It is some 6 or 8 inches in diameter, and is made of wood. In its general principle it closely resembles the “needle wheel,” although far less ingenious and by no means so complicated. It consists of a disc of wood, on the rim of which are painted numbers 1 to 32, in consecutive order. Between each two numbers is placed a thin brass plate, about a quarter of an inch in height. Every alternate piece runs a little farther in toward the centre than does the one next to it. The disc slopes a little outward from the centre all around toward the circumference. Above the disc is placed a somewhat smaller saucer-shaped piece of wood, similar to that used in the “needle wheel,” and likewise perforated with three holes near the centre. This upper saucer-like plate revolves. In it is placed a marble, and the saucer is set in motion. The marble falls through one of the holes, and rolls down the incline into one of the little numbered compartments which, as I have said, are separated by thin brass plates.

A small case containing articles of cheap jewelry stands near the wheel, each one bearing a number. The player pays a stipulated sum—usually twenty five cents—for the privilege of twirling the saucer containing the marble and taking his chances of winning a prize. If the marble falls into a compartment numbered to correspond with the number attached to any one of the prizes exposed in the case, the article so numbered is given to him. If, unfortunately, he draws a blank, he receives nothing.

The “fake” element in the device consists in the prolongation of each alternative brass division between the numbers on the wheel. Of course, the saucer is always set in motion in the same direction, usually from left to right. The marble necessarily rolls in the same direction, and when it strikes one of the protruding brass plates it inevitably rolls into the compartment just next to the prolonged division. In numbering the prizes the proprietor is careful so to arrange the blanks that the latter may always correspond with the numbers of the compartments into which the marble is sure to roll. The saucer plate into which the marble is first placed, sets down so close upon the lower disc, that the ends of the dividing plates cannot be seen by the players, who naturally suppose that they are all of equal length.

As I have said, this apparatus is not well adapted to winning large sums, yet where a fair is being held, as much as $50 or $60 may be won in one day. This, however, is considered a comparatively poor return for the risk, expense and trouble which the operator incurs.

Like the other swindling devices which have been described, the mechanism of this contrivance is easily operated, and, when explained, readily comprehended. It is, however, what is called, in the slang of the street, a “sure winner”“sure winner” for the manipulator. Thousands of dollars have been won through its operation in a single day, without the possibility of the dupes discovering how they have been defrauded.

In order to work it successfully, it is indispensable that the top of the machine be raised high enough above the heads of the surrounding crowd to prevent the bystanders from seeing the interior, inasmuch as such a view would disclose the apparatus by means of which they are robbed of their money. With this end in view, the gambler always operates it from a buggy, the upper part of the machine standing about three feet above the floor of the conveyance.

As will be seen in the cut, the device consists of a hoop-wheel (D B), a supporting rod and a box platform, supporting the rod and wheel. The apparatus maybe taken apart and neatly packed in this box. On the box is placed a valise containing money. The wheel, or “belt,” is made of brass, and is about sixteen inches in diameter and four inches broad. It contains thirty-two compartments or pockets, each one containing a card, which is held in position by a small fold of metal on each of three sides. These cards may be perfectly blank, though usually they contain pictures of famous beauties, or other celebrities. The valise, which is shown in the illustration at the foot of the upright rod, contains money. Inside the metal hoop is a leather belt, on which, at equal distances, are painted numbers representing sums of money, so arranged that one will fall behind each alternate compartment. When the cards are raised, the belt is seen through a rectangular opening at the back.

The driver of the buggy carries a number of whips. As soon as a crowd has gathered around him (which is certain to happen in a very few moments), he informs the spectators that any one or more may, for $1.00, purchase a chance to win a money prize, varying in amount from $1.00 to $20.00. Some one having expressed an inclination to buy, the proprietor takes his money and hands him a whip, with which to point to any one of the thirty-two sections of the “hoop” which he may select. The purchaser having rested the whip on a compartment, the operator removes the card which he has touched. Underneath is shown either a blank space on the “belt” or one inscribed with a certain sum. If it happen to be the latter, the buyer is given the amount indicated; if the former, he receives nothing.

