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Copyright, 1913, by th** Star Company. Great Britain Rlghti Reserved.
WHY CRIME DOES NOT PAY-
No. 20 of a Series of Remarkable
Revelations by Sophie Lyons, the
QUEEN OF THE BURGLARS”
“Oh, chief!” I cried, sinking to my knees and raising my hands as my babies did when they said tbeir prayers; “lock
me up, or do whatever you wish with me, but please let thia poor old man go. He has done nothing wrong, and I
swear by all that is good and holy that I never saw him before to-night.”
How the Criminal, When
Hard Pressed by the
Police, Tries to Hide Be
hind the Respectability
of Honest Men and
Women and Often In
volves Perfectly Innocent
People in Serious
Trouble
sneer, "that this
‘lady,' as you call
her, Is the most
notorious thief out
side of jail.”
“You lie!” shouted
the fiery young
Southerner. And as
the words left his
mouth his right fist
landed on the point
of the detective’s
jaw with a force
that sent him
sprawling full length
on the turf.
At this the re
maining detective
leaped upon the
young man and when
he, too, went down
a half dozen uni
formed officers took
a hand in the strug
gle. I never saw
“Join us, Sophie," said Tom, “and we’ll
give you 20 per cent of the profits.” .
But I laughingly said I had all the
money I needed, and went my way, after
urging him to be careful and not take too
many chances. By the time I had trans
acted my business and returned to my
hotel I had almost forgotten my meeting
with Tom and the bank robbery he had
told me about.
I ate my luncheon leisurely and then
went to the writing room to finish some
letters. As I sat there attending to my
correspondence I noticed a man watching
me intently. Several times I changed my
seat to avoid his annoying gaze, but each
time he moved so that he could look di
rectly into my face. And finally I saw
that he was comparing my features fur
tively with what were evidently photo
graphs which he carried in his inside
pocket.
At last he walked over to the desk
where I was sitting and placed me under
arrest, saying that I was charged with
Sophie Lyons.
your pal, and now we’re going to find out
bow you robbed that bank this noon.”
If I had really been guilty I suppose I
should have had a great deal to say, but,
Innocent as I was, my tongue stuck to the
roof of my mouth, and I followed my cap-
tor out of the car in silence. The poor
minister, however, poured forth a torrent
of protests, but he was so excited that
they were hardly intelligible, and even if
they had been they would have done no
good. You see, the detectives were thor
oughly convinced that his venerable ap
pearance and clerical garb were only the
clever disguises of a desperate thief.
With no gentle hand the two detectives
bundled us into a patrol wagon and hur
ried us back to the police station I had
left only a few .hours before. The chief
was there, chuckling with satisfaction at
having caught Sophie just as she was mak
ing her escape with her cleverly disguised
confederate.
“Come, now,” he said, Araghly, “let’s
have the whole story before we lock you
Written by Sophie Lyons
Copyright 1913, by thf Star Company.
HE old adage which says that ap
pearances are often deceiving
holds good, T think, among crim
inals even more than among honest men
and women
Mark Shinburn owed hi^ remarkable
success in eluding the police to the fact
that in everything—dress, speech, man
ners and refined habits of living—he al
ways looked and acted the prosperous,
upright man of affairs And so It was
with the dapper Harry Raymond, with th„
sllk-hatted Langdon Moore, and with
scores of other notorious criminals 1
Save known. They looked anything but
the thieves they were On more than
one occasion detectives who had been
trailing them for months thought them
selves victims of a sorry mistake in iden
tity when they saw these clever men
dressed in the height of fashion and rub
bing shoulders on terms of equality with
the members of some well-known club or
the guests of a fashionable hotel.
“When you're the crookedest, Sophie,
try to look and act as if you were as
straight as the road to heaven.”
That »aK the advice given me back in
the days when I was graduating from my
girlhood trade of picking pockets into
more ambitious lines of crime. It was
Jimmie Hope, the Manhattan Bank rob
ber, if I remember right, who told me
that. His words made a deep impression
on me and my escape front arrest scores
ot times was due solely to following this
terse bit of advice.
