CHAPTER XIV.

I PLAY THE SILVER KING.

The next morning we all drove to Hampton Court, the creation of Wolsey,

and when tired we went to the Star and Garter. There we talked over

matters, and came to the conclusion we must have a hundred thousand

apiece before we could afford to settle down at home.

We resolved to send off the "percentage" to Irving & Company, and to pay

all debts we were owing at home.

Mac's heart went out to his father. He longed for a reconciliation, and

he determined to send him $10,000 and so make good the money his father

had given him to establish himself in New York, at the same time write

the old gentleman he had made a big strike in a cotton speculation, in

order to explain his having so large a sum to spare.

Our accounts were pretty well mixed up, and I hit upon a novel way to

settle them and give each of us an equal start. My proposal was that we

should pool everything. To put every dollar we had in the world on the

table then and there, and let the firm assume all obligations, purely

personal as they were, save only the Irving "percentage," and pay them

from the general fund, then divide the balance. This was agreed to, and

the queerest balance sheet ever made out was soon ready.

[Illustration: "THREE OR FOUR SHOTS RANG OUT, OUR TRAIN WAS OFF THE

TRACK."--Page 281.]

We all had planned certain gifts and presents to friends in America, a

considerable sum in the aggregate; all the cost of this was assumed by

the firm. The main item was $10,000 to the New York police. When the

balances were finally struck nearly $30,000 had disappeared from our

cash capital, but on the whole it was a good plan. It drew us all closer

together, consequently increased our faith in each other and at the same

time prevented all chances of future dispute. This matter settled, we

determined to have a little recreation by taking a tour in Italy. After

studying guide books and routes we resolved to take a steamer from

Southampton to Naples, spend a few days there in seeing the town and

visiting Pompeii, etc., then north to Rome.

We had made considerable preparation for our tour, when a circumstance

arose that not only changed our plans, but in the sequel changed our

lives as well.

We had been paying another visit to Hampton Court, and in place of

dining at the Star and Garter we returned by boat on the Thames and

dined at Cannon Street Hotel. Before going to the hotel we took a stroll

down Lombard street, and, arriving at the intersection of streets

opposite the Bank of England, we came to a halt. While watching the

human whirlpool in that centre of throbbing life, I turned to my

friends, and, pointing to the Bank of England, said: "Boys, you may

depend upon it, there is the softest spot in the world, and we could hit

the bank for a million as easy as rolling off a log." No response was

made at the time, and the casual remark was apparently forgotten. Well

for us if it had been.

The next day we went for a drive to Windsor, and were to dine at a

famous old roadside inn. On arriving we, of course, visited the castle,

and, while viewing the decorations in the stately throne room, Mac

stopped us with the remark that something I had said the day before had

been sticking in his mind. He went on to say that we wanted a hundred

thousand apiece in order to return home in good shape; that the Bank of

England had plenty to spare, and it was well for the lightning to strike

where the balances were heavy. The bank would never miss the money, and

he firmly believed the whole directorate of the fossil institution was

permeated with the dry rot of centuries. The managers were convinced

that their banking system was impregnable, and, as a consequence, it

would fall an easy victim, provided, as we suspected, the bank was

really managed by hereditary officials.

Here was a picture, indeed. Three American adventurers, two of them

barely past their majority, standing in the throne room of Windsor

Castle, and plotting to strike a blow at the money bags of the Bank of

England!

The idea grew on us rapidly. After dinner we sat in the twilight of that

old inn and discussed the Old Lady of Threadneedle Street from a point

of view from which she had probably never been discussed before. I can

imagine with what scorn the idiotically puffed and bepuffed magnates of

the bank would have regarded us had they known of our discussion.

They afterwards boasted to me, as they had boasted for a century, that

their system was perfect, and as a proof that it was so they widely

proclaimed they had not changed it in a hundred years. They had

proclaimed so loudly and so long its absolute invulnerability that they

not only believed it themselves, but all the world had come to believe

it as well. "Safe as the bank" was a proverb everywhere underlying the

English tongue.

In our discussion we speedily came to the conclusion that any system of

finance unchanged in detail for a century, belief in the perfection of

which was an article of faith not alone with the officials charged with

its management, but with the people of England at large, must, in the

very nature of the case, lie wide open to the attack of any man bold

enough to doubt its impregnability and resolute to attack.

What a figment of the imagination this boasted impregnability of the

Bank of England was the sequel will show. And as for those masters of

finance, those earthly Joves of the financial world who sat serene above

the clouds, "the Governor and Company of the Bank of England," they

soon had the whole money world shaking with laughter when they stood

revealed the Simple Simons they proved to be.

We wanted a hundred thousand apiece now, and had resolved to get it from

the Bank of England. Such was our confidence that we never thought

failure possible. Truly, if there ever was a plan laid in ignorant

enthusiasm this was one. Here we were, absolutely without any knowledge

of the inner workings of the institution, strangers in London, being

under assumed names, without business of any kind, and not only unable

to give any references, but unable to stand any investigation.

