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Written by SOPHIE LYONS
No. 9 ol a Series ol Remarkable Revelations
by SOPHIE LYONS, Ihe Queen ol the Burglars
Copyright, 1913, by the Star Company.
O NLY one who has been, as t have,
for years behind the scenes at all
sorts of crimes can appreciate how
often every criminal is brought face to
face with the most startling surprises.
No matter hotv clever a robber is he can
never tell when arrest, serious injury or
death will bring his dishonest career to a
sudden end. And, even if he escapes these
fatal disasters, there are always a thou
sand and one chances which may develop
at any moment to spoil his carefully laid
plans and prevent his getting his plunder.
Most of these are things which it is abso
lutely impossible to foresee and guard
against. This is why only a small per
centage of the crimes which are attempted
ever succeed and why their success hangs
trembling in the balance until the very last
minute.
The brains we criminals expended in
saving some robbery from failure or in
escaping the consequences of our deeds
would have won us lasting success and
happiness in any honorable pursuit- used
as they were for crime, they brought us in
♦he end only disgrace and remorse. That
is the lesson which these experiences have
taught me and which I hope every reader
of this page will learn.
If there was ever a thief who planned
his crimes with greater attention to the
smallest details than Harry Raymond, the
man who stole the famous Gainsborough,
1 never knew him.
But even Raymond's painstaking care
was not proof against all the startling sur
prises which confronted him and his plans
were often completely ruined by one of
these unexpected happenings.
Raymond was always a restless man—
never content to remain long in one place.
When stories of the rich gold and diamond
mines in South Africa readied his ears, he
began to cast longing eyes in that direc
tion. Where there was so much treasure
he thought there surely ought to be an op
portunity to get his hands on a share of it.
He tried to induce Mark Shinburn to go
with him, but Shinburn had his eye on sev
eral big robberies nearer home and so Ray
mond set out alone. On the way he met.
Charley King, a noted English thief, and
the two joined forces.
Raymond hadn't been in South Africa
twenty-four hours before he learned that
a steamer left Cape Town for England
every week with a heavy shipment of gold
and diamonds on board. His next step was
to find out just how this treasure was
brought down from the mines.
As he soon learned, it came by stage
each week, Jjie day before the steamer
sailed. The bags of gold dust, and uncut
diamonds were locked in a strong box
which was carried under the driver’s seat.
There was only one other man on the coach
besides the driver—a big. powerful Boer,
who carried a brace of revolvers and a
repeating rifle and had the reputation of
being a dead shot.
There was just one difficulty in the way
—Raymond really needed a third man to
assist King and him. Among all the crim
inals in Cape Town whom he knew there
was none he could -trust and so he at last
decided to ask a wholly Inexperienced man
to join the party. The man he selected
was an American sea captain who had been
obliged to flee from his native land after
setting fire to his ship for -the insurance.
He was desperately in need of money and
was, therefore, only too glad of the oppor
tunity to share in the fortune Raymond
proposed to steal.
Raymond, with his customary cau
tion. studied flic proposition from
every angle. At last he was convinc
ed that he had provided for every
contingency which could possibly
arise to prevent his robbery of the
coach.
This was his plan—to stretch a
rope across some lonely spot in the
road and trip the horses. Before the
driver and the guard could recover
from their astonishment and extri
cate themselves from the overturned
coach, Raymond and his companions
would leap from their ambush and
overpower them.
Half way up a long hill down
which the coach would come, the
three men concealed themselves—
Raymond and the captain on one side
of the road. King on the other.
Around a tree on either side of the
road they fastened the rope with a
slip noose, letting its length lie loose
on the ground directly in the path
of the coach. Carefully loading their
revolvers, they settled dowu to wait
for its approach.
At last their ears caught the rum
ble of its wheels and presently the
four horses which drew the heavy
Vehicle and its precious contents ap
peared above the crest of the hill.
They were making good time on the
last lap of their long journey from
the mines.
t ‘On they came until the hccf. c*
ithe leaders were within a foot of
*'■ Raymond gave a shrill
whlstie^aud his companions stretched
(
Ihe rope tight across the road at a dis
tance of about two feet above the ground.