Of course, as in all similar gambling machines, it is optional with the manipulator whether the player win or lose. In the apparatus in question, the “fake” is worked as follows: The inside of the “belt” contains very small numbers, corresponding precisely in location to those seen when the cards are raised. The operator, standing in the buggy, is, of course, able to see these inner numbers. As soon as a “sucker” has touched a card, the proprietor knows whatwhat number, if any, lies beneath it. If below it there is a blank space, he at once raises the card and shows the dupe that he has lost. If, on the other hand, he perceives that the victim has won a prize, he stoops down toward the valise, ostensibly to take out money, but really to touch a secret knob or button, (lettered F in the cut) which works a wire (c) concealed beneath the cover of the box and running up through the hollow rod until it terminates in a hook (A B), which, by pressure, may be attached to the inner leather belt. By operating this wire, he is able to shift the position of the latter and thus so transfer the positions of the numbers thereon painted that a blank may be substituted for a prize at his own will. Thus, when a player has in fact won a prize, the gambler, through a dextrous manipulation of the inner belt, by means of his secret apparatus, shifts a blank to the aperture, removes the card which the player has touched, and, presto! shows him that he has lost.

Before commencing operations, the proprietor usually removes the inner belt, which he exhibits to the crowd, in order to show them that there is nothing concealed. The curved hook (A B), of course remains, hidden from view behind the metal hoop.

Many and ingenious are the devices of the operator to induce greenhorns to purchase chances. A favorite method is to offer to buy the player’s chance as soon as he touches a card with his whip, offering him $2.00 or $3.00 therefor. If he accepts, the manipulator, by moving the inner belt before he withdraws the card, can show him a large prize painted thereon and thus easily convince him that had he declined the offer he might have won five, ten, or even twenty dollars.

Of course, the aid of “cappers” is a sine qua non, since, if no one wins, the crowd will soon grow suspicious. When a confederate buys a chance and touches a card with the whip, the manipulator looks at the inside of the belt to ascertain whether he has won a prize. If he has, the sum called for is given him; if not, the “belt” is shifted by means of the hook until a prize is brought behind the aperture, when the card is raised and the crowd is speedily informed of his “good luck.”

As many persons can buy chances at one time at this game as the proprietor has whips, usually six or seven players taking one each. No two players, however, are allowed to touch adjacent sections, inasmuch as in such a case one of them would inevitably win. When several purchase chances at one time, the operator raises but one card at a time, and thus finds abundant leisure in which to move the belt to meet the exigencies of each case as it presents itself.

It may be easily seen that this device is better adapted for use upon fair grounds, or other open places, than in the public streets. Its successful operation depends upon the proprietor’s being so far above the heads of the crowd that his manipulation of the inner belt cannot be seen. When the fraud is practiced in a crowded thoroughfare, great care must be taken by the sharper that his movements are not watched by prying eyes from some over-looking window. Another danger which threatens detection is the disposition of the crowd to climb upon the buggy. This, however, may be overcome by the use of a slight degree of force, and by refusing to proceed until such inquisitive interlopers have resumed their places on the ground. But the man whom the proprietor most dreads is the individual on horse-back, who forces his way up to the buggy, and from his point of vantage obtains a full view of the modus operandi. I once saw an amusing incident of this description at a fair in a small Missouri town. The rider would insist upon taking a position near the buggy in which the apparatus stood, and it was evident that he was giving telegraphic signals to a friend in the crowd. The operator rose equal to the occasion. Persuasion was idle; force impossible. He took the only course open to him and bribed the horseman to ride away, paying him handsomely for the concession.

Notwithstanding all these draw-backs, the contrivance is a prime favorite with itinerant gamblers, in consequence of the ease with which it is manipulated and the general confidence with which it is regarded until the idea that it is a “fake” dawns upon the mind of the crowd.

The name of the device is supposed to have been the same as that of its inventor. A well-known confidence operator by the name of O’Leary flourished some years ago, who was recognized among his companions as an expert manipulator of this apparatus, and it is generally believed among the guild of peripatetic gamesters that the idea of its construction was conceived in his fertile brain, through the direct inspiration of the antipodes of Providence.

The accompanying illustration gives an excellent idea of the general appearance of this device, which is one of the most successfully contrived schemes for swindling which has ever fallen under my observation. It is known indiscriminately as “hap-hazard” or “bee-hive.” The former name was probably given because of its being, to all appearance, exclusively a game of chance; it has been called “bee hive” because of its shape, but it is safe to say that the “suckers” get none of the honey.

It consists of two cones, an inner and outer, lettered “B” and “D” on the diagram, placed upon a heavy, circular piece of wood, around the rim of which are thirty-two compartments, numbered from one to thirty-two, and separated by thin metal plates. Driven into the surface of the inner cone are small nails or metal pegs, the arrangement of which is a matter of comparative indifference, although they are usually rather close together and approximately equi-distant. The outer cone serves as a cap or case. Formerly this was made of tin, but of late years glass has been substituted, with the exception of the lower inch, which is still made of metal, silver-plated, for reasons which will be presently explained.

Fair and circus grounds are the localities usually selected for working this scheme, the operation of which is very simple. A case containing numbered prizes forms part of the paraphernalia of the proprietor, and always occupies a conspicuous place near the machine.

The manner of using the apparatus for gambling purposes is as follows: Any one wishing to “try his luck” (?) pays a fixed sum (usually 50 cents to $1.00, according to the size of the crowd) for the privilege. The outer cap (D) having been placed over the cone (B), a marble is dropped through an opening (C) in the top of the former. Striking upon the surface of the inner cone, it pursues a “hap-hazard” course, striking against the nails, or pegs, as it falls to the bottom. Should it roll into a compartment numbered to correspond with one of the prizes in the case the fortunate player is given the particular prize called for.

The “fake” element may be very easily explained. If the reader will look at the accompanying diagram, he will perceive at the base of the inner cone (B), three small dots, lettered A, A, A. These dots represent pegs driven at precisely equal distances from each other, a row of which runs all around the base of the inner cone. The arrangement of these pegs is such that each of them may be made to stand exactly above the alternate compartment in the lower plate. When the cap is placed over the apparatus, by an ingenious device at the bottom, the manipulator is able, by slightly turning the outer cone, to arrange this lower row of pegs so that each of them may stand directly over a winning number. The result of this arrangement is that when the marble, in its descent, strikes against one of these lower pegs its course is necessarily deflected into one of the compartments on either side, the division into which it inevitably falls always being a blank.

An unsophisticated player can, consequently, never win except through the consent of the operator. In order to encourage the crowd in playing, “cappers” have to be employed, who are always on hand to draw prizes. As soon as one of these individuals makes his appearance and is recognized by the proprietor, the latter gives a slight turn to the outer case, in such a way as to bring the lower row of pegs directly above the blanks. The consequence is that when the “capper” drops the marble through the aperture above referred to, it must necessarily fall into a compartment numbered to correspond with a prize.

The devices of the “capper” are sometimes very ingenious. In order to disarm suspicion he will occasionally approach a verdant looking countryman with the statement that he sees that the game is perfectly fair and would like to take a chance, but is restrained by the presence of his wife and son. He therefore asks the countryman to take his money, buy him a chance and drop the marble for him. The old farmer is naturally pleased with the suggestion, inasmuch as it gives him all the excitement of gaming without any of the risk. He very readily complies with the “capper’s” request, and the latter standing behind him gives a prearranged signal to the operator that the player is acting for him. The countryman draws the prize, which he honestly turns over to the “capper.” The latter, thereupon, usually gives the farmer a dollar with which to make a venture on his own account. As a matter of course he loses, and it is usually not very difficult to induce him to make another trial, on the principle of “double or quits,” or “representing,” as has been before explained in the remarks under the “needle wheel.”

Some idea of gambler’s profits from this machine may be formed when I say that the man operating such a device, who fails to take away from a fair ground at least $500 a week in clear profits, considers that he is doing a small business, and I have myself nearly doubled that sum within that time.

It sometimes happens, however, that the verdant looking countryman, after receiving the dollar from the “capper” and winning a prize for the latter, forthwith “makes tracks” for parts unknown, leaving the proprietor and his astute confederate to mourn the loss of their money and to bewail their own misplaced confidence in human nature.

This is a device by no means common, there being very few of the “fraternity” who can operate it successfully. Yet there are two sharpers in the country, who have won fortunes through its manipulation, either of whom would promptly resent any imputation upon his character as an insult. In the accompanying diagram, Figure “1” shows the exterior of the box, which is of wood, about ten inches long, four and one-half inches broad and two and one-half inches deep. Inside this box “B,” are placed thirty ivory balls or marbles, each of which are numbered. Near the operator stands a table on which is a show case containing twelve prizes, part of which are articles of jewelry and the remainder sums of money. The players, of whom there may be seven or eight, pay from fifty cents to a dollar each for the chance of winning a prize. When a sufficient number of chances have been sold the operator shakes the box, causing the balls to roll from one end to the other. Letter “A” on figure 1, represents a slide at one end of the box. This slide is raised by the manipulator and allows one ball to escape at a time. The number of the marble is examined, and if it be found to correspond with that attached to a prize in the show-case, the fortunate player is given the article or money which he has won. The diagram of the case is shown in figure 3.

