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New York dispatch. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1863-1899, January 22, 1871, Image 1

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At No. 11 Frankfort street,
A SECOND EDITION, containing the 1 a test n ews
from all quarters, published on SUNDAY MORNING.
The NEW YORK DISPATCH sold by all News
Agents in the city and suburbs at TEN CENTS PER
COPY. All Mail Subscriptions must be paid in advance.
Canada Subscribers must send 25 cents extra, to prepay
American postage.
Hereafter, the terms of (Advertising in the Dispatch
Will be as follows:
WALKS ABOUT TOWN 30 cents per line.
BUSINESS WORLD J.... 20 “ “ "
Under the heading of “Walks About Town” and
•'Business World” the same price will be charged for
each insertion. For Regular Advertisements and “ Spe
cial Notices,” two-thirds of the above prices will be
charged for the second insertion. Regular advertise
ments will be taken by the quarter at the rate ot one dol
lar a line. Special Notices by the quarter wiH be charged
at the rate of one dollar and twenty-five cents per line.
Cuts and fancy display will be charged extra.
Superintendent Kelso’s Cru
sade against the Swindlers.
f When John Jourdan was appointed Superintend
ent of Police, in April last, he set himself to work to
break up certain kinds of swindling that had existed
eo long that the perpetrators, in some instances, had
begun to believe themselves engaged in a reputable
business, and would, perhaps, have been thoroughly
convinced, had it not been for the subsidizing of
officials that they were compelled to submit to, on*
pain of being hounded from place to place, in case
of refusal to comply with the demands of these bar-,
pies in uniform. Many
will remember, we doubt not, a certain Sergeant
Bchoonmaber, formerly of the Broadway squad,
later of the Fifteenth Precinct, who, for a time, car
ried consternation and terror into the ranks of the
blackleg fraternity, by the frequency of his raids,
and the success that attended them. How many lit
tle games of “ faro,” “ bluff,” and “ keno” were sud
denly broken up, the players made prisoners and
marched oft to cells for the night, and the gaming
implements and furniture seized and carried away
by the doughty sergeant and the police under his
command. But, one fine day,
Ho had gone without even wishing the PoliceUom
missioners good-by, or sending in his resignation.
And then damaging stories began to be whispered
around. An abandoned wife made her appearance,
and declared that for months previous she had re
ceived from her husband scarce sufficient to keep
fioui and body together. It was alleged that
had accompanied the sergeant in his flight. The
keepers of various gambling houses began to com
pare notes, and, allowing that they spoke the truth,
(and they would have no reason to lie about the mat
ter), it was wonderful how completely he had “beat”
the crowd. By throats of “pulling” their places, he
had succeeded, according to their statements, in ex
torting irom them
in tne aggregate. Representations of what he was
engaged in doing were made to Superinteddent Ken
nedy, but so convinced was he that the sergeant was
honest and doing a good work by breaking up tnese
places, that he refused to believe the allegations
made against the sergeant, coming as they did from
interested parties, and who would be only too glad to
cee him disgraced. There is no question but that
bad he possessed fhe nerve, Sergeant Schoonmaker
might have continued bis work for months longer,
and obtained treble the sum generally credited to
him by his operations, m what, in Wall street par
lance, would be termed “milking the street.”
Nor was he alone in this system of extortion. A
certain captain of police, of u down-town precinct,
. Charged with levying contributions
on the liquor dealers of his precinct—this was dur
ing the early days of the Excise Law—and with ex
acting a percentage of the receipts of the keepers of
bazaars, or gift jewelry swindlers.
Exactly when this bazaar business came into being
is a question that is difficult to answer. It is sup
posed to have followed close after the mock auction
business was broken up. Certain it is that many of
those formerly*engaged in the mock auction busi
ness drilled naturally into
when the former was no longer available, and their
xopers-in were the former mock-bidders.
The game was simple enough. The victim, a
countryman, was lured into the bazaar by a confed
erate. Once inside, he found himself in a room,
containing what seemed a very handsome collection
of silverware, and a show-case, in which were watch
es, apparently of gold and silver, and a collection of
jewelry of various descriptions, together with a box
of envelopes. The silverware was of the cheapest
thinnest kind of plated ware, and the jewelry was
pinchbeck. They all bore numbers, and these were
eupposed to correspond with numbers in the en
velopes mentioned. The victim was first induced to
invest his money in chances tor jewelry and plated
ware, and when he had invested so much as he
thought prudent in this manner, or had become dis
gusted with his lack of success in drawing anything
more valuable than a pair of sleeve-buttons that he
could buy of any peripatetic vender for five cents, or
b washed ring for ten cents, his cupidity is excited
by seeing one hundred dollars
and he is told that for one dollar he can have a
chance at that. The bait generally takes, and the
victim is surprised at the number oi times he comes
within one or two of the lucky number. Of course he
never obtains it, for the very simple reason that the
envelope containing the’ money is never placed in
the box he draws from. If he tires of this, oefore his
money is gone, he is initiated into the
and is generally completely cleaned out at this game.
It is wonderful how completely infatuated a country
man becomes when in the hands of these sharpers.
He seems to lose ail the common sense and prudence
he may have possessed at the outset. He just
•nd it is raked in by these sharpers with scarce an
effort on their part to conceal thes peculiar mode
by which they are so bare-facediy swindling him.
Bhouid common sense return to the victim when’ms
money has departed, and he should demand a return
of what he had been swindled out of, he would be
laughed at, and should be become noisy would be
thrown into the street, after being roughly handled
by the proprietor and his satellites.
The majority of the seplaces were in Courtlandt
street, on the line ot travel from the Jersey City Fer
ry, in order to catch the travelers from New Jersey
and those coming from the West by the Pennsyl
vania Central and New Jersey Central Rail
roads ; along West street, having an eye to
emigrants just landed, or those irom the in
terior about to revist the old country ; in Cham
bers street, on the line of travel ot those coming by
the Erie Railroad ; in Chatham street, the great cen
tral artery through which courses so mucti iravel
from up and down town, morning and evening :
along Front street, and even in Broadway itself.
It was this bazaar business that Superintendent
Jourdan determined on breaking up, and in his
usual energetic way he proposed to mane short work
of it. He directed each captain cf police to furnish
him tho names of the proprietors, and the .ocalities
of the bazaars in their respective precincts. He then
directed that an officer be placed in front of each of
these places, with directions to warn all persons who
might attempt to enter of the character of the plqce.
The plan was found to answer admirably. One by
one, the proprietors, finding that their business was
being effectually driven away, concluded to Seek
“fresh fields and pastures new,” where they could
pursue their calling unmolested. Not without a
protest, however, was this done. Anathemas loud
and deep, were hurled by the rascals at the sentries,
who stood hour after hour in front of their doors,
and warned off the buzzing fiiee from the web.