As the forward horses struck the bar
rier, they fell in a heap and Ihe ones be
hind came tumbling on top of them. The
wagon pole snapped like a pipe stem.
The heavy coach stopped short, reeled
uncertainly for a second—then keeled over
on its side, hurling both the driver and the
guard several feet away.
The three robbers sprang from their
hiding place and covered the prostrate
men with their revolvers.
As they did so one of the fallen horses
scrambled to his feet, broke the remnants
of the harness that clung to him and
dashed down the hill, furious with pain
and fear.
Not one of the robbers paid any heed to
lliis incident—for who would have sus
pected that a frightened stage horse could
interfere with tlieir carefully laid plans?
The driver was easily disposed of. but
the guard showed fight and it required the
combined efforts of the three tnen to bind
and gag him so that he could do no harm.
They were just knotting a piece of rope
around his struggling legs when a shot
rang out and a rifle bullet whizzed by their
heads—followed by,another and another.
An instant before the moon had broken
through the clouds. By its light they saw'
six sturdy Boer farmers advancing up the
hill, firing their repeating rifles as they
came.
Resistance was useless—they were out
numbered two to one and they had all been
in South Africa long enough to have a
wholesome respeot for a Boer’s marksman
ship.
Covering their retreat with a few shots
from their revolver* they took to their
heels. In the rain of bullets which was
falling around them it was suicide to think
of trying to take the heavy strong box
with them, and they had to leave it there
in the coach with all its treasure un
touched.
Raymond was completely mystified. He
and his companions had not fired a shot
In their struggle with the men on the
coach How had those Boer farmers who
lived in a house at the foot of the hill
nearly half a mile away, happened to be
aroused just. In time to spoil the robbery? •
The account the newspapers gave of the
robbery cleared up the mystery. It seemed
that, the frightened horse wfiich had
dashed down the bill had plunged through
the lattice'gate In front of the Boers’
house.
The crash of (tie woodwork and the
wounded animal's cries' of pain as he
struggled to free himself had awakened
the farmers. As they rushed out half
dressed to see what the trouble was the
moon shone out and revealed to them the
overturned coach on the hillside above
and the robbers struggling with the guard
and driver. ’
You see what a surprising -thing it alt
was and how' impossible it was for Ray
mond to have foreseen that anything like
this w'ould happen. But these two little
incidents—the runaway horse and the
moon’s sudden appearance—w'ero all that
was needed to snatch away $250,000 in
gold and diamonds just as Raymond
thought lie had it safely in his hands.
Even more surprising was what hap
pened when Tom Smith and I. with Dan
Nugent and George Mason, were trying
to rob a little bank down in Virginia.
The fact that the cashier and his family
lived on the floor ab6ve this bank made it
a rather ticklish undertaking.
There was, however, no vault to enter,
and the safe was such a ramshackle affair
that the men felt sure they could open it
without the use of a charge of powder. So
we decided to make the attempt
As Tom Smith had sprained his wrist in
escaping from a Pennsylvania sheriff a
few’ nights before, he was to remain on
guard outside the bank while 1 entered
with Dan and George and rendered what
assistance I could in opening the safe.
This was the first time 1 had ever been on
the “inside” of a bank burglary and I was
quite puffed up with my own Importance.
Dan opened one of the bank windows
with his jimmy and held his hands for
me to step on as 1 drew myself up over
the high sill. Then he handed the tools
to me and he and George climbed up.
The bank in which we found ourselves
was one large room. A door led into it
from the broad porch which extended a ong
the front of the building At the rear was
another door opening into a long passage
way, at the end of which was a staircase
leading to the cashier’s apartments over
head.
While the two men were looking the
safe over I unlocked the front door to pro
vide an avenue of escape In case we
should have to b°at a hasty retreat.
I also opened the door at the rear and
ppered into the darkness of the, passage
way. There was no sign of life—no sound
except the heavy breathing of the sleeping
cashier and his family in the rooms above.
I closed the door gently, for fear-the rasp
ing of the drills on the metal of the safe
would be heard.
Just then my quick ears caught the
sound of some one in the passageway. 1
tiptoed over to the door and pressed my
ear against it.
I had barely time to draw away from the
door before it opened wide and I stood
speechless with amazement at the ap
parition 1 saw standing there within an
arm’s longth of me.