The fraud consists of two elements, one relating to the marbles, and the other to the box. In the first place, the ivory spheres are not all of equal size, the twelve whose numbers correspond to the valuable prizes being the merest trifle larger than the eighteen which call for articles of no value. So slight, however, is the variation in size that it is absolutely impossible to detect it by the eye. The “fake” in the box is in the slide, “A,” and is shown in figure 1, which gives an enlarged view of this part of the apparatus. In this figure the line “B” represents a shoulder, whose height above the bottom of the slide (which is shaved almost as thin as paper,) is so delicately adjusted that it stops the larger balls, and allows the smaller ones to strike against the thin wood. The sensitive finger of the manipulator readily discerns the striking of a ball against this part of the slide. If he feels it he knows that he must raise the slide and allow one of the smaller marbles to escape, inasmuch as the latter calls for no article of value.

The “cappers” are useful in this as in all similar games. They serve to stimulate the interest of the players and revive their confidence when it begins to fail. Of course, when a “capper” is playing, the operator shakes the box until he knows from the absence of pressure upon the thin edge of the slide that one of the larger marbles will escape by raising the same. He takes out the ball, and hands his confederate the valuable prize for which the number calls.

This is a favorite game for playing “doubles or quits,” or “represent.” In fact, sometimes more money is made in this way than by the regular sale of chances.

I was using this device on one occasion in company with a partner. The game is a difficult one to work, and I was not an expert. The result was that the wrong ball escaped, and a sucker won a twenty dollar prize. I was much chagrined, and endeavored to shift the responsibility of the loss upon my partner, by telling him that he had signaled that the player was a “capper.” My partner followed the stranger and requested him to divide; on the ground that he had been the means of his winning. The countryman, however, smilingly retained the money, leaving my confederate to mourn.

The miniature race track is a game which resembles the “needle wheel” and other similar contrivances which have been already described. It consists of a wooden disc, about four feet in diameter, the outer rim of which is stationary, and within which revolves an inner wheel of the same material. The outer periphery of the disc contains a representation of the “judges’ stand” on a race track, from the center of which extends a line running toward the middle of the circle. On the inner revolving wheel are painted representations of, say, half dozen horses, each picture being accompanied by the name of some famous racer.

Players make their bets as follows: A set of paddles equal in number to that of the horses depicted on the inner wheel, and containing corresponding descriptions, are sold the bettors at a stipulated price each—usually from twenty-five cents to five or even ten dollars. The paddles having been sold, the inner wheel is set in motion, and when it comes to rest the player who has placed his wager upon the horse which is nearest the inner side of the line extending from the “judges’ stand” wins the pool, the percentage which the proprietor claims upon the operation of the apparatus having been first deducted.

It is easily seen that the owner of the machine incurs no risk, inasmuch as he always receives a percentage of the stakes, no matter which one of the bettors may prove to be the winner. This should be enough to satisfy the money-making instinct of any ordinary man, but the parties who run an apparatus of this kind are not ordinary men. They seek for still further advantage, and they obtain it through the manipulation of a concealed lever, which brings friction to bear at the centre pivot, in the same manner as has been already described in a number of similar contrivances. The result is, that if possible the proprietor allows no one to win. If, however, bets have been placed upon each of the half dozen horses, the manipulator has it in his power always to bring the inner wheel to a stand-still when the horse upon which the lowest bet has been placed is nearest the magic line.

The advantages arising from the employment of a “capper” in a scheme of this sort are too apparent to call for special elucidation. A confederate may bet upon a certain horse, and the proprietor always has it within his power to allow his accomplice to win.

This is a very simple contrivance, and used by small “fakirs,” who are content with very paltry winnings. It is an apparatus by which to measure the force of a blow. A dial, in the center of which is placed an arrow-shaped pointer, registers the number of pounds representing the strength of the striker’s arm. The “fakir” usually allows two blows to be struck for the small sum of five cents. At the back of the dial is a concealed spring, by means of which, through applying friction at the pivot on which the pointer revolves, the operator is able so to check the movement of the latter that it is impossible for the striker to record upon the dial any large number of pounds.

