CHAPTER XLII.

MANY A MAN MORE DANGEROUS WRITES ALDERMAN AFTER HIS NAME.

Foster's experience during his four years' residence in Chicago was

decidedly novel, and it had evidently brightened his wits--that is,

increased his cunning without adding to his honesty. And as I think it

will interest my reader to get a view of life from the actor's own

standpoint, I will relate one of the many stories he told me during the

years we worked together.

Upon Foster's release from his first term of imprisonment he joined the

Christian Aid Society of London, and Mr. Whitely, the secretary,

promptly "sent him to sea," as he has thousands of others. In due time

he arrived in New York, but as he had heard much of Chicago he

determined to go there. He arrived penniless, but within an hour ran

against an old friend in the person of a former partner in the art of

burglary who had been a fellow prisoner with him in London. This man's

name was Turtle, and Mr. Whitely had only "sent him to sea" two brief

years before. It was plain from his magnificent diamond ring, pin and

big bank roll, freely displayed, that the seafaring life of the former

protege of the London Prison Aid Society was a profitable occupation. He

was delighted to meet Foster, and took him to a tailor's at once and

fitted him out liberally, at the same time handing him $250, just for

pocket money. When, on the next day, Foster stated to his friend that

he was ready to undertake a burglary, Turtle was displeased, and said:

"No; we are on the honest game, which pays better." What that was will

appear. Turtle had a large private inquiry office, with two of the city

detectives for side partners, who turned over to him all business in

which there was a prospect of mutual profit. All imaginable schemes of

villainy were concocted and executed there, and with perfect impunity,

too. For Turtle had the ear of all the magistrates, and was in with all

the gangs that made the City Hall of Chicago the worst and vilest den of

robbers that encumbers this earth.

What cause the pessimist has for his boding views when in cities like

New York, Quaker Philadelphia, Chicago and San Francisco, the City

Halls, those centres of municipal life, hold and are ruled by the worst

and most dangerous gangs of criminals sheltered by any roof in any city!

Alas! that the centre which should be the purest stream within the city

should be a foul cesspool, sending out poisonous vapors to pollute the

life of the citizens!

Universal suffrage in our great centres is a corrupt tree and its fruits

must needs be poisonous.

Turtle gave his friend Foster a welcome at his office and at once

enrolled him on his staff, but virtually made him a member of the firm.

So, between the two Police Headquarters thieves and the two English

ones, they had a combination indeed.

Many stories Foster told me during the years of our intercourse that

were novel and strange, and gave me a view of the social world seldom

seen. Here is a specimen:

One day a countryman appeared at Police Headquarters in Chicago and

announced that he had been robbed of $20,000, and showed how his coat

pocket had been cut open and the money taken. This, he explained, had

been done in a crowd. It was a strange place for a man to carry so

large a sum, and, still stranger, the pocket was cut on the inside. Of

course, a pickpocket in the rare event of cutting the pocket of an

intended victim must of necessity cut the pocket from the outside. The

countryman had fallen at Headquarters to the tender mercies of the two

partners of Turtle. One glance at the pocket showed them there was a

colored gentleman in the woodpile, and as there was $20,000 in the deal

somewhere, they determined to have some share of it. They, of course,

pretended to believe the story of the countryman, but for fear some of

the other Headquarters men might hear and want a share, they hurried him

away from the office over to the Sherman House; then one went to

Turtle's office and posted him on the situation. The countryman was

anxious to leave town, but on various pretenses they held him for two

days, but as he stoutly affirmed that the lost money was his own they

were puzzled to solve the mystery; but their knowledge of human nature

was such that they felt certain that if they could only arrive at the

bottom the old gentleman would not be quite as white as he pretended to

be. He came from an obscure mountain town in East Tennessee, and while

they fancied a trip there might solve matters they feared to lose their

victim--for victim these human tigers determined the countryman should

be. The second day they resolved on decisive measures to get at the

truth, and at the same time secure some plunder, provided the

Tennesseean had any cash.

So far Turtle and Foster had not been seen by the victim. The detectives

asked the countryman to remain one more night to see if they could not

catch the men who had robbed him. That afternoon one of Turtle's staff

secured a room at the same hotel, and, seizing an opportunity, slipped

into the countryman's chamber and concealed some burglar tools under the

mattress of his bed and in his carpet bag. This once done, they marched

the "guy" along Clark street, and, as arranged, Turtle and one of his

staff met them, and shaking hands with the two detectives asked if they

were arresting their companion for a job. Upon their saying he was a

wealthy gentleman from the South, Turtle burst out laughing, and said he

knew him for an old-time burglar, and if they would search his house

they would find stolen goods, and ended by saying, "Bring him down to my

office and I will show you his picture." The detectives now changed

their tones and threatened to arrest him. He having, as the sequel will

show, a bad conscience, became frightened. Then they arrested him, and

announced that they were going to search his room at the hotel. This

they did, taking him along. Of course, they found what they had

previously hidden, very much to the terror of the countryman, who,

lashed by a bad conscience, began to think he was in a fix. The friends

of the hour before now became threatening bullies, promising to get him

ten years for the possession of burglar tools. They took him to Turtle's

office, and there stripping him they found to their disappointment that

he had no money, but found carefully folded up in an inner pocket a

postoffice receipt for a registered letter sent from Nashville to St.