But please don’t think for a minute
that 1 am gloating over all my evasions
of the laws of God and man. The mem
ory of them brings me only remorse—net
only for my own sake and my children's
sake, but because many of my escapes*
were achieved at the expense of humilia
tion and in some cases actual suffering to
perfectly innocent men and women.
1 have only regret for the way I de
ceived these kind-hearted, well-meaning
people into believing me an Innocent
woman who was being persecuted by the
police. It was all wrong—1 know that
now, but 1 can’t undo the harm. All 1
can do is hope that by telling you some
of these experiences 1 may help prevent
other Innocent people from becoming
dupes of criminals who seek in this way
to conceal their wrongdoing and escape
its consequences.
Just listen to the trouble I made for a
young Kentuckian once and you will be
more wary than perhaps you now are
about cultivating chance acquaintances
It was in Lexington. Ky., this hap
pened. 1 had been down in Tennessee
with a party of "bank sneaks." We had
had the worst of luck ever since we left
New York—Just missing arrest several
times and never once making a haul large
enough to more than pay our expenses.
To cap the climax, when we were com
pleting our plans for what looked sure to
be a very profitable robbery in Memphis,
the leader of the party was taken sud
denly and dangerously ill. It took almost
all the money we had left to arrange for
his care in a hospital, and when this was
done the rest of us scattered in four di
rections to await his recovery and, inci
dentally. to raise some ready money. *
1 took a train for Kentucky, accom
panied by the boy of the party—a young
man barely twenty-one—who within the
last two years had travelled the road
from honesty to crime by way of the
gambling hells.
We stopped off at Lexington from
necessity, not choice. For some reason
or other my telegrams to New York and
Chicago for funds brought no response
and we had between us barely enough to
pay expenses for a day or so at a second-
rate hotel.
A big race meet was in progress at Lex
ington and the town was crowded Al
though I was still a young woman, it had
been two or three years since I had
picked a pocket and until that afternoon
I had believed I was done forever with
this petty variety of crime.
The prosperous crowd of racegoers,
however, with their glittering studs and
scarfplns, their massive watch fobs and
bulging pocloetbooks, made my fingers
fairly itch with the old temptation, and
the desire to put my hands to stealing
grew all the stronger when I thought of
our nearly empty purses.
“Come, Jack,” said I to my companion,
"we simply must make some money, and
the only way 1 know of getting it is by
going through the crowd out at the track
this afternoon.”
Jack knew as little about picking
pockets as I did about flying. Unlike
most criminals, he had not started his
career in that kind of crime.
But as 1 intended to do most of the
work myself, I did not worry on this
score. Jack was eager to help, and he
was such a bright, quick-witted fellow I
knew I would have no difficulty in teach
ing him to do his part.
A clever pickpocket rarely works alone.
Wherever possible he is followed by a con
federate to whom he hands the valuables
as fast as he secures them. Thus, unless
the thief is actually caught in the act of
picking a pocket, he never has in his pos
session any stolen property. This is the
reason why the police find it so hard to
catch pickpockets.
It took nearly every cent we had to pay
our fare out to the race track and our ad
mission to the paddock, but it was worth
it, for no pickpocket could have asked for
a better opportunity than we found. The
grounds were packed with well-to-do
Southerners, and while they were craning
their necks to get a better view of the
ponies even a novice would have had no
difficulty in appropriating a large number
of pocketbooks and pieces of jewelry.
“Don’t let me get out of your sight,” were
my final instructions to Jack, "but on no
condition speak to me or pretend to take
any notice of me. If I should get into
trouble, leave town by the first train and
raise enough money on the booty you have
to get me a lawyer.”
What a rich harvest field that was for
my nimble fingers! There were few
policemen and, so far as 1 could see, no
detectives in plain clothes to worry about.
Five minutes after I got inside the gate 1
was robbing every one 1 could lay un
hands on, with all the deftness for which
1 had long been famous.
It was all a new experience for .lack, and
he was rather nervous. His lips were
twitching a bit and his eyes shining with
excitement when I quickly slipped my first
watch into his hand. But as he watched
me rob man after man without being de
tected his coolness returned.
•Long before the last race was run I had
handed Jack all the booty he could com
fortably carry, so 1 gave him the signal
that it was time to go. He followed me at
a safe distance to the obscure little hotel
where he had registered
"Not half bad for one afternoon’s work!”
said 1 with satisfaction as Jack emptied
his pockets in the seclusion of my room.
There were a dozen diamond studs and
scarf-pins, four or five gold watches and a
half dozen well-filled pocketbooks contain
ing in all between five and six hundred
dollars.
We divided the cash equally, cut the
empty pocketbooks into shreas and hid
the pieces in ti)e fireplace.
All the jewelry we wrapped in some
soiled linen and tied up in a pasteboard
box. We checked this package at the rail
road station and hid the brass check where
we could easily find it later on.
Jack was for returning to Memphis or
going on to New York at one?—but 1 said
ao. My success had only whetted my appe
tite for crime and 1 was determined to
return to that track the next afternoon
and try my luck again.
This was where f made a mistake that
came near proving disastrous. It seems
that Jack and I had not been the only
thieves who attended the races. Others
besides us had plied their trade so indus
triously that the track managers were be
sieged with indignant complaints from the
victims. The result was, although of
course we were unaware of it at the time,
that a score of keen-eyed detectives in
plain clothes were scattered about the
track on the following day.
The instant the cry of “They’re off!”
went up for the first race I edged my way
into the thickest of the crowd. Soon I
found what looked like an easy victim—a
man with a magnificent diamond hanging
loosely in his tie in the careless way which
is a standing invitation to thieves.
I was standing almost abreast of him.
With a quick thrust of one arm I drove
Che end of my parasol against his back.
He turned and as he did so I reached my
other hand out for his scarf pin
My fingers were actually touching the
diamond, when, not a dozen feet away, I
saw a detective staring hard at me, watch
ing my every move.
Like lightning I drew my hand back
and, turning to my intended victim, apolo
gized profusely for jostling him. Then,
without appearing to hurry, 1 moved away,
trying to lose myself in the crowd.
But It was no use. Wherever I went
that detective followed. Presently I saw
him pointing me out to two other plain
clothes men.
I was in a dilemma. If I tried to leave
the track I was almost certain to be ar
rested—and I probably would be if I re
mained. • There was no way of communi
cating with Jack without involving him
in the impending trouble, and I had to
rely on his intuition to let him know
something was wrong.
As 1 pondered ail these things Jimmie
Hope's advice flashed through’ my mind
and I at once determined to put it into
practice.
A good-looking, well-dressed young man
stood close by admiring the crowds of
fashionably gowned ladies. 1 felt his
glance run up and down my figure, rest
ing at last on my face with just the hint
of a smile of approval on his lips.
That was my cue to drop my parasol.
With a gallant bow the young man re
stored it to me.
“Thank you so much." I murmured
graciously. “I wonder if you could tell
me if ladies unescorted are served in the
restaurant over there.”
“No," he replied, just as I had felt sure
he would; "but I was just going to lunch-
son myself and would be delighted to have
you join me.”
I blushed and hesitated a minute before
accepting as if I felt a becomingly maid
enish doubt about the propriety of such a
proposal from an utter stranger. Finally
I took his arm and we strolled into the
restaurant.
We were hardly seated before the three
detectives entered and took a nearby table.
After a whispered conversation one of
them rose and hurried out.
As I afterward learned he went to police
headquarters to confirm his growing sus
picion that 1 was Sophie Lyons, by in
specting some of my photographs without
which no "rogues' gallery" in those days
was considered complete.
My gallant escort and I loitered through
the elaborate luncheon he ordered with
lavish disregard of expense. He was ex
ceptionally well bred and able to talk in-
tertainingly on a wide variety of subjects.
At last we left the restaurant, the two
detectives close at our heels. One of
them walked up to me and placed a brawny
hand on my shoulder.
“Come, Sophie, we want you," he said.
I drew back with a great show of fright
and indignation and turned on my escort
the most appealing gaze I could muster.