Which, as the lamented President Lincoln used to
say, reminds us of
In front of one of these places in Courtlandt
street, was posted * cool, dry old patrolman, who re
ceived with the most undisturbed equanimity the
curses that were plentifully showered upon his of
fending head every time he warned away a person
who might stop, attracted by the glitter of the ware
so conspicuously displayed in the window and in the
small show case outside. One day the proprietor
was even more wrathy than usual. A pecu iarly
promising customer had been turned away, one,
who, if his personal appearance counted for any
thing, would have been good for two hundred or
three hundred dollars—
apparently—one of the kind who believe they are up
to all kind of “ ways that are dark, and tricks that
are vain,” and are therefore the more easily gulled.
The proprietor, safe in his den, hurled a variety of
epithets at the officer, and finally wound up with:
“ Why, you d—d sucker, what right have you to
turn people away from here? I pay taxes. I help
to support you, you d—d lazy hound. I help to pay
the salary you receive every month.
In the coolest, most impertubable manner the
officer replied: ■
“ Well, I don’t know any one who has a better
right to help to pay for my services. You have them
the greater uart of the time.”
feo appalled was the proprietor at this unlooked for
reply, that he could make no suitable answer, and he
therefore took refuge in indriscrim inate profanity,
which bubbled forth at intervals during the remain
der of the day.
The tactics of the Superintendent were successful
in the main. One after another the places on Broad
way succumbed. The sorrowful owners put up their
shutters and stole away. Their brethren in Chat
ham, Courtlandt and West streets spon began to fol
low their exampJe, and there was a strong probabil
ity that the entire race would be cleaned out of the
city. Unfortunately, before the work was entirely
accomplished, Superintendent Jourdan died.
It was some time before a successor was appointed,
and in the confusion and lack of detail that necessa
rily followed for a time the demise of Superintend
ent Jourdan, the evil again became rampant. The
thieves who had fled, returned, and resumed opera
tions even bolder than ever. Countrymen were
. fleeced without mercy. It was no unusual tiling for
some of the scoundrels who were engaged in run
ninjl' these establishments to make from two hun
dred to three hundred dollars a day. Complaints
were made at the various station-houses almost daily
by the victims.
were made, but the swindlers managed to compro
mise the matter in some way, either by refunding a
portion of the proceeds of the swindle to the victim,
witn the proviso that he leave town, or by a prudent
disbursement in ' another direction. Either one ac
complished the end sought, and the swindler was
once more free to pursue his calling.
Soon after Superintendent Kelso had become fairly
settled in his office, subsequent to his appointment,
and had time to look around him, this bazaar swind
, ling struck him as one ot the most glaring evils he
had to contend with. He had been intimate with
Jourdan, and knew the purnoses and intentions of
the latter, and while not agreeing with him in all his
views, he resolved to carry out his design in this
One of the most noted of these swindlers is
Richard Hurley, keeping a sailors’ and emigrant
boarding-house at No. 76 Courtlandt street. There
is a liquor store on the first floor. In the rear of the
place is a screen, and behind this was the envelope
case. The victim was induced to enter the place
under the pretense of taking a drink, and was after
ward taken behind the screen and shown the mys
teries of the envelope game. This place gave more
trouble than any ot the others. Hurley endeavored
to prove to the police that he should not be held re
sponsible for the swindling carried on behind the
screen, claiming that lie merely rented that portion
of the room to the parties engaged m running the
concern, but the excuse was too “thin.”
Another one of this gudgeon gang was
so called from an impediment in his powers of loco
motion, the effect of a disease contracted through
his own indiscretion. He ran an establishment at
No. 109 West street, and, to use his own expressive
phraseology, “ laid for Jersey suckers that came
, over on the Courtlandt street Ferry, or them Down
. Easters, as was going to take the Sound boats, and
that thinks themselves so almighty smart tnat no
one can come it over them.”
Next door, at No. 111, was the establishment of
an individual whom, to judge from his physiog
nomy, nothing but the fear ot state Prison kept from
being an accomplished sneak thief. Low cunning
and deceit were his most marked characteristics.
and a small gang of confederates were to be found at
No. 144 Liberty street. Jimmy was formerly in
Chatham street, was driven from there by Jourdan,
when Captain of the Sixth Precinct, was afterward in
Broadway, and finally drifted to the above location,
believing it more profitable to prey on countrymen
on their way to and from the city, than to chance
catching them in the heart of the city.
a Brooklyn shoulder-hitter, held forth in West stfeet,
near Chambers.
or “Slippery Tom,” as he was more generally
known, kept at Nd. 67 Vesey street.
Two individual)?, wbG S4 s g koown to fame and the
police by the cognomens of
lay in wait at No. 259 West street, near Laight.
Their reign was short, however. Two days sufficed
to convince them that they had struck the wrong
precinct, and at the end of two days they pulled up
stakes and left.
were in Desbrosses street, near the ferry. There
were one or two others in West street, above Canal;
but their operations never amounted to much, for
the reason that there is scarcely any travel in that,
neighborhood of the kind that would net them cus
Before the door of every place that was reported to
him, Superintendent Kelso posted an officer, with in
structions similar to those formerly given. The
greater portion of the swindlers gave in at once, and,
closing their places, virtually acknowledged them
selves beaten out of the field.
Some, however, held out, and chief among these
was Hurley. As his place was a liquor saloon aud
boarding-house, the officers experienced consider
able trouble in their task of warning persons about
to enter, and occasionally neglected their duty in
this respect. The sharpers were keen enough to
send their victim into the saloon, and would them
selves follow soon afterward. They were brought up
with a round turn eventually, however.
A respectable colored man, a resident of one of the
interior towns of New Jersey, was decoyed into the
place, and swindled out,of one hundred dollars. He
made complaint at the Church street police-station,
and Thomas Wilson, who had charge of the envelope
case, was arrested. By order of Superintendent
Kelso, charges -were preferred against the officer
through whose carelessness or culpability the victim
was allowed to be roped in. It could not be proved
that the officer was in league with the thieves, so the
Commissioners fined him ten days’ pay, equal to
something over S3O. Another officer, for a similar
offense, was fined the same amount. Tais had the
effect of rendering the force doubly vigilant, and
no more cases were reported. One week ago, Wilson
and his confederate were sentenced to six months
each in the Penitentiary, and to pay fifty dollars fine,
they to remain in durance until tne fine is paid.
This sentence had the effect of bringing Hurley, the
proprietor of the liquor store or saloon, to terms.