It is a common practice, too, for a “capper” to be standing around, who offers to strike, in connection with the stranger, to see who shall pay the five cents for the two blows. When his confederate strikes the machine the proprietor, by diminishing the friction at the pivot, suffers the pointer to make almost a complete revolution. When the “sucker” takes his turn, the friction is increased, and of course he is compelled to pay the stipulated nickel.

This contrivance is of so insignificant a character as hardly to merit description. It is worthy of mention only as showing the natural bent of the mind of men of this character, and of illustrating the contemptible schemes to which they will resort.

This is another confidence game, the success of which appeals not only to the avarice but also to the dishonest impulses of the dupe. The latter is induced to believe that he can gain a decided advantage over a sharper through the carelessness of the confidence man and the superior astuteness which he flatters himself that he possesses. Its operation calls for three small paper boxes, each of which has a false bottom, from which circumstance the trick has been given the name which appears at the head of this paragraph.

The man who intends to victimize any “sucker” whom he may be able to find, first exposes a bill of some large denomination, which he places in one of the boxes. He raises one of the covers and places the greenback inside, shutting down the top in such a way that a corner of the bill is left exposed apparently by accident. He then changes the relative position of the boxes and asks which one of the three contains the bank note, the guess to be made simply “for fun.” Of course, the greenhorn, who has seen the corner of the bill protruding from beneath the cover has no difficulty in locating its position. This may be done, perhaps, more than once. The next step on the part of the sharper is to produce a time piece, (e. g. a watch), which he assures his dupe is one of rare value, but which he is willing to dispose of at a comparatively nominal price, say, $50. He then takes a bill of a large amount—possibly $100—from his pocket and places it inside one of the boxes. He next shuffles the boxes about, apparently with the intention of confusing the dupe as to the precise position of the one containing the bill. The latter, however, feels fully satisfied that he can locate the box in question, for the reason that he feels sure that he sees the corner of the note protruding from beneath the cover.

The sharper then tells the “sucker” that he will sell him the “chronometer” for the agreed price, which, he says, is ridiculously low, and will also give him a gratuitousgratuitous chance to guess which box contains the bill. The dupe thinking that he knows precisely the box in question, pays no attention whatever to the watch, his attention being centered on the money. He assents to the proposal and a transaction which, on its face appears to be a legitimate sale is concluded. The money is paid and the utterly worthless watch is handed over. Then the eager dupe guesses which of the three boxes contains the bill. The cover is removed and nothing is seen. The reason is that just outside the false covers the confidence man has pasted the corner of a fictitious greenback, the appearance of which misleads the dupe, while the actual treasury note is safely in the sharper’s pocket, or in one of the other two boxes.

This is a simple little contrivance, usually operated by small “fakirs,” yet I have known from sixty to seventy dollars a day to be made therefrom on circus and fair-grounds. Its construction may be readily understood on an examination of the diagram. The lower line represents the support on which rests a frame, composed of two uprights, and connected at the top by a cross-piece. From the centre of the latter hangs a string, at the end of which is a wooden ball, lettered “C.” In the centre of the lower support there is placed a triangular pin, lettered “D” on the diagram.

Those who wish to try their luck pay twenty-five cents for the privilege of swinging the ball. The player stands in front of the frame and throws the ball from him. If, as it swings back it overturns the peg, he receives back his twenty-five cents, together with a dollar. If, unfortunately, he overturns the peg as the ball moves from him, he loses.

In order to guard against the happening of the former catastrophe, the ball is usually slightly deflected toward either the right or left as it leaves the hands of the player. If the uprights remain perfectly perpendicular, the chances are that the ball, on its return, will strike the peg through the operation of the law of gravitation. Just here is where the operator does a little “fine work.” The uprights are always made a little loose, so that by a very slight pressure from the shoulder on the part of the manipulator, at the point “A,” they may be bent from a perpendicular position to that indicated by the dotted line B. The inevitable result is that when the ball swings back, the force of gravity draws it on one side of the peg, and the unfortunate speculator sees that he has lost the money which he paid for the privilege of throwing it.

This game, at first blush, appears to be so perfectly “square,” that the assistance of the “capper” is rarely needed, although sometimes they may be employed to advantage.

Of all the devices which the fertile brain of the confidence operator has originated, it may be questioned whether any is more ingenious in conception or has reaped a richer harvest for the scoundrels who have operated it than has the “gold brick swindle.” Notwithstanding the fact that the secular press throughout the country has, for years past, repeatedly directed public attention to the general nature of this method of fraud, yet even in the present year of grace the newspapers are month after month called upon to chronicle new exploits of the same character, and to record the names of fresh victims.