Exactly how we were to manipulate the bank we did not know. We were

inclined, now we had some fifty thousand dollars capital, to avoid so

serious a thing as forgery, but had an idea for one of us to obtain in

some way an introduction to the bank and to use all the money of the

party to establish a credit. In the mean time all were to get in the

swim in or around the exchange, and use the one who had the account in

the bank for reference for the others. If some good chance offered to go

into a straightforward business we could drop forever all thoughts of

breaking the law again. This was the theory; in practice, we were almost

certain to try on the game we had of late played so successfully.

In conference it was determined an account should be opened with the

bank, anyway; after that was done we could decide what use to put it to.

As I had not yet shown up in the previous transactions, I volunteered to

go to the front in this; so, telling my two friends to go to the

Continent--Italy, if they liked--I would remain in London and manage to

get the account started. They took me at my word, and a day or two after

sailed from Liverpool to Lisbon, and passed through Portugal to Spain,

visiting the chief cities of that country.

I was left alone in London and began prospecting at once, setting all

my wits at work to see how I could manage to get an introduction to the

bank. I had only $20,000 to start the thing with, as we did not think it

policy to risk our entire capital in one place. My first idea was to

find some solicitor of standing who kept his account at the Bank of

England, to give him a retaining fee of L100 to act as my legal adviser,

telling him some fairy tales about establishing a branch firm in London,

and engage him, as soon as we started, to devote all his time to our

business at a fat salary. But there were many objections to having a

lawyer to introduce me, they being wide awake and liable to scrutinize

too closely. If one should depart so far from his policy of caution as

to introduce a new client he might after the introduction easily notify

the bank that I was a stranger to him and perhaps advise them to

investigate, and investigation was the one thing I must avoid. Of

course, one is supposed to give reference, even if introduced. Although

I had no acquaintance with this bank's methods, yet I was confident that

all those at the top must be a stupid lot of red-tape sticklers, and I

resolved to do my business with them alone. I was pretty sure that the

routine of an introduction once well over, so as to give me access to

the officials, they could be easily satisfied and made to help on the

fraud, in place of being obstacles. The result proved my surmise

correct, for such a lot of self-sufficient barnacles no institution in

the world was ever burdened with.

The dry rot of officialism permeated the bank through and through; even

the bank solicitors, the Messrs. Freshfields, were merely "highly

respectable," and sometimes when that term is applied in England it

indicates mediocrity. The Freshfields managed to spend four hundred and

fifty thousand dollars of the bank's money in our prosecution. That fact

alone would have ruined the reputation of any law firm in America, but

the ring of toadies who control that close corporation called the

Benchers of the Inn was loud in its praise of this firm for the extreme

ability shown in working up the case for the bank.

I finally made up my mind to find some old established shopkeeper who

kept an account at the bank, and secure an introduction through him.

I determined to carry out the plan at once. The thing was first of all

to find my man; so at 2 o'clock that afternoon I stationed myself near

the bank to watch depositors coming out and then follow them. Four out

of five depositors when they take money to the bank come out examining

their passbooks. That afternoon I followed several; of these I selected

three; one was an optician and electrician, an old-established firm,

doing a large business. Another was an East India importing house. The

third was Green & Son, tailors.

The next day I went to the optician and purchased an expensive opera

glass, and had him engrave on it "To Lady Mary, from Her Friend," and

paid him for it with a L100 note; then I went to the East India firm and

bought a costly white silk shawl and a lap robe fit for a prince, and

looked at a camel's hair shawl at one hundred guineas.

I had brought from America with me a Western hat, and as I had resolved

to play the Silver King, I wore it when going around among the

tradesmen. The English had, and still have, absurd ideas concerning that

desirable article, "The American Silver King." The stage article they

take for the genuine, and devoutly believe that the pavements are thick

with them in America, all marching around with rolls of thousand-dollar

bills in their pockets, which they throw out to bootblacks and

bartenders.

Therefore, I resolved to play this role. After my purchase of the shawl

and robe, I drove in my brougham up to Green & Son, and entered, smoking

a cigar, and with my big hat pulled well down over my eyes. Soon as I

saw the elder Green I felt I had my man. Certainly I had hit well, for

the firm (fathers and sons) had been depositors in the Bank of England

for near a century, and had considerable wealth; but, English fashion,

stuck steadily to business. This is a firm of ultra-fashionable tailors,

that, like the historic Poole next door, charge for their reputation

more than for the fit of their garments.