He visited Superintendent Kelso, a day or two* ago,
a.nd promised, if the officer was removed from in
front of his place, he would hereafter pursue a
square and legitimate business. His request was
accordingly complied with.
One after another, these parasites who prey on the
life-blood of the unsuspecting and guileless portion
of the public, are being driven from the practice of
their nefarious calling. It is safe to assert that with
in a comparatively short period of time there will be
scarcely one of the scoundrels left.
The owners of the buildings occupied by these
rascals are nearly as culpable as the latter, for they
know the kind of business carried on in their prem
ises; yet, so long as the tenants pay their rent in ad
vance, they are satisfied. Landlords are, in the
main, a grasping, griping set. The premises in which
are located some of the very worst dens of Greene
street, are owned by men who claim to be good citi
zens, and some of the worst basement dives in Cen
tre street are owned by a man who, a few years ago,
set himself up as a model of propriety, and gave him
self out as au iutended reformer of the City Govern
ment. For a small room in West street, about six
‘eet by Dine, Baker paid $l5O rental per month—
nearly three times the amount it would fetch were it
occupied for any ordinary business. And the same
proportion was paid by the other swindlers for the
premises occupied by them. Oi course, there is no
means of rescuing these parties by the strong arm of
tho law. Public opinion alone can punish them. It
would serve these sordid,.soulless property-owners
well right were their names blazoned forth to tho
Four Men Weighing Over 2,000 Pounds.
Four men that Weigh but 308 Pounds.
A few years ago, this city boasted a set of as ge
nial, jovial, pleasant fellows as ever drank to the
light of a blue, black, gray or hazel eye, or flourished
in the festive dance or song, or drowsed away the
dull hours with fishing line in hand. A number of
them formed themselves into a social club, under
the congenial and expressive title of •
. Some of the members were politicians, not men
who depended on politics for a living, but who en
gaged in politics through love of the excitement at
tendant on elections; and |the great mass were busi
ness men. The club flourished for several years,
and would have been still in existence, but that the
friends of the members discovered their weak side—
too much good nature—and imposed upon, and bled,
and abused their hospitality to such an extent that
the club, in self-defense, was compelled to change
from Clever Fellows into Indian warriors, and with
the tomahawk it lopped off the rotten branches, and
with the war club brained the vampires that were
sucking away its life blood. Having dug up the
tomahawk and buried the calumet of peace—in the
shape of one box of Rappahannocks—the tribe reor
ganized, appointed new chiefs, and returned to the
name which its ancestors had borne—
This change of name took place in January, 1868,
and the chieftains selected to lead the warriors to
battle against the potent power of»the Alquoholians,
the Quornbeefians, the Petticoattas, and the other
tribes with which the Manahattas might be at war,
were: Robert Beatty, President; Robert McGinnis
aud Theodore Russell, Vice Preßidents; P. Kinney,
Secretary; and Jas. A. Flack, Treasurer. The com
mittee to which was delegated the task of selecting
locations for the wigwams and hunting-grounds,
after many appeals to the Great Spirit, and consulta
tions with the big medicine man, Firewater, choose
Tottenville, Staten Island, as the happy hunting
ground. The site of the wigwams is opposite that
ancient, sleepy city of the pale-faces, Perth Amboy,
and looKs upon the bright waters of the Kill von
Kull. It includes an area of about ten acres, while
the hunting-grounds take in the whole surrounding
country. The urincipal game of the neighborhood
is that beautiful and sportive animal, the Grass
Widow. Frank Weiler is chief of the young war
riors who supply the camp with game.
have most convenient locations. They lie within
convenient reach of the metropolis, so that the war
riors who scalp in Will street, founder in Centre,
bind in Spruce and William, drink in Third avenue,
or sit in judgment in the halls of the blind-tolded
goddess, can be in the city in the morning at busi
ness hours and return to the wigwams of the tribe
m ihe evening.
Since the club has occupied the grounds on Staten
Island it has altered the old tarm-house into a con
venient kitchen and dining-room, and put up a new
building coutaining reception rooms and sleeping
apartments. In addition, there are boat-houses,
flbats, docks, and all the appliances which the civil
ized Indians find -necessary to the enjoyment of fish
ing and hunting. The club owns several yachts and
boats, beside those owned by innividual members.
lasts from July 1 to the 12th or 15th of September,
and during those happy moons the club keeps open
wigwams, and heartily welcomes ail who visit them
on peace and fun intent—though the njembers never
drink (more than they can carry), a sober face is sel
dom seen in the wigwams of the Manahattas. Sad
to relate, at this happy season, the hotels in the vi
cinity are constantly tilled. A bed can’t be procured
for love—sometimes it is for money. The squaws of
the tribe take the rooms early in the season. They
don’t doubt the loyalty of their chiefs, but they go
down to enjoy the sport of hunting the Grass Widow.
and kin'dred sports, the days pass pleasantly away,
and in the evenings the gentlemen who are lighter
iu the heels thap the head attend hops at the houses
of the surrounding gentry. As may readily Le ima
giped, the club is uoauimously voted a good thiug
by those who believe in relaxation—who, with Gra
tiano, say: .
. , . . “ Let me play the fool:
With purth aud laughter let old wrinkles come,
Anu let my liver rather heat with wine
Than my heart cool with mortifying groans.
Why should a man, whose blood is warm within,
Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster ?
Sleep when lie wakes, and creep into the jaundice
By being peevish.”
is entitled to five cards of invitation each season. The
invited can receive the hospitalities of the club for
two days and nights, and no longer—provided they
listen to Jimmy Flack’s long stories, aud bear with
becoming equanimity Capt. J. H. Toone’s rigid si
lence. By the unanimous consent of the club, addi
tional invitatioiJß may be issued to a limited nnmcer
of guests, and for such invitation the members re
ceiving them pay $2 a day. Members are expected
to present their invitations to different persons, so
that one guest shall receive but a single card; and
they are, also, required to report to the supervisory
committee the names of the guests they have in
vited or intend inviting, and these names are en
tered in a book in the sitting-room, in order that
duplicate invitations may not be sent. Every first
and third Wednesday in each month is the
visiting day, when the grounds and houses are
decked in their gayest holiday rig, and the members
all appear in clean faces, patent leather boots, nan
keoen trowsers, biue coats with brass buttons, and
their hair curled. J?here are some members who
never miss ladies Among these are George
Jeffreys, Jimmy Flack, Ike. Conover, and Aiderman
Griffiths. Buc Jeffreys and F.ack are the gentieman
whom the ladies favor above ail others. Tney are
both tall and slim, and in the dizzy mazes of the
waltz, or the stately paces of the quadrille, they are
grace itself. And in the pauses of the dance, while
the music is playing low and sweet, they whisper in
the ears of their fair partners the most delightful of
compliments. One lady was heard to say, in con
versation with a lady iriend, when on their way
home after a day’s pleasure with the Manahattas:
“Well, that Jeffreys is the nicest, dearest fellow I
ever met. He dances with all the eiegance oi a bal
let master, and talk as tenderly as though ne were
the God of Love himself.” The other replied :
“ Yes, he is a nice fellow; but he cant’t be compared
to Flack. Did you ever see such elegance and grace
in the dance? He is the very poetry of motion.