"Take your hands off!” he cried angrily.
"What do you mean by insulting a lady
in this way?”
“I mean,” said the detective, with a
a man fight so fiercely as he did in
resentment of this supposed insult to me.
It was fully twenty minutes before he
was finally overpowered and bundled into
a patrol wogan. His face and head were
bruised and bleeding from the blows of
the police clubs and all his captors showed
the cruel punishment his own fists had
inflicted.
I rou to the police station by his side,
orying all the way as if my heart would
break. It was not my own plight that
worried me but the fact that I had brought
so much trouble to a perfectly innocent
man.
Friends soon came to nis rescue, of
course, and he was released early that
evening. I got out the next morning,
portly form sprawling full length
thanks to Jack who retained a good law
yer and to the fact that no property which
could be identified as stolen was found in
my possession.
I have never laid eyes on that young
man since and do not know whether he
ever learned how he had been deceived in
me. If he ever did learn my identity I
hope his experience at the race track
taught him never to place foo much con
fidence in a chance acquaintance again.
Even more surprising was what hap
pened in St. Louis several years later
when the detectives took a highly respect
ed minister off the train, carried- him to
police headquarters, and subjected him to
all sorts of indignities simply because he
and I happened to be sitting in the same
seat and talking together.
This is how it happened: I had stopped
off in St. Louis for a day or so on a mat
ter of perfectly legitimate business.
Early one morning I went for a lit- *
tie walk. Whom should I meet at almost
the first corner I turned but Tom Lynch,
a well-known “bank sneak," with whom
1 had often worked, but who I supposed
was serving a long term in aq Eastern
prison. , '
“Why, Tom,” 1 said, “what on earth
are you doing here? I thought yo uwere
behind the bars for a long time to come.”
“Sophie," he said, “you ought to know
me well enough to know that they don't
make prison bars strong enough to hold
me once I make my mind up to breathe
the air of freedom.”
But I ignored his vanity and, instead
of inquiring how he had succeeded in re
ducing a ten years’ sentence to three,
said:
"Neve T "lnd how you got here. But
what are ju doing now that you’re here?”
Well, to make a long story short, after
considerable questioning Tom finally told
me how he and three other thieves whom
I knew well had their plans all made to
rob one of the largest banks in the city
during ther noon hour that very day.
complicity in the bank robbery Tom had
told me about. I accompanied him to the
police station willingly enough, thinking
that this was the easiest way of proving
my perfect innocence.
The chief of police himself was on hand
to try to wring what information he could
out of me. For two solid hours he coaxed
and threatened and bulldozed me in every
conceivable way.
When he found he could not shake the
bulwark of my innocence he announced
that, whether guilty or not, I was a sus
picious character, and would be locked in
a cell unless I promised to leave the city
at once. This being exactly what I was
intending to do when arrested, I readily
gave him my word of honor to board the
first train for Chicago.
They let me go to the Btation unaccom
panied, but while I was buying my ticket
1 saw the faces of two
detectives peering at
me from the door of
the station. This made
me think that they had
taken my story with
several large grains of
salt, and that they real
ly believed I was on
my way to join the men
who had robbed the
bank that noon.
The car I entered
was already well filled
and I took the only
seat which remained
entirely vacant. Pre
sently a venerable-
looking man- in clerical
garb entered and asked
if he might share the
seat with me. Of
course I said yes, and
by the time the train
started we were talk
ing religion, politics and
many other topics as if
we had known each
other for years. He
told me that he was a
Baptist minister on his
way to a church meet
ing in Illinois, and I—
well, I said I was a school teacher from
Arkansas, going to Chicago to take a kin
dergarten training course!
We were chatting away at a great rate
when the train‘made its first stop at a
little suburban station just inside the St.
Louis city limits. To my great surprise I
saw coming down the aisle the two detec
tives whom I had seen at the station. One
of them grabbed me by the arm and the
other took hold of the astonished old
minister.
“You see, you couldn't fool us, Sophie,”
said one of the detectives, as he pulled
me to my feet. “We’ve caught you and
that with patience one can find proofs
to support any pet habit or even little
vice. Now comes to the front a Carls
bad doctor who warns his colleagues
gravely against insisting on too well-
measured a diet. Especially is he aroused
against the false belief creeping into the
European war departments that on a
campaign soldiers can be fed on tabloids
which will contain in highly concentrated
form the nutritive qualities of a large
quantity of food
There are a large number of poisonous
products that are constantly being dis
charged by various organs of the body,
such as the pancreas, and it is necessary,
in order to keep up the health of the body,
that these should not be retained In the
intestines. But. Dr. Lorand points out,
the wave-like motion of the intestines is
primarily mechanical and peristalsis
up. How did you rob the bank and what
did you do with the money? It’s no use
keeping anything back, now we’ve got the
pair of you.”
"But I!m no thief—I’m a minister of the
gospel,” the old man cried.
“A minister! That’s the best I ever
heard,” laughed the chief. “You ought to
stick to your pulpit instead of trying to
walk away with a bank's money. Go a..aad
and search him, men. Perhaps some c!
those bonds are in his pockets now.
A burly patrolman seized the minister .3
silk hat and turned the lining inside out.
Two others grabbed the sleeves of hi.:
sombre frock coat and started pulling it
off. A sergeant, who aspired to bo chief
of detectives, tweaked his beard as if he
expected to find it false.
This was more than the poor old man
could stand. He was trembling in every
muscle and the tears were splashing down
his withered cheeks like rain. It was
more than my sympathetic heart could
stand, too,
"Oh, chief,” I cried, sinking to my
knees and raising my hands as my babies
did when they said their prayers, “lock
me up or do whatever you wish with me,
but please let this poor old man go. He
has done nothing wrong, and I swear by
all that is g#od and holy that I never saw
him before to-night.”
Incredulity was written on every line of
the chief’s hard face, and he was about
to wave me away to a cell when one of the
officers shoved before his eyes a Testa
ment, cardcase and bundle of letters which
they had found in the pockets of the “bank
robber's” frock coat. These proved con
clusively that the old gentleman was a
minister—the pastor of a well-known St.
Louis church.
I bear policemen no ill will because,
iike all other human beings, they fre
quently make mistakes. This is why I
do not undertake to describe their chagrin
on this occasion. It is sufficient to say
that the poor' old minister and I were
promptly Released and sent on our way
in cabs, with the contrite apologies of the
3t. Louis police ringing in our ears.
The fact that I was wholly Innocent
in this instance does not lessen the force
of the moral I am trying to bring ->ut—
that it is a dangerous thing to become too
intimate with chance acquaintances, par
ticularly when travelling. I know from
experience that every criminal when he
thinks he is hard pressed by detectives
a ill try to throw them off the track by
scraping an acquaintance with some hon
est man or woman, and that, if necessary,
he will not hesitate to involve these inno
cent people in trouble
ment, shoving the food along) cannot con
tinue unless there is some bulk of food
o nwhich it can take effect.
Hence follows the singular result that
if we ate only the food we ought to eat,
we should be worse off than if we ate a
great deal of material that has no nutri
tive qualities whatever. Vegetables, for
example, rarely have much nutrition, yet
they are among the most valuable aids to
digestion, because the cellulose undergoes
few changes and yet renders it easy for
the intestines to carry off products that
are no longer needed in the body, where
as meat and finely ground cereals are ab
sorbed by the body with but little residue.
The lobster, of the “lobster palace,” and
the “rabbit," of Wales, must therefore be
ranked as valuable aids to dietetics, an<^
those whose tastes run in those direc
tions may solace .themselves during the
subsequent attacks of indigestion with
the thought that they are doing them
selves good by not being too precise in
the selection of food material.
You lie,” my escort shouted, dealing the
detective a blow on the jaw which sent his
on the turf.
SOPHIE LYONS.
Why Lobsters and ‘Rabbits’ Aid Digestion
M EDICAL information, like many (which is an opening and closing move-
systems of philosophy, is emi
nently satisfying in one regard—