Paul. They kept him a prisoner that night while Turtle left by the first

train for St. Paul with the receipt in his pocket. The next morning

found him in St. Paul, and a few minutes later he walked out of the

office with the registered letter, which proved to be a bulky one.

Tearing it open he found it full of United States bonds and greenbacks,

amounting in all to $20,000. The next day all save $1,000, reserved for

the victim, was divided among the four birds of prey. That day the

victim was taken before a friendly magistrate and fully committed to

await in jail the action of the Grand Jury. Twenty-four hours later a

tool called on him at the jail, and gave him the option of taking $1,000

and getting out of town by the first train or getting ten years for the

possession of burglar tools. The poor fool, with trembling eagerness,

accepted the first part of the ultimatum, and within an hour a bail

bond was filled up, and darkness found the baffled old man speeding

westward, never again to look on his own people.

But how was he a baffled old man? He had embarked in a scheme of

villainy, but had been beaten at his own game by sharper rascals. From

whom did he steal the money? Read:

In a small Tennessee town there lived a widow whose husband had been

killed in the Confederate army and who found herself, like so many more

Southern ladies at the close of the war, impoverished, and with a family

of children to be provided with bread. But it seems she was a brave

body, and with a head for business. She opened a small hotel in

Nashville, and by reason of her history, no less than her excellent

hostelry, she thrived apace, and, investing all her savings in newly

started industrial enterprises in Nashville, her small investments

brought in large returns, which were reinvested, until at 40, finding

herself mistress of a competency, she quit business and went to spend

the remainder of her days where she was born. The hero of the adventure

in Chicago was not only her neighbor, but had been the comrade of her

husband through the deadly fights of the war. She naturally turned to

him as a friend for advice. He first asked her to be his wife, and upon

her refusal he began to urge her to dispose of all her interests in

Nashville and reinvest her money in the nearby city of Knoxville. At

last she consented, and sent him to Nashville with authority to act as

her agent. He disposed of her property, except the old hotel. He was

paid $20,000 on her account, and once with the money in his possession

he determined to keep it. It was a cowardly deed, and dearly did he pay

for it. He wrote her he was going to Chicago, and would take the money

with him, as he would only remain for a day. To Chicago he came, and, as

related, robbed himself, sending off the money in a registered letter to

himself. Then he appeared at Police Headquarters with his cut pocket

and clumsy story, which appeared in the next morning's paper. He sent a

marked copy of the paper to the lady, and at the same time wrote a

hypocritical letter stating that he was so heartbroken over losing her

money that he did not have the courage to look her in the face, and

never should until such time as he could repay the money. He said he was

going to California to work, and when he had enough she would see him

again, but not before.

[Illustration: "I RESOLVED TO LEAVE A MESSAGE OF HOPE AND HIGH

RESOLVE."]

How easy it is for a man to become an unspeakable villain, and how

nicely this one was hoisted with his own petard!

Eventually this catastrophe proved a blessing to the widow. It drove her

back to her hotel again, and soon after she became the wife of one of

the bravest and best men Tennessee ever produced. I was so interested in

the fate of this lady that when in Nashville in 1893 I tried to hunt her

up. I found several who knew the whole story, and from them I heard her

after history and a full confirmation of Foster's narrative.

Foster remained four years in Chicago and flourished. He and Turtle

became very influential in politics and partners in a combine of

rascally Aldermen and police magistrates that robbed the city and the

citizens with impunity. But unluckily for him, he one day took it into

his head to pay a visit to his old haunts in England, there to display

his diamonds and bank roll to such of his former cronies as happened to

be at liberty. On arriving in London he began to play the role of a rich

American, but was recognized by the police, an old charge raked up

against him, arrested, promptly placed on trial, found guilty and

sentenced to ten years' imprisonment. Although the possessor of

considerable property, he is to-day toiling at Chatham like a slave and

probably if he lives he will come out a broken man. It is a certainty

that the very day he is liberated he will "go to sea," being sent by a

prisoners' aid society, and a few days later become an ornament to that

good city of Chicago. Once there, his ambition will not be satisfied

until he takes his seat as Alderman, becoming one of the City Fathers.

Many more immoral and dangerous than he write Alderman after their names

in that windy city.

[Illustration: BIDWELL PICKING OAKUM.]