And then his conversational powers—he is eloquent,
witty, and humorous. If I weren’t married, I’d fall
dead in love with him.” This led to quite a spirited
debate as to the respective merits of me gentlemen,
which hadn’t come to a conclusion when the ladies
No women or children are permitted to remain
over night within the encampment, and
except on the regular visiting days for ladies and
children. A wise precaution, considering the annoy
ance tbat “hobbledehoys, neither men nor boys,”
invariably occasion. *
on the part of any oi the members is not permitted.
Several attempts have been made to expel William
C. Conner for his boisterous laughter. He has even
so far forgotten himself on a few occasions as to
laugh at one of Bob McGinnis’s funny stories—a
perversion of all good judgment so base that the
members have determined that if it occurs again, to
expel him on the spot. Defacing or destroying any
lot the property ot the club (even changing the color
of a fellow-member’s eye), and making unnecessary
noise, or causing annoyance to Sleeping members
[Gus Smalley, the champion snorer, has a room in
an isolated wing of the building], between the hours
of 11 o’clock P. M. and 6 A. M., are punishable with
fines or expulsion.
If there is anything on’which the members pride
themselves above all other things, it is u regard lor
Consequently no member is allowed to bathe within
one hundred yards of the club house, unless he is
habited in bathing clothes. This ru.e is enforced
with stern impartiality, and all guilty of the offense
are fined $5 each and every time it is committed.
doesn’t in the least resemble that of tho Georgia
major, but consists oi blue flannel pants and sbiit
Ratios anlr Juhpnhat
[any member issuing from his room without a shirt
is liable to expulsion], and low-crowned straw bat.
Each member is expected to appear in uniform [or
some other dress] when on the club grounds.
The initiation fee is S3O, and the annual dues S6O.
Should the amount in the treasury at any time be
insufficient to meet the expenses of the club for the
season, each member must come down with an equal
amount to pay the indebtedness.
are: Robert Beatty, president, who has been re
elected oaclj successive year; Robert McGinnis, first
vice-president; Joseph King, second vice-president;
W. A. Smalley, secretary; A. T. Docharty, assistant
secretary; James A. Flack, treasurer; and H. Mc-
Farlan, Isaac B. Conover, A. Campbell, E- Balch, and
F. M. Weiler, trustees.
are business men, and, in general, successful. Tfle
causes of their success are good-nature and leaving
the business of their neighbors alone. Among the
most prominent members are the following:
Robert Beatty, a bookbinder, of Spruce street.
When Mr. Beatty joined the club he was as portly a
gentleman as sat down at Storm & Leggett’s tables.
He is now worn to a skeleton. It is all owing to the
apparent solemnity with which he listens to the
. funny stories of Bob McGinnis and Jimmy Flack.
He enjoys the jo::es inwardly. His s%ase ot the dig
nity of the position he occupies vton’t permit him to
give outward signs of mirthful levity. He weighs
but 72 poun'ds.
William C. Conner, the type-founder. This
gentleman has also been wasting away. The cause is
unknown. Some say it is owing to the fact that his
fellow-members won’t stand his hilarity; others have
it that it is grief caused by gazing at the grim, silent,
speechless xace ot his old iriend, Captain Toone. He
weighs 77 pounds.
George Jeffreys, machinist. He, too, has fallen
away. His loss of flesh is probably owing to his de
votions to the fair sex and terpsichore. He weighs
78 pounds.
Theodore Russell, printer, corner of Centre and
Duane streets. Mr. Russell is the heaviest of the
four who are known as the “ skeleton phalanx.” Ho
weighs 81’pounds. His loss of flesh is said to be
owing to his gold spectacles, which keep him from
proper rest, in his efforts to maintain their equilib
rium on the bridge of his nose.
Frank Weiler, the press-maker, is the heaviest
member of the club. A few years since he was thin
and spare; but his hunting on the grounds of the
Manahattas has given him such an appetite that his
fellow-members think there will be a famine on that
part of the island some day. He weighs 675 pounds
Robert McGinnis, ex-Alderman and royal good fel
low, is another of the heavy weights. He turns the
beam at 532 pounds. His increase of flesh is owing
to his good nature. He was never known to be angry
but once, and that was when he found George Boni
face weeping at the recital of one of his funniest
D. W. Bruce, the type-founder, of Duane.street, is
another of the heavy weights. His lightest figure is
483 pounds. He holds the position iu the club of
Colonel of the Broom Guard. He is immense on
sweeping away cobwebs—from the throat. *
Isaac B. Conover is the last of the extremely fat
men. He weighs 478 pounds. He is acknowledged
the best judge of good liquor in the club. These
lour fat men were denied admission to the Fat Men’s
Club, as the members teared that no room in the city
could be.found sufficiently strong to bear their com
bined weight.
J. King, Vice-President, a fit candidate for any
office in the gift ot the people; Joseph H. Toone, the
most silent man of the club, and the ablest navigator
—he is, in fact, the only member who knows the dif
ference between a top-royal gall and a reefed mar
lingspike; W r . A. Smalley, who, although the nattiest
man in the club, is the champion snorer—he could
give points to an insane Calliope, and then beat it;
J. Laird, a modest and retiring heavy weight, but a
sloop-load of oysters would be unsafe in his vicinity;
O. Moran, another feather weight—about 105; J.
Collyer, heavy weight, and the club’s beef inspector;
J. R. Pell is the jocund Bacchus of the club; J. C.
Pinckney, the best swordsman and most profound
financier in the country ; James A. Flack, Treas
urer, «a good man to keep money—is the only rival
of George Jeffreys in grace aud elaganee, and far bis
superior in story telling; A. Bedell, light weight,
about 110 pounds, J. P. Kennedy, the champion
barrel tapper, and unconquered elbow-crooker;
J. N. Rose, Charles Cox, J. M. Miller, and
J. Noon, being from the wilds of New Jer
sey, but little is known of their antecedents;
J. Griffiths, ex-Aiderman, the Sir Isaac Walton of
the c üb, when asked where are the best fishing
grounds, be invariably answers, “I Know Nothing
about them;” J. Kennedy, Frank Weiler’s omy rival
as a hunter; J. D. Taylor, artist in water colors—ex
cept in his liquor, wiiicn he never mixes; G. C.
