompanied me. The president had prepared a room for a private conference, and after I had introduced the young man to the president, and informed him that he, and not I, was his benefactor, to whom the young man expressed his gratitude, I took up a paper from off the table on which I had placed it, and under which I had slyly tucked the bag. I had gotten the young man seated near the table. As I lifted the paper, and noticed the bag with its peculiar mark on it, I said to the president,--

"Beg pardon, Mr. ----, but this singular device excited my curiosity;" and I took up the bag and looked at it. "Allow me to ask what it is."

"O," said he, "it's a sort of private coat of arms. 'Tis a little curious, isn't it?" and he commented on it; and I, as a matter of politeness, passed it to the young man, asking, "Did you ever see anything like it before?"

"No, not that I know of," said he; "and yet there's something familiar to me about this bag," and he turned it over. "No, I never saw this device upon anything!" and he laid it down, and the conversation dropped on that point, and we fell into conversation about his old employer, the amount of his business, his habits, and so forth, and it was easy to see that he had no great respect for him. Finally I led on to the matter of having seen the jolly scrubber there, the woman Sarah, to whom he had given the bag; and finding she proved to be all right, I said to him, "Sarah gave me that bag, and that bag got you your present place, through the kindness of Mr. ---- here."

The young man looked astonished, with a question in his eye, as if asking me to explain----.

"Well, I will explain. You remember one day (fixing the time), that, after office hours, when she came there to scrub, you and she got into a frolic, and threw things at each other?"

"O, yes," said he, "very well; and I hauled the bag out from under the counter, and threw it at her."

"Just so; that's her story too. And now I wish to ask you if you knew how that bag got under the counter?"

"Why, certainly. Mr. ----" (his employer, the broker), "took it out of his pocket a day or two before, and tucked it under there."

"What was his condition that day? that is, what was his health?"

"O, that was one of his nervous days, and he was much excited."

"What did he place this bag with there--what's there?"

"There's a shelf there; and the day I gave it to Sarah, I had been putting some papers there, and pulled it out, and remembered it."

"Then he wouldn't be apt to see it, to remind him of its being there?"

"No, sir, not unless he stooped down to get something there."

It was evident to me, then, how the broker had forgotten it. We managed to make inquiries enough to satisfy ourselves that the broker was much excited at that time, and that he about the same time had made purchase of some building lots in "East New York," on Long Island, for he speculated in real estate somewhat, and was a pretty close man, and "rich enough," as the young man thought.

We had obtained all the evidence we were likely to, and the young man and I left, he being in ignorance of how and to what end we had gotten that bag there. The next step was to get at the broker. We examined into his real estate, and found the young man right in his judgment--the broker was well off. We laid many plans; and he wanted to secure the money, and it wouldn't answer to do things by halves. Our broker was a desperate man, but a nervous one, and I thought the best way was to take the lion by his mane. So, stalking into his office,--I being well armed,--I invited him into his little back room, having placed the president near the office, to come in a minute after me. I engaged the broker in conversation for half a minute, and then suddenly pulling out the bag, asked him (nodding my head towards the other little front room where the new clerk was); and saying, "No noise, unless you are disposed to make it," I asked,--

"Did you ever see that before, sir?"

He reached his hand for it, turning pale.

"No, I never saw it."

"Do you know whose it is?"

"No, I don't," half stammering, but with an air of decision. Luckily, just at this time, the president stalked in.

"Here's a man who will tell you whose it is," said I; and holding it up to the president, I asked, "Whose is this bag?"

"Mine," said he; "but the gold that was taken with it was the ---- Bank's," as he eyed Mr. ----, the broker, sternly; "and you are the man who took it."

"I protest," said the broker, "that I never saw that bag before;" but his manner showed guilt.

"Well," said I, "that's a question of evidence. Excuse me for a moment, and be calm;" and I stepped to the door, and nodded to the old clerk to come in. He came, and the broker's astonishment was evidently great.

"Did you ever see that before? and where did you first see it?" I asked of the clerk.

"In Mr. ----'s" (the broker's) "hands."

"Where did he take it from, and what did he do with it?"

The young man told his simple story; and I told him we would relieve him, and away he went, still ignorant of the theft, but probably wondering what it all meant.

I then said to the broker, "You are most thoroughly caught. That young man is only one of our witnesses, and he does not know of your theft yet. You are surrounded on all sides, and I advise you to send your clerk out on business, and settle up matters here at once. We want the money back, and pay for our time."

There was a momentary struggle in the broker's heart. He was very pale, and his firm set chin quivered for a moment. He evidently took in the whole situation of affairs; but I thought I would not leave him wholly to his unaided reflections, and I remarked, for it was all clear now, of course, how the thing had been done:--

"From the hour that you personated a clerk, and coolly walked behind the desk and took the money, you must understand that you were known--recognized; but we needed further proof to convict you. The bag has supplied that," (and I saw, as I spoke, that a light went over his countenance, as if some purpose of his soul had suddenly changed). "Had we followed you up at once, and found this gold, we could not have identified it; and we have followed you, therefore, with tireless patience, and would have pursued you for a year yet. You see your condition. We do not wish to prosecute you criminally, unless you force us to do so. You may have stolen the money under a pressure, or in some hour of temptation, which would never come again. We want our money and pay for our time, as I have said; and we do not propose to delay at all. Do you understand me?"

The broker quivered for a moment. There was a struggle of pride in his soul which he gratified with an oath, which I will not repeat here, condemning his folly and himself to the "bottomless pit," and then he sank back in his chair, and tears filled his eyes.