One of the firm and an attendant flew to wait upon me, but, paying no

attention to them, I started on a slow march around the establishment,

examining the array of cloths, they following at my heels. I went down

one side and returned on the other to the door. Arriving there I halted

and, pointing first at one roll of cloth and then another, said: "One

suit from this, three suits from that, two from that, a topcoat from

that, another from that, another suit from that, one from that. Now,

show me some dressing gowns." The first shown was twenty guineas. I

instantly said that would do. One may be certain the tailor and his

assistant flew around, one to measure and the other to write the

measurements of this American sheep that Providence had led astray into

their shop. When asked my name and address, I gave F. A. Warren, Golden

Cross Hotel, and then, for fear I might forget my name, I made a

memorandum of it and placed it in my vest pocket. They bowed me out,

evidently greatly impressed with my taciturnity, and especially my big

hat, confident also that they had hooked a fortune in a genuine American

silver king. I entered the brougham and drove directly to the Golden

Cross Hotel, Charing Cross, and there registering "F. A. Warren" and

securing a room I left for my hotel. This room at the Golden Cross I

kept for a whole year, but never slept there. It was the only address

the Bank of England ever had of their distinguished customer, Mr.

Frederic Albert Warren.

I did not trouble any more about the other two store people, but looked

about the town, amusing myself. In due time I called and tried the

garments on, and, when ready to deliver, I left the cash with the hotel

people with orders to pay the bill, which was done. There the matter

rested for ten days, when I drove up again, and, remaining in my

carriage, the head of the firm came out to me and I remarked: "I must

have more garments; duplicate that order," and drove off.

A week after I called to have them tried on, and then said that as I was

going to Ireland for a few days' shooting with Lord Clancarty, I would

send down a portmanteau for the garments and call for it on my way from

the hotel to the station. So I bought the most expensive trunk I could

find and sent it to the tailor. When the day came for me to call I

provided myself with six L500 bank notes, five L100 and about fifty L5

notes to go on the bottom of the roll. Before leaving my hotel I had a

large trunk put on the cab, and then taking inside of it all the

dressing bags, rugs, silk umbrellas and canes in the whole party, I

drove to the tailor's, paid my bill with a L500 note and had the

portmanteau put on the cab. I turned to go, but, halting at the door, I

remarked quite in a casual manner: "By the way, Mr. Green, I have more

money than I care to carry loose in my vest pocket to Ireland; I think I

will leave it with you." He replied, "Certainly, sir," and as I was

pulling the roll out of my vest pocket he said: "How much is it, sir?"

"Only L4,000; it may be L5,000;" to which he replied: "Oh, sir, I would

be afraid to take charge of so much; let me introduce you to my bank."

He ran for his hat, accompanied me to the Bank of England, and, calling

one of the sub-managers, introduced me as an American gentleman, Mr. F.

A. Warren, who desired to open an account. A check and a pass book were

brought and the signature book laid before me for my autograph, and I

was requested to sign my name in full, so I christened myself Frederic

Albert. I drove to the North Eastern station and telegraphed the boys at

Barcelona that the thing was done and they could, if they liked, curtail

their excursion and return to England at once.

So the first step had been taken and successfully. We talked of now

giving up all further idea of breaking the law, and starting in London

as brokers and promoters of stock companies. The plan was for me to take

the money of the firm, L10,000, place it all in the Bank of England, and

begin to buy and sell stock and keep my money moving in and out of the

bank. Then George and Mac were to start an office and launch out as

promoters and refer to Mr. Warren of the Bank of England. This would

place them on a footing at once, and I would gradually drop out of the

Bank of England after introducing George and Mac in their right names.

This was a grand plan, and had we only carried it out fortune would have

been ours, and honor as well, but we were too impatient of any delay in

securing wealth and overconfident of our success and cleverness. Above

all, we were anxious to get home again. But I have got somewhat ahead of

my story.

Soon after I had a telegram from George and Mac saying that they would

arrive in time for a late dinner, and for me to wait and dine with them.

At the time I was living at the Grosvenor Hotel, Victoria Station. We

had a pleasant meeting and a good dinner to celebrate it. I exhibited my

check book, and they were eager to know all details of my interviews,

not only at the bank, but with the tailor, and over the wine I related

with great spirit the details of the little comedy. I have to this very

day a vivid recollection of the shouts of laughter that arose from my

companions during the recital. We laughed then, but we did not laugh for

the next twenty years, neither did we partake of any sumptuous banquets.

In the world of crime success is failure, and perhaps never had the

absolute accuracy of that statement been so fully confirmed as in our

own lives.

That merriment of ours ended in anguish too deep for words. For twenty

years I never looked upon a star, nor saw the face of a woman or of a

child; that is to say, from my early years when the heart beats fast

and the blood runs warmly in the veins. That fearful gap of time was

filled to the brim with the peltings of a pitiless storm, hungry,

driven, toiling like a galley slave under the Summer's burning sun, or

thinly clad exposed to every blizzard and all the whirling storms of

Winter, until my early manhood had vanished and the best years of my

prime were all melted away, and at last I came forth from my dungeon,

but with the mark of suffering and desolation burned deep upon me, to

face a world of which I could not but be ignorant.

[Illustration: THE "SUGAR-LOAF" IN THE BAY OF RIO.]