Boniface, the Methuselah of the emb, and the most
successful fisherman —he caught on one occasion a
monster “killy;” B. Maloney, the noisiest man in
the club; Wm. H. Quincy, who would have written
Chesterfield's work on manners if Chesterfield
hadn’t unhappily been born first; J. McDonnel,
heavy weight and “ancillary” iriend ot Smalley—the
only man who thinks Sma.ley’s snoring “isn’t so
very bad;” and A. Campbell, the champion maker
and eater of fishballs—an A No. 1 judge of codfish,
potatoes, onions, and that necessary article ot food,
bourbon whisky. His judgment is never appealed
from in matters of esthetic eating and drinking.
The above are but a few of the many memoers of
this club of real jovial, social, genial gentlemen. If
our readers receive an invitation to visit the wigwams
of the Manahattas, we advise them to go. If they
don’t enjoy themselves, they’ll be the first who
came away dissatisfied. We’ve been there, and have
dim recollections of aches in the side from laughing,
aud pains in the head, from—well, not from laughing.
His Antecedents and Op
Hank Hall Hie Counterfeiter
Felker’s Attempt to Discover the
Murderer ofthe Joyce Children.
Claims to lutluence the Govern
or of Pennsylvania.
Robbery of the Lime Rock Bank.
The career of a man continually walking on the
outer verge of the precipice of crime, touching it
gingerly when it suits his purpose so to do, and yet •
making the hideous pretense of being a detector of
criminals, is fraught with far more thrilling interest
than that of him who draws no line of demarcation, •
but plunges into the full abyss, and lets society un
derstand his status at once.
Recent developments in criminal life have drawn ,
the public eye to
who has made some pretensions to being a detective
officer in that city, but who has become so entangled
in the meshes ot crime, as to have more than once
felt the iron hand of the officer of the law upon him
with crushing weight and unmistakable import.
Ever ready to defeat the ends of justice and destroy
the evidences of a scoundrel’s guilt for a price, he
was a fit associate for the Reno gang, whoso extradi
tion and bringing back to Indiana he is said to have
fought with a desperation that gives full color to the
assertion that he was one of their full-fledged confed
erates. The Renos, it will be remembered, were ar
rested for robbing the Adams’ Express, in 1866.
This crime was the culmination of a long series of
depredations committed by them, and was of so
bold and daring a character as to
for miles around. The thieves were caught and
hung like dogs, as they deserved. It was evident
that they had who worked under a garb
of semi-respectability. Some one had been lurking
about the office of the Adams’ Express Company just
previous to the robbery, to ascertain when valuables
of a sufficient amount would ce shipped to warrant
the risk ot an attempt at the robbery; and the de
scription of this man corresponded with that of
Felker. He was about six feet in bight, stout built,
and in other particulars filled the measure. Felker’s
sudden turning up to tfie rescue ot the gang, aud
the receiving of a number of bonds stolen on that
• occasion, under nrelen/j© of helping the thieves out
t of their trouble, are evidences that point most aig
. nificantly in one direction.
in 1865, was so far traced to Felker ae to lead to his
s being arrested and put in irons for the offense, and it
[ cost him no inconsiderable sum before he could free
himself from the difficulties and embarrassments
which this case threw around him. His remarkable
exertions in the Hank Hall case will not be forgotten
by the United States detectives at that time em
ployed in the Secret Service Bureau, under the no
torious Bill Wood, Felker’s boon companion. War
rants were out for Hall several months belore his gr
rest, for manufacturing and dealing in the one hun
dred dollar compound interest notes. No sooner
w ouid the officers get wind of Hank’s whereabouts,
and report the same to Wood, than they would- see
the burly form oi Felker looming, up, and
Hank, however, steadily refused io be bled. He
told Felker he was in no trouble that it would pay
him to advance money to gel out of; and his arrest
and committal in default of thirty thousand dollars’
bail followed almost immediately thereafter. In
tnis case Felker said to one of the secret service
men, “If you get Hank, there is a big thing in it.
You can’t take money, you know, but I can, and we
can both make a good thing of it.” But there was
no good thing made until Hall subsequently turned
up in Chicago to do a little business, when he was
met by Felker, who soon ascertained what Hank was
after, and- watched his operations closely. The le
suit was that Hank left Chicago with his pockets
cleaned ot several thousands of dollars in round
numbers. Feiker next came to New York, and in
stituted measures for
making Earle’s Hotel his headquarters, and reaching
out in all directions lor susceptible victims. One
case, had it culminated, would have sent him to the
Penitentiary. In this case he declared he had the
“ dead wood,” or direct evidence, that would convict
a certain liquor and cigar dealer in this city of a
crime; but that, for the sum of five hundred dollars,
he would produce the evidence and bum it in the
presence of the alleged guilty party. The man to
whom this proposition was made appeared to acqui
esce in the scheme in order to arrive at the details,
but was astounded at Felker’s boldness in offering so
openly to take a bribe, and thus assist in defrauding
justice, and so expressed himself. Felker replied,
you understand, and it don’t make any difference to
me which way it comes.” He was then told to go
ahead, but be sure he was right, for if he was caugut
foul, “nothing top of the whole earth could save
him.” Things began to look a little mixed to the
would-be blackmailer, and finding he had struck the
wrong man, he took his head out of the noose and
abandoned the effort.
His alleged connection with the attempt to ferret
in Roxbury, Mass., a few years since, is still fresh in
the minds of the police of Boston. Two children of
the name of Joyce, noted for their beauty and art
lessness, were .inveigled into the woods a short dis
tance from Roxbury, and there murdered. Large
rewards were offered by the parents and the police
authorities for the discovery of the murderer. This
was an opportunity for Felker, and was seized upon
with avidity; and it is said that, by working upon
the sympathies of the heartbroken parents, he actu
ally succeeded in receiving from them a large Bum
of money, under pretense that it was necessary to be
used in getting at the murderer, when it was evi
dent that he knew no more’about it than he does
about the murder of Mr. Benjamin Nathan.
His pretense that he could influence the Governor
of Pennsylvania, and thus procure
who was convicted of robbing the Clearfield (Penn.)
Bank, was sufficient to induce Mrs. L. Moine to pay
him about $3,000 for his services; but when the
fraud became apparent, he was indicted for the
offense, and only escaped punishment by settling the
affair pecuniarily with the injured wife.