These journals, however, have never thoroughly ventilated the scheme in all its details, and in their description of the tactics employed by the operators they not infrequently draw largely upon their imagination, substituting fiction for fact. The victim himself is often restrained, by a sense of shame, from unfolding the full depth of his credulity, not more than fifteen per cent. of the dupes ever making their losses public. The author believes that the present exposure is the first authentic recital of the methods of this class of sharpers ever given to the public from a reliable standpoint.

To perpetrate the fraud successfully, the co-operation of at least three confederates is essential, of whom two must be gifted with some dramatic power. Some little cash is also required, it being necessary to procure a sample of filings of refined gold, one or two nuggets, and a “brick,” or bar, of some thirty pounds in weight, composed of brass and copper, costing about twenty-five cents per pound.

The first objective point is the selection of a victim. He must be a man whose resources are of such a sort as to enable him to produce, at short notice, a considerable amount in ready cash. It is not considered wise to deal with a man who may find it necessary to ask for accommodation at his bank, inasmuch as such action on his part might result in the institution and prosecution of numberless inconvenient inquiries by the bank officials. Incredible as it may appear, it is the literal truth that in choosing a “mark,” the confidence operators frequently have recourse to a reputable business man in the community, who furnishes the swindlers with what is known, in slang phrase, as a “pointer” concerning the resources and personal characteristics of the prominent men in the neighborhood. In such a case, the party furnishing the information is always fully informed as to the purpose for which it is desired, and is promised a stipulated percentage of the dishonest gains, should the fraud be successfully consummated. The inherent villanyvillany of such a transaction is well calculated to make the reader recoil in disgust, if not in horror. The author, however, has been told by men who have successfully perpetrated the fraud, that men of unblemished reputation, occupying high positions in social, professional, or commercial circles, some of them even filling posts of responsible trust in public life, have been personally paid in the presence of his informants, the notes which constituted their agreed proportion of the money obtained from the wretched dupe whom they had assisted in defrauding.

The victim having been thus carefully selected and located, the next step is to excite his cupidity. The ordinary modus operandi is substantially as describeddescribed below.

One of the confederates, attired as a miner from Mexico or the far West, calls upon the party chosen at the latter’s residence. Every detail of his appearance is attended to with the utmost care, from the seemingly sun-browned face, the apparent result of years of honest toil in the open air, to the well-worn, patched trousers carelessly tucked in the large, coarse, dusty boots. A battered cowboy’s sombrero is negligently perched upon the head, and around his waist is drawn a buckskin money belt. Having gained the presence of his prospective dupe, the pretended miner from the rude camps of “the Rockies” presents a paper on which is written, in sprawling characters, the victim’s name. For the purpose of illustration any name will answer; let us suppose that it is Thomas Jones. After he has handed this paper to the individual in question, the confidence man (who feigns illiteracy and pretends to be entirely destitute of worldly wisdom) simulates acute disappointment at discovering that he is not the Tom Jones for whom he had been looking. He draws out an old red cotton handkerchief and wipes his eyes, as he sinks, apparently exhausted, into a chair. Naturally the sight of so quaint-looking an individual awakens the interest of Mr. Jones, and his simulated fatigue and grief arouse his curiosity, if not his sympathy, and he asks the cause of his distress. “No, no,” the sharper answers, “You’se not the Tom Jones I knows; and we’s come so far, and the Indian’s so sick he can’t tote the gold no furder. And Tom Jones he was to give us the paper money.” And here the pretended miner permits his feelings wholly to get the mastery of him, and he bows his head in deepest sorrow. Mr. Jones would be either more or less than human if, after this, he did not seek for further information. “What Indian? What gold? What paper money?” are among the questions which rise to his lips. The confidence man hesitates for a moment, and if there are any other persons in the room requests that the latter withdraw. Then he says to Mr. Jones, with the air of one imparting a great secret: “You looks honest, and I’ll tell you. We’se got a heap o’ gold, me and the Indian; and we’s looking for Tom Jones, cause he’s got lots o’ paper money, piles o’ paper money, locked up in an iron box. And now I can’t find him. I could make him and all his chillen rich.” “Where did you get the gold?” asks the now deeply interested Mr. Jones. “We’se tooken it out o’ the mine, way down in Mexico.” “Where is it?” pursues Jones. “The Indian, he’s got it,” replies the miner. “And where is the Indian?” “Oh,” answers the sharper, “he’s down to the big camp, back over there (pointing), with the house built over the water (a bridge). He’s sick, and couldn’t come no furder.”