I am not a superstitious wtoman. but
what I saw In that doorway set my heart
to thumping madly, and sent the cold
shivers up and down my back. And I am
not ashamed to confess how startled I
was, for Dan Nugent and George Mason,
the veterans of a hundred burglaries, later
admitted that nothing had ever given them
such a scare as this.
What we saw facing uS. like a ghost, was
a beautiful young woman. The filmy
white night robe she wore left her snowy
arms and shoulders bare and revealed her
bare feet.
Her face looked pale and ghastly in the
light of the kerosene lamp she carried
high In one hand. The mass of jet black
hair which crowned her head and hung in
it long braid down her back, made her
pallor all the more death like.
Her eyes were shut tight.
For a minute we stood blinking like
frightened children at this uncanny,
white, silent figure. Then, gradually, it
dawned on us that this apparition was the
cashier's eldest daughter, and that she was
walking in her sleep.
As we recovered our senses it didn't
lake us long to see what a dangerous situa
tion we were in. At an}’ moment our un
welcome visitor might aw'aken. By the
time we could bind
and gag her the rest
of the family might
discover her absence
and start in search of
her.
The girl looked so
innocent and helpless
and so strangely beau
tiful that for my part
I was heartily glad
when George Mason
nodded his head
toward the door to in
dicate that we would
better be going.
The two men climb
ed out of the window
and I made my es
cape by the front
door. The last I saw
of the sleep-walking
girl she was groping
her way across the
bank with slow cau
tious steps, still hold
ing the lamp high
above her head and
looking more < than
ever like a graveyard
spectre .
Whether anybody
except ourselves ever
knew’ what a strange
chance saved the bank
from robbery that,
night i never heard.
It was a costly ex
perience for us as, ac
cording to what we
learned later from the
newspapers, that safe
contained $20,000 in
cash.
Wje missed that
tidy little bit of
plunder just because
a young woman was
addicted to the habit
of walking in her
sleep.
And now another
instance—the very re
markable chain of sur
prises which resulted
in the murder of a
bank cashier, the
blackening of a dead
man’s reputation and.
finally, the imprison
ment to two desper
ate burglars for life.
For many years the
robbery of the bank
in Dexter, Maine, puz
zled everybody. This
was a job of national
importance because
Mr. Barron, the cashier of the bank, was
accidentally murdered, and the detectives,
after failing to get any clu'e to the burglars
buncoed the bank officials by inventing the
theory that the unfortunate cashier had
murdered himself!
They managed to fix up the books of the
hank in such a w’ay as to show some
trivial pretended defalcation which
amounted, as I remember it, to about
-ICG 111?.
“What we saw’ facing us,, like a ^host, was a beautiful young woman clad in
a filmy white night dress. Her face looked pale and ghastly in the light of thei
kerosene lamp she carried high in one hand; and her mass of jet black hair made
her pallor all the more deathlike. Her eyes were shut tight, and, except for the gen
tle rise and fall of her bosom, she might have been a marble statue.
“For a minute w'e stood blinking like frightened children at this uncanny white,
silent figure. Then gradually it dawned on us that she was the cashier’s eldest
daughter and that she was walking in her sleep."
J<ea
‘As the door opened the burglars and cashier Barron suddenly came face ihe slightest warn
ing. Barron stood paralyzed with astonishment as he peered into the masked face of the leader. Stain,
with perfect composure, struck Barron a quick blow with a slung shot, landing the weapon exactly in
the centre of Mr. Barron’s forehead.”
$1,100. On the strength of this barefaced
frame-up the memory of the poor cashier
kvas defamed, and the bank actually
brought suit against the widow for some
small sum.
The real facts 1 will now tell you. Jimmy
Hope, the famous bank burglar, first got
his eye on the Dexter Bank as a promising
prospect, and made all his plans to enter
the bank when, to his disgust, he was
grabbed for another matter, and given a
prison term. In Jimmy Hope’s gang was
an ambitious burglar named David L.
Stain, and Stain decided that there was
no reasftn why the Dexter Bank should
escape simply because Hope w r as serving »
sentence.