'lheh came the Charley Adams trouble. Adams
was convicted at Belfast, Maine, on the charge of
robbing the Lime Rock Bank, in that State. Three
thousand dollars ware put up to rescue him from the
Maine authorities; but this was a job Felker could
not accomplish, and his old friend and associate,
Wood had a splendid education for such business.
He had been keeper of the old Capitol prison, at
Washington, at a lime when this place was considered
the most fearful prison to which a human being could
be consigned. It was Wood’s boast that he obeyed
orders; but, as he gave many oi’these latter himself,
it is hardly to be wondered at. Wood entered into
the scheme to release Adams with alacrity, and
made strenuous endeavors to have him brought to
New York, under the pretense that he was a material
witness for the Government in the 7-30 bond case.
He had trequent interviews with Adams’ father-in
law, and the thing was beautifully “set to music;”
but the orgah refused to grind out the required tune,
and the whole scheme fell through.
Bill Brockway, who had been charged with having
some connection with these bonds, but who had
steadily refused, although rich, to be bled by Felker
or Wood, was the next object through whom it was
thought a handsome sum could be realized; but, as
he persistently refused to come down, the threat to
arrest him was actually carried out, and he was
placed in duress. His examination and discharge
before a United States Commissioner is a matter of
too recent occurrence to be commented upon. It is
sufficient that the designs upon Brockway failed
without the smallest lump of “sugar” having been
obtained from him, other source, to sweeten
the bitterness of the failure.
the well-known detective of the Northwest, at De
troit, Michigan, has openly been charged against
him by George Barry, the assassin. Barry made a
confession, stating that he was instigated to the job
by Felker, who furnished him with money to carry
out his wicked designs, and a revolver with which to
execute his bloody purpose. Pinkerton had ren
dered himself highly obnoxious , to Felker for his
persistency in pursuing the very men Felker was
anxious to protect, as well as for his unswerving in
tegrity in bringing every guilty person to punish
ment whom he discovered in the commission of
crimes. Pinkerton’s persistency in following the
Reno gang was the hair that broke the camel’s back,
and it was decided that he must be put away. His
assassination was accordingly fixed upon, and Barry
was selected to carry out the programme. Fortun
ately for society and the interests of public justice,
the scheme failed.
and twice escaped; but was finally arrested the third
time, and made the confession implicating Felker.
For this Felker was indicted,, and a long and tedious
trial ensued, in which Spence Pettis had an unseen
but potent hand. Enough evidence of a conflicting
nature was produced before the jury to throw a
doubt into the minds of some of them, and their la
bors resulted in a disagreement. Failing health on
the part of Mr. Pinkerton was the cause of the mat
ter not being followed still further.
With Feffier’s last exploj. t
the public are already familiar. With that pre
sumptuous egotism common to an improperly edu
cated mind, with no cardinal principles to guide and
direct, he supposed he could gull such men as Super
intendent Kelso and Judges Dowling and Cardoza.
Judge Dowling read Felker’s history from his face
as readily as if it had been transcribed before him
on tablets of steel, and knew in a moment the char
acter of the man with whom he was dealing; and he ‘
endeavored to impress upon his mind that he was
not doing business with “kids” or boys, novices in ,
the way oi criminals and blackmailers, but with men
who had grown up to the business of meeting crime ,
in all its forms, and suppressing it, and who would ,
if he attempted to delude them. This is why the
five hundred dollars was returned to Judge Cardoza, i
Felker knew he was talking to men to whom the dis- <
covery of the Nathan murderer was far more im
portant than and the flimsy pretence that i
he would not give the information because he could i
not get all the reward, was too thin for a moment’s i
consideration. If Feiker possessed any such infor
mation, his refusal to give it under any pretext ,
whatever, places him in the light of j
one who knows the perpetrator oi a crime, and re
fuses to hand him over to justice; not an enviable ,
position considering the determined men who have (
been looking at Felker’s case in this phase, and now
have the matter under serious advisement. The ,
above is no web of idle tales woven together to make j
a sensation. • The warp and woof of the fabric are j
true, and serve to disclose the fact as before said, (
that there are men w&lking on the outer verge of the j
precipices of crime, ever standing between out
raged justice and the violator of the law for a price, ,
and not hesitating themselves to lend the helping
hand in the actual perpetration of crime itself.
EOzmmsszagzasaiEJCT ■rrrw.'i <
“ Truth crushed to earth will rise I
again —you ean’t stop her,” as Artemus Ward J
used to say. We have at last ascertained why (
it is that there has been such a small increase 1
in the population of Philadelphia. The census
takers are not to blame; they made correct ‘
returns, and, strange to say, through their in- J
strumentality the true explanation is made ,
possible. It is asserted that there are over (
seventy-four thousand doctors in the United ]
States ! That is the item which tells the whole t
story. That is why the population of our large <
cities is kept down, and prevented from rising ]
to its natural proportions. If physicians and 1
young drug clerks had been checked in their
wild careers, and their butcheries suppressed, 1
Philadelphia would now have over a million *
inhabitants. It is only by a special mercy that j
we are spared to write and ponder over these ]
fearful statistics of slaughter.
, How “great oaks from little acorns grow,” we
have few more marked and notable examples than is
furnished by Brooklyn.
within the memory of many people etill living, is
easily told. What it is at the present time we propoae,
concisely but comprehensively, to show in thia
article. What it may be at acme not far distant day,
the reader can as readily imagine and prognosticate
as ourselves. Brooklyn, no more than thia great
metropolis of the New World, or any other of the great
cities of America, can reasonably be expected to
come to a standstill, or experience retrogression, for
a century to come. In the very mutation of things,
their movements must be onward. It is right, then,
we think, that in contemplating “our sister city
over the river,” we should consider truthfully and
without prejudice
Who will hesitate to acknowledge It a splendid
city, transformed within a century from an insignifi
cant Dutch village into metropolitan importance,
with strong claims to admiration? Such itiinmis
takably is; and to show so much, we will endeavor
briefly to point out at least a few of Its attractions,
which we think have heretofore beep overlooked,
and in the hope that it will interest many readers,
and perhaps subserve other useful ends.
not much more than half an ordinary lifetime, had
a population pf eight thousand inhabitants, un
marked by any noteworthy characteristics. Now
Brooklyn has a population distinguished for public
spirit, social excellence, and good morals, and en
joys a world-wide celebrity as the “ City of
Churches.” Its rapid rise and progress may be con
sidered as dating from the year 1855, when an act of
consolidation annexed the city of Williamsburgh and
the town of Bush wick. At that time the population
of the consolidated city was two hundred thousand
now it is over four hundred thousand, according to
•the last census. It has
which are subdivided into 250,000 lots, and the city
is nearly six miles in length, and of an average
breadth of from two to five miles, and possesses a
water front some eight miles long, which gives abun
dant maritime and transportation facilities, and all
the essentials apd characteristics of social, commer
cial, and industrial greatness.