It usually occurs to Mr. Jones at this stage of the conversation that he has been strangely unmindful of the duties of hospitality, and he directs that some refreshment be prepared and set before his guest. While this is being done, the host, who has by this time become very urbane, tells the stranger that he (Jones) is a wealthy man; that he owns lands and stock and property of various descriptions, and that he has “paper money, lots of it;” that it is therefore unnecessary for the miner to seek for the other Mr. Jones, as he can do business with him. To this proposal, however, the unsophisticated miner refuses to assent. He wants to see “his” Mr. Jones, and he expresses his intention of going on to the next town, where he professes to believe that he can find tidings of the whereabouts of that mysterious individual. Before he takes his departure he promises, in compliance with the oft-repeated request of his host, that in case he fails to find the man of whom he is in quest he will return.

It is a very common practice, in working this scheme, for the swindler, shortly before leaving his victim, to take from his belt a small nugget, which he hands to the intended dupe, with the request that he take it to the nearest “medicine shop” (drug store), and after he has had some “smoke water” (acid) poured on it to carry it to the watchmaker’s (jeweler’s) and sell it for what it is worth, bringing back the proceeds. This shrewd move of the confidence man serves a double purpose: it convinces the victim that he actually has gold, and at the same time leads him to suppose that he is dealing with a man wholly inexperienced in the ways of the world.

After a day or two the swindler returns, attired as before. He has failed to find the Thomas Jones whom he was seeking, but has learned where he is. Will the Mr. Jones whose acquaintance he has so recently formed kindly write a letter to his old friend at his dictation? Of course Mr. Jones assents, and the epistle is indited to the mythical personage, something after the following manner:

“Dear Friend, Mr. Tom Jones:—Me and the Indian has come on with the first lot of gold.”

Here the pretended miner pauses, and asks his amanuensis if he will keep his secret. Jones, who is anxious to hear what is to follow, readily promises. The sharper, however, insists upon his taking an oath of secrecy, which is duly administered, the affiant sometimes, in his eagerness, raising both hands. This ceremony having been performed, the writing of the letter is resumed, its tenor running something after this fashion:

“We’s got all the rest hid away, and there’s ten millions worth of it. Now you come right off with the paper money, ’cause the Indian he’s sick, and me and him wants to go back to Mexico. Come right now. We’s got enough to make us all rich.”

The thought of $10,000,000 in the hands of an ignorant old miner and an untutored child of the forest excites the cupidity of Mr. Jones to a high degree. He chafes under the reflection that his chance of securing a considerable proportion of this vast sum is drifting away from him. He believes that his superior knowledge of the world and his familiarity with business customs and forms would render it a comparatively easy matter for him to make himself the owner of the lion’s share of an immense fortune, and he mentally curses the other Jones, from the bottom of his heart.

The letter having been completed, the miner is asked to give the address. He promptly answers, “Mississippi.” “Mississippi,” repeats Mr. Jones. “Why, man“Why, man, Mississippi is a big State, like this. Your letter will never reach him directed to Mississippi. What city?”city?” The sharper does not know any other address, and begins again to bemoan his hard lot at having come so far to no purpose, and “the Indian so sick.”

The “sucker” believes that this is his opportunity. He again assures his new friend that he himself will buy the gold from him, and after much persuasion prevails upon the confidence man to reveal the whereabouts of the “Indian” who has in his custody so much of the precious metal.

The result of this interchange of confidence is that the swindler and the “sucker” start together for the town where the “Indian” is supposed to be. Usually some point at a distance of perhaps 100 or 200 miles is chosen in which to locate this mysterious personage. Sometimes the confidence man buys the railroad tickets, sometimes the dupe; at all events, the fares are paid and the pair start for their point of destination.

On arriving at the place named, the two confederates (who have usually been apprised of the hour of their arrival) are there at the railway station, and carefully note the signal given by the “miner.” If the latter raises his hat, they know that everything is proceeding satisfactorily. If he shakes the lapel of his coat, they understand that “the jig is up,” and that they had better “take quick steps and long ones.” Sometimes the information is conveyed by means of an umbrella or stick. If the same is carried across the shoulder, “all is well”; if as a walking cane, there is “danger ahead.”