So Stain looked over the ground, and
decided to rob the bank with a little band
of his own, consisting of Oliver Cromwell
and a man named Harvey, and somebody
else, w hose name I do not now recall. They
selected Washington's Birthday because it
was a holiday, and there was every reason
to believe that nobody would be in the
bank.
Late in th« afternoon Stain and his as
sociates forced their way into the building
and sprung the lock of the back door of
the bank. The burglars stood for a mo
ment to put on their masks and rubber
shoes, and then Stain moved forw-ard to
ward the inner room of the bank where
the bank vaults were.
Just at the moment that Stain put his
hand on the door knob Cashier Barron on
the other side of the door put his own
hand on the inside, knob as he, unsuspect
ingly started to leave the inside room,
where he had been going over souls’ of the
books that were in the vaults.
As the door opened Dave Stain and
Cashier Barron suddenly came face to
face without the slightest warning. Bar
ron stood paralyzed with astonishment as
he peered into the masked face of the
leader. Stain, with perfect composure,
struck Barron a quick blow’ with a slung
shot, landing the weapon exactly in the
centre of Mr. Barron’s forehead.
The cashier dropped to the floor stunned
and Stain imagined that his victim’s skull
was crushed, or that, if the blow had not
been fatal, Barron would come to his
senses and make an outcry. In either case
the burglars realized that they had done a
bad job. Murder was not Intended, and
none of the gang had any stomach for
going on with the robbery, even though the
doors of the big vault stood invitingly
open.
After a few moments hasty consultation
the cracksmen picked up the unconscious
but still breathing form of the faithful
cashier, and laid it in the vault, and closed
and locked the big doors. Stain and his
gang made their way noiselessly out of
the building, strolling, one by one, through
the town, and out into the country, where
a span of horses were waiting for them.
They drove across country, keeping away
from the railroad, and made their escape
without leaving a clue of any kind.
When Cashier Barron failed to turn up
at home at supper time, a search was
made, and somebody went to the bank.
The cashier’s hat and coat were found in
the inner room, and a faint sound of heavy
breathing could be heard from the interior
of the closed vault. Blacksmiths were
hastily called, and after several hours
work succeeded in freeing the imprisoned
cashier—but although Barron was still
alive and breathing, his face was black
from his having breathed over and over
again the poisoned air ol the vault, and he
died without recovering consciousness.
Several years later a clue to the real
truth of the tragedy was picked up by a
newspaper reporter, who devoted several
weeks of painstaking work to piecing to
gether the scraps of evidence he was able
to collect. This reporter then had himself
appointed a Massachusetts State detec
tive, and arrested Stain and Cromwell,
brought them to Bangor, Maine, was able
to have them identified by several towns
people who had seen them in Dexter on
the day of the murder, and Stain and
Cromwell were both convicted of murder
in the first degree, and the conviction was
unanimously confirmed by the Supreme
Court of the State of Maine. They were
sentenced to life imprisonment.
I could go on indefinitely recounting
instances as surprising as any of these of
the unexpected things which are constant
ly happening to prevent criminals succeed
ing in their undertakings. But these which
I have mentioned are enough to show any
thoughtful man or woman how hazardous
and how profitless crime always is.
Success in crime is achieved only at tie
risk of life and liberty. In a few rare
cases the criminal escapes these penalties,
hut, even so, his ill gotten gains melt
rapidly away and bring him no lasting
happiness. And, as I have shown here to
day, a large percentage of the crimes he
undertakes yield him nothing for all the
time, thought and effort he has to give
them.
Each chapter of my own life as I am
now recalling it and the lives of all the
criminals I have ever known only give
added emphasis to the fact which I w f ant
to impress on you—that CRIME DOES
NOT PAY.
SOPHIE LYONS.
Sophie Lyon*.
The Most Famous and Successful Criminal of Modern Times,
Who Made a Million Dollars in Her Early Criminal Career
and Lost It at Monte Carlo, and Has Now Accumulated
Half a Million Dollars in Honorable Business Enterprises.
Copyright. 1913, by the Star Company. Great Brltatn Rights Reserved
Why Crime Does Not Pay—
| Startling Surprises That Confront Criminals—How
Unexpected Happenings Suddenly Develop and
Upset Carefully Laid Plans and Cause the Burglars’
Arrest or Prevent Their Getting Expected Plunder