ih considered a fair one, but is as much the subject
of complaint as that of our own. There are a Mayor,
and a Board of Aidermen, a Comptroller, an Auditor,
a Treasurer, and a Street Commissioner, a Collector
of Taxes, etc. There are also a Water and Sewerage
Board, an Excise Board, a Health Board, a P (Slice
Commissioner, and a PaidrFire Department. All of
whom are as amenable to criticism as are those
elsewhere, and probably neither better nor worse
than those of other cities.
within the past year, or now going forward, are
strongly indicative of the city’s growth. They in
clude some three thousand new buildings of various
descriptions, seventeen miles of newly graded and
paved streets, and the flagging of 125,000 feet of side
walk. The Nicol son, the Belgian, an improved Bel
gian, the Scrimshaw, and other pavements, have
been largely introduced. Perhaps one of the most
useful and important improvements yet confpleted
is that of
by which the city has secured a shorter means of
access between the Eastern and Western districts,
and the possession of a spacious water front and
dock property on the East River. It has already
proved largely productive of revenue to the city, and
has brought into use a large quantity of adjoining
hitherto of little value. It has added
largely to the advantages of the Eastern District.
however, are becoming impressed with any no
means vague idea of the cost of these enterprises,
and only a Ltttle while since awoke to a realizing ap
preciation of the city’s annual expenditures, by the
information that taxation in Brooklyn was four per
cent, on the assessed value of property, or
The present debt of the city is nearly thirty mil
lions of dollars, including the three millions that
have been pledged toward the building of the bridge.
The estimated current expenses of the year are three
and a half millions of dollars.
are furnimed mainly by a corporation known as the
Union Ferry Company, and it is estimated that not
less than forty millions of passengers are conveyed
on the boats of the company in the course of a year.
The ferriage has, for many years, been uniformly
two cents for each foot passenger; but it is to be re
duced, during certain hours of the day, to one cent,
on and after the first of May next. The starting
points of these ferries in New York are at the foot of
Catharine, Fulton, Wall, and Whitehall streets. The
other ferries running between the two cities are the
Roosevelt street, and at different points along the
East river to Thirty-fourth street, and furnish chan
nels of intercommunication between the two cities,
and convey more than fifty millions of passengers
to all parts of Long Island, is furnished by means of
three lines of steam cars—the Long Island railroad,
the Flushing aud Northside railroad, and the South
side railroad.
also constitute an important element of the city’s
greatness. The most important, useful and exten
sive lines are those under the control of the Brook
lyn City Railroad Company, and run.on twelve
routes, and cover nearly forty miles in length of
track, and annually carry twenty-five millions of
passengers. The other companies are the Atlantic
Street and Greenwood, the De Kalb Avenue aud Co
ney Island routes. By these several companies all
sections of the city are united by bands of iron.
of Brooklyn are far from insignificant, and are
steadily progressive. There are ten Fire Insurance
companies, with an aggregate capital of nearly four
millions of dollars. They are, without exception,
solvent and progressive. There are also two Life
Insurance Companies, the “Brooklyn” and tho
“ Home.” They both occupy a creditable position,
and admirably illustrate the progress of the city to
which they belong. Of Savings Banks, the city can
boast ten. But perhaps the most important feature,
and the least known of Brooklyn’s claims to commer
cial importance, is to be found in
that line her shores. From a point between the
Catharine and Fulton Ferry slips to the Gowanus
district, there extends along the entire front an al
most unbroken line of extensive storage, stores, ele
vators, basins, and other accessories of commerce,
which furnish every needed facility for the prompt
and convenient transaction of a constanlly increasing
business. The most extensive and notable of these
great warehouses are those of the Atlantic Dock
Company, opposite Governor’s Island. They cover
a space of twenty acres, and inclose a basin of forty
acres in area, the arrangement being such as to ad
mit of vessels of any size djspliarging.cargoeg at their
very doors. Here most of the grain brought from
the West is handled, stored and transhiped, and nu
merous elevators offer requisite accommodation for a
business of the vastest proportions. Here, too, is
gathered together immense quantities of merchan
dise. Hundreds of vessels of every class and de
scription here discharge their rich stores from for
eign lands. And perhaps there is no point in
Brooklyn so worthy of a visit, so full of material, or
so suggestive as that we have briefly described. It
evinces and attests in the most marked manner the
important position of the city in a commercial sense.
It is a minature mercantile world. It is a feature of
Brooklyn well worthy of examination, though for
some, to us inexplicable reason, quite overlooked by
others than those personally interested.
In aesthetic, quite as much as in merely material
matters, Brooklyn has made gigantic strides. In
nothing is this exemplified more completely than in
with which the city the greatest of these
is Prospect Park. It contains an area of 550 acres, and
will cost, when completed, about nine million dollars.
The site is full of natural beauty, and abounds in
magnificent views, a variety of prospect, fine forest
trees, and a fertile soil. Many years will yet be re
quired for its completion. If in nothing else than as
a sanitary adjunct to the city, it presents a value be
yond any do.lar and cent computation. Beside Pros
pect, the city boasts its Washington, Carroll, and
City Parks, each of which constitutes a rich reservoir
of fresh air, which is a matter of more* importance
than even us aesthetic character. Pseudonyms, ap
propriate or otherwise, are applied to perhaps all the
cities of the United States, and Brooklyn has, in this
respect, been made famous by
of which there are upward of two hundred. To a
large extent they are edifices of grace and beauty,
and hign exemplifications of architectural excellence.
In this regard St. Ann’s, on the Heights, is undoubt
edly the most notable example, and Trinity ranks
of Brooklyn take a high rank. The Mercantile
Library Association would reflect credit upon any
community. Five first-class places of public amuse
ment contribute satistactorily tp the entertainment
of the public, while the Academy of Design, the
Long Island Historical Society, and the Lyceum
attest ,the intellectual character of the people. In
educational facilities, Brooklyn is likewise eminent.
It has, too, its Philharmonic Society, and numerous
first class
which are attractively fitted up and furnished, and
generously patronized. In short, Brooklyn is char
acterized by an uncommonly bright career, and is
less known and admired than, perhaps, she should
be, aud it is lor this reason that this brief and im
perfect sketch ni the city has been made.
of fjisforg,
Elvanlee eat with his elbows resting on th©
l table, and his head compressed by two fevers
ish hands. Everything was so like a dream.
