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i Copyright, 1013 by the Star Company. Great Britain Rights Reserved. No. 22 of a Series of Remarkable Revelations by Sophie Lyons, the “QUEEN OF THE BURGLARS” 4 WHY CRIME DOES NOT PAY- Clever Criminals I Have Kjnown zss “ Gentleman George,” the Most Des* perate of Burglars; “Sheeney Mike,” Who Robbed Stores to Order; Chauncey Johnson, the Ingenious Bank Thief; “French Sophie Lyons. Gus” Kindt, Who Organized a Crime Trust and Other Notorious Citizens of the Underworld “The burglars lolled at ease around the table, gorging themselves with food and drink. The young wife, in her night gown, pa!*;, and shaking with fright at the desperadoes’ harsh commands and their menacing pistols, waited on them with hands dripping blood where her rings had been wrenched ofF. Her trembling, pajama-clad husband opened wine, lighted matches, and executed all the ridiculous orders the ingenuity of his tormentors could suggest.” Written by Sophie Lyons Copyright, 1913, by the Star Company. HE boldest, most desperate criminal I evqr knew—a man who would stop at nothing to gain his dishonest ends —was George Ellwood, the burglar who for year* terrorized all the large cities by his audacious and often fiendish crimes. "Gentleman George” we used to call him—why I don’t know, for such a name ill became a man who never broke Into a bouse without murder In his heart and a loaded revolver in his hand. Stealing alone could not satisfy his depraved nature and bis crimes were invariably marked by the most outrageous cruelties and often by murder. There was nothing ingenious about the crimes committed by "Gentleman George." He and the men who worked with him were far more skilful with their guns than with their drills and Jimmies. They relied on brute force, on the terror of their vic tims and on their reputation for shooting to kill on the slightest provocation and often when there was no necessity for shedding blood. