"VM WORTH JUST $600
By Evelyn Nesbitt.
White slavery exists.
I know, because in common with
many other girls I have been face
to face with it more than once.
To the white slavers I am worth
about $600. That's the highest price
they pay" for ordinary girls. Some
fetch more than that
After a while the goods deteriorate,
and, finally, many a white slave is
disposed of to some low dive for $25
The girls don't get any of the
money. The "house" always keeps
them in debt, and if bars aren't ac
tually used to keep the slaves im
prisoned, their debt to the "house"
keeps them "safe."
Pew white slaves are kept in small
er cities. Most of them are shipped
East But the "system" has many of
its recruiting officers everywhere.
And it has several "stations" also.
The police won't be able to tell you
where they are. But go out on the
street about 3 o'clock some morning
and stop two or three men. You
won't have to stop many before you
find one that can tell you where to
find a "station."
I know of one on Spring street. A
short time ago there was one on
Fifth and one on Hill, but they both
have been closed up. They were in
the heart of Los Angeles.
Many ways are used to trap the
slaves. In the old black slavery days
they used to raid the African villages
and drag the people away. The mod
ern slaver isn't quite so bold. But his
methods are effective.
One night when I was sitting in
a respectable restaurant with a
young fellow he ordered beer. He
was smoking a cigar. While the
glasses were standing before him he
tried to direct my attention to a pic
ture. Then be flick,$d. his. cigar ashes in-
TO WHITE SLAVERS"
to one of the goblets and pushed it
But I saw him.
That was all that saved me. Cigar
ashes in beer are as good "knock
out drops" as a clip over the head
with a sandbag.
I was scared. Of course the beer
remained untasted, while he urged
me to drink it up. Then we started
out and he had a taxicab there.
"Get in," was all he said.-
I know something about boxing.
One punch on the side of his head
put him on his knees and then I ran..
He never pursuea, but it seemed
while I ran that I always heard his
footsteps just behind.
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