He could not even now feel the dread Isbuq
L which depended on this night. He could nofl
yet realize the full pain of his position, and
understand that a few hours would decide his
. life or death.
He had made all arrangements demanded of
one who knows that his hours are numbered j
but he had done it all with a vague sense that
he was enacting for another person, or that ho
himself possessed two individualities—the one
dreamily conforming to certain grim laws, tbq
[ other standing and wondering.
He was not quite sure that he had under*
r stood the doctor correctly; but there was tha
port-hole open. The hour appointed wan
’ twelve o’clock, and a mile to leeward a boat
would be in waiting, to be distinguished by ft
r light appearing and disappearing. "
He got up, determined to shake off this letha
i argy, which threatened to frustrate the plan©
i which the doctor had, in spite of every diffi-n
• culty, contrived to communicate to him. it
was better and nobler at all events, to die in
attempting to escape from an unjust
• than to perish like a felon who had neither
i courage nor wit enough to strike one blow for
. liberty.
That quickened him, and he became anxious
for the arrival of the moment at which tha
struggle to begin. The only doubt novj
was, whether or not the sergeant had guessed
the meaning of the story by which the schema
of escape had been detailed in his presence,
and, in a measure, with his assistance. .
He thrust his head out at the port-hole.
There would be no difficulty in squeezing hia
body through, and then there was a tumble of
r about fifteen feet into the water. There would
i be a splash, and perhaps an alarm, at • whiefj
he must div. and make the best of it.
The wind was blowing fresh seaward, and
the water was rolling in gentle waves that
would present no difficulty to an expert swim
mer. In two hours tho night would be darken
than at present, and, if it did not change, tha
wind as well as the tide would be in his favor. ■
The waves plashed against the vessel's sida
with a subdued murmur as the great hulf(
swung drowsily on the bosom of tho water,
Elvanlee looked downward into its dark depth,
and felt that if the worst were to happen ha
had a friend there to save hiffi from a death of
. shame.
Some one spoke behind him, and he drew hia
head in with a quick jerk. A man stood on tho
threshold of the cabin staring at him.
Without showing any confusion, Elvanleo
asked him what he wanted.
‘■The captain’s compliments, sir; and if
there is anything you wish to have, he hopes
you will name it.
“ There is nothing, thank you, except that I
would hke the captain to spare mo a lew min
utes of his time.”
“All right, sir.”
The man saluted, and retired, his suspicions
partly allayed by the nature of the prisoner's
Elvanlee hastily wrote a few lines to Gen
eral Gardiner, begging him to use bis influ
ence to obtain, for Lady Oliphant’s sake, a
thorough investigation into the circumstances
under which her husband had been condemned.
He was writing the superscription when the
captain entered.
Elvanlee asked him to read the letter.
“I have thought of this since Doctor Fairlia
left me. The general’s influence will greatly
serve my cause. Will you, sir, see that this is'
given to a trusty messenger ?”
“I will be the messenger myself, sir,” said
the captain, “and you may be'satisfied that
within ten days your letter shall bo in the gen-.
eral’s hands if he is alive.”
This generous assurance was acknowledged
with earnest thanks. Elvanlee winced a little
at the thought that this proof of good nature
had been elicited by a species of trick; for he
had desired to see the captain merely to blind
tne man who had discovered him at the port
hole ; and he had only thought of addressing
Gardiner, because it afforded a reason for hie
When the captain left him it was half-past
ten. There was a whole hour and a half to
elapse yet before the moment of the crisis.
Suspense lengthened the prospect of that brief
space into an age of torture.
Hope and doubt were alternately uppermost
in his mind: now he was buoyant and confi
dent of success ; again he was despondent, and
regarded the venture as only a desperate
means of protesting against the'sentence which
had been pronounced upon him.
He kept his watch constantly before him.
How horribly slow the hands moved ; and they
were five minutes’fast, too? He had never
understood what a period five minutes could
make in a life until now.
. Eleven o’clock.
He advanced to the door and listened. He
hoard the man on guard humming an air to
himself, and occasionally pausing to yawn : he
had no heed for the fate which awaited the
prisoner in the morning.
Elvanlee turned away, and again looked out
at the porthole. Dark clouds were rapidly
drifting overhead, presaging a storm. At in
tervals the water lay in deep shadow, through
which it would be impossible to discern any
object at a distance of four oars’ length ; but
again the shadow was lifted as the clouds left
a clear space in the sky, and at such a mo
ment those on deck would have little difficulty
in descrying a man afloat.
He watched the clouds with painful eager
ness ; hope failing when they seemed to bright
en, and hope returning when they seemed to
Half-past eleven.
Some one at the door. He hastily dropped
on a stool, and pretended to bo deeply engaged
in the study of the Bible which had been left on
the table for his instruction. But he was not
disturbed; it was only somebody speaking to
the sentinel. The voice sounded like that of
Colonel Strang. The listener was not suffi
ciently familiar with it, however, to be certain.
The conversation was brief; whatever might
have been its purport, then, save the low plash
ing of the waves, the soft creaking of the tim
bers, and an occasional footstep overhead,
there were no sounds to interrupt the reposa
ot the prisoner.
A quarter to twelve. He looked anxiously at
the door, and vainly sought for some means of
securing it on the inside. Not discovering
anything he proceeded to prepare for the ven
He removed his neckerchief and his booted
and unbuttoned his coat, making ready to throv*
it off when the time carfre. He removed every
thing that was likely to encumber him in tha
water, and looked at his watch again. It waa
five minutes to twelve; but ho could wait nQ
He listened at the door, and heard nothing.
He sprung to the port-hole, threw off his coat,
and looked out. The water was perfectly clear,
and he drew back with a gasp of dismay.
The shadows began to gather again, and ha
watched them, counting the loud throbs of hia
pulse as the dark line slowly advanced, black
ening the glistening crests of the waves. Near
er came the shadows, until they closed in ona
black mass, measuring the length of the vessel.
He thrust his head and his shoulders out,
and slid downward till he hung by the knees.
Then, with a jerk to clear the vessel’s side, ha
threw himself out, falling head first into tha
water with a loud splash.
There was an immediate rush on deck to thq
gunwale, and a seaman passed the word— “A
Elvanlee had risen for an instant to obtain
breach after his fall, and had been seen boibra
he dived again. •
Colonel Strang was near, and he at once eng*’
gested that the prisoner had attempted to esn
cape, The cabin was examined and his sus
picion confirmed. i?
Meanwhile the long-boat had been lowered
by order of the second lieutenant, who entered
it with four £marines and . as many sailors.
Colonel Strang accompanied them.
They pushed off, all keeping a sharp loqii
NO. 12

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