It is needless to say, that of these two confederates one is the mysterious “Indian.” The other is what is technically known as a “trailer,” whose duty it is to follow the “sucker” wherever he goes, keeping him continually in sight and noting his every movement.

Immediately upon receiving the pre-arranged signal at the station, the first confidence man and his victim now repair to the spot in the woods whither the “Indian” has gone. On reaching the locality the bar is exhumed from the hiding place in which it had been previously buried. The “redskin,” whose “make-up” has been as carefully arranged as that of the “miner,” corroborates the statement that the gold is there, and Mr. Jones is given a glimpse of the glittering but spurious metal.

If the latter should go to a drug store and purchase a bottle of acid, with which the supposed gold may be tested, the services of the third confidence man are called into requisition, but he himself is kept carefully in the background. When the dupe procures the necessary acid, the “trailer” buys a precise duplicate of the bottle. The contents of this latter bottle, however, are poured out and replaced by water.

When the victim returns to the spot on which he has left the “Indian” and the supposed “miner,” the latter has already received from his confederate the bottle of water, identical in size, appearance and label with that which the dupe has in his pocket. “Mr. Jones” is informed that the “Indian” has no objection to the pouring of “smoke water” (acid) upon the “brick,” but that he is fearful of being put to sleep through the administration of “sleepy water” (chloroform). This ingenious story satisfactorily accounts for the request which the sharper makes that “Mr. Jones” shall hand the bottle to him, in order that the “Indian” may receive the acid from the hands of his friend.friend. This suggestion appears reasonable, and the eager dupe promptly turns over his bottle to the “miner,” who easily substitutes therefor his own previously prepared bottle of water, which is poured upon the composition, and of course without effect. The dupe now feels tolerably certain that the bar shown him is of genuine gold. In order to satisfy him completely, however, the confidence man produces an augur and brace, which he hands to the dupe with a request that the latter bore into the “brick” and carry off the filings in order to have them assayed. As soon as a sufficient quantity of filings has been obtained, the sharper places them in a piece of paper torn off from that which the “brick” has been wrapped, and ostensibly hands them to Jones. As a matter of fact, the latter does not receive the borings which he believes that he does, the swindler dexterously substituting at the critical moment, a package similar in appearance, but containing filings of refined gold with which the scoundrelsscoundrels have taken the precaution to provide themselves.

The assay naturally shows gold of from 18 to 20 karat fineness, and Mr. Jones is now quite ready to make the purchase. He goes to his bank, draws his money, and returns to the “Indian” and the “miner.” The bar is weighed and its value is computed. Mr. Jones then asks how the money is to be divided. “Why,” replies sharper number one, “into three piles; one for you, one for me and one for the Indian.” This arrangement is eminently satisfactory to the “sucker,” who has probably already attempted to defraud his companions by means of a false computation, and who now thinks that he sees his way clear to make a purchase of pure gold at about two-thirds of its value.

The money having been paid over, the brace of confederates at once take their departure for parts unknown and Mr. Jones returns to his home laden down with a ponderous mass of metal worth about $9, but for which he has paid many thousands.

Another favorite method of perpetrating the swindle is as follows: Two confederates repair to the farm of some wealthy man and at a chosen spot bury one of the bars of spurious gold. A chart showing a “lay of the land,” is then carefully prepared and so treated as to give it the appearance of antiquity. All preparations having been carefully made, the confidence men drive up to the residence of the intended dupe, and after some conversation in the course of which they are at pains to satisfy themselves that he is the individual for whom they are looking, they inform him that they have learned that there lies buried upon his farm a mass of gold of great value. Some plausible story is invented to account for their having come into possession of this information. The chart is now produced, and the farmer is surprised to see so correct a diagram of his property. The spot where the “brick” has been buried is carefully and accurately located upon the plat.

This appeal to the avarice of the intended victim rarely fails to accomplish the end desired. He is anxious to commence digging for the precious metal without delay. The swindlers allow him to conduct the boring himself. Operations having been begun, in due time the spade or pick of the digger strikes the bar, whose glittering appearance arouses every instinct of cupidity in the breast of the countryman. The sharpers at once offer to sell out their interest to him for comparatively one half of the value of the supposed gold. The same tactics, substantially, with regard to testing and assaying the metal are resorted to which have been already described. The value of the “find” is computed, the “sucker” pays over his money, and the confidence man leaves him to repent of his folly at his leisure.