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A ■■ 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