"Gentlemen," said he, "I give it up. You are very lenient. That gold has cursed me every day. I was a madman that day. Had been drinking a little. It was only one stout glass of brandy, though, for I seldom touch a drop" (which I know to be true). "I had a month before read a story in a London paper which ---- sent me" (naming a well-known broker of Wall Street, who had gone to Europe on business), "narrating the like exploit of a bold thief. I found myself often thinking of his daring, and that day the fiend got hold of me. It was but the work of a moment. I was near the ---- ---- ---- Bank. I stepped in, and saw many there; stuck my hat in here" (within his vest, a small slouched hat); "and before I knew it, the thing was done. There's my confession. Do with me what you please. I have often resolved to restore the money; but I have as often failed, for fear that somehow I'd get found out."

"Well, we are satisfied," said I; "and all we want is what I have asked."

"Of course it shall be done; but for God's sake you must forgive me, and forever conceal my name, for I never can do such a thing again. I have suffered too much from it."

"The matter has been concealed from everybody except the clerks in the bank, who are pledged to secrecy; not even your own clerk knows that any money has been lost, and nobody but Mr. ----" (the president) "and me has any suspicion of you. We wanted to get the money more than we wanted you."

"I am ready to settle now," said he.

But he had not on hand all the money we wanted; but before two hours were over proper deeds, in due legal form and execution, conveyed to the president, in personal mortgage, at least five times as much as was needed to make up the deficit in cash. This proved the most lucrative job for me which I ever "worked up," and the bank got back all its money, with interest thereon.

It only remains for me to say, that that broker became an "altered man" in some respects. I did not like his countenance, and I did not believe his expressions of penitence fully. There was a dark, bad "streak" in his nature, I thought; but he has committed no more robberies, I suspect, unless they were done in his capacity of member of the Common Council, to which body he was afterwards elected, having left Wall Street, and entered upon other than the broker's business, and turned a ward politician. But let not other thieves, therefore, nourish hope from the example of his good (or bad) fortune.

$1,250,000, OR THE PRIVATE MARK.

MONEY-GETTING AS RELATED TO CRIME--A VERY STRANGE HISTORY--THE MOST WONDROUS PURSUIT OF A MAN BY HIS ENEMY WHICH EVER (PROBABLY) WAS KNOWN IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD--JAMES WILLIAM HUBERT ROGERS AND "NED" HAGUE, TWO ENGLISHMEN--"DAMON AND PYTHIAS" IN EARLY LIFE--A CHANGE COMES--A DEPARTED AND CONSIDERATE UNCLE DESCRIBED, ONCE A PROTEGE OF THE EMPEROR OF AUSTRIA--OLIVER CROMWELL HAGUE, A RICH INDIA MERCHANT--A MARVELOUS SEARCH FOR A LOST MAN--A MAN FOUND AND IDENTIFIED BY NUMEROUS FRIENDS AS THE ONE IN QUESTION--PLOTTING AND COUNTER-PLOTTING--A SHREWD VERMONT "LAWYER" MAKES A THOUSAND POUNDS STERLING--THE INDEFATIGABLE ROGERS COMES TO AMERICA IN HIS SEARCH--LOST IN THE VASTNESS OF THE COUNTRY--WE MEET, AND DEPART FOR ST. LOUIS--TROUBLES, AND AN ENLIGHTENING DREAM--A WICKED LAWYER--THE RIGHT TO REPENT--A SPIRITED COLLOQUY WITH THE LAWYER--AN ENEMY FOUND AND SET TO WORK--THE GRASPING LAWYER OUTWITTED--THE LOST FOUND IN A TERRIBLE CONDITION--A LITTLE PRIVATE FUN OVER THE LAWYER'S DISCOMFITURE--A SHARP EXAMINATION AND CROSS-EXAMINATION--LAWYER OUTWITTED, AND LOSES FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS--MR. ROGERS DEPARTS WITH THE "LOST ONE," BOUND FOR ENGLAND--THE SUDDEN DROWNING OF THE LATTER AT SEA--THE CHERISHED VICTORY OF YEARS VANISHES--OUT, WITH A LAUGH.

The "battle of life" has so many phases, and my own experiences have run in so many channels, and my knowledge of human curiosity is so extensive, and my desire in these papers to gratify the same so great, that I am at a loss, as I turn over my diaries and notes of other histories of the past years to-day, what to select from my notes next; for, whatever disposition my publishers may make of this in the arrangement of these chapters, this is really one of the very last of them all in the order of writing, and one of the very last in point of fact, which I shall ever enlarge from my notes into current narrative. But my notes are so full, that my friends, after I am gone, should they desire to put before the world a supplement of these experiences, will have but little trouble--that, simply, of telling the tales in their own style. But it strikes me that the reader must feel, as he reads, something of the interest I felt as an actor, in part, in the scenes which it narrates.

Of the "battle of life," then, no phase can well be of so much interest to the great majority as that of money-getting. This absorbs everything, and is, in fact, the great source of nine tenths, at least, of all human crimes. But "money-getting," as well as wealth itself, has its "different sides,"--its positive and comparative, I might almost say, negative characteristics. Wealth, in one locality, would be comparative poverty in another; that is, the amount of money which constitutes a man "wealthy" in a far off country town, would be sneered at as a very trifle in this great metropolis, New York; would hardly be enough to support the possessor for a year among the moderate livers of the city, with their luxury and indulgences, which cost so much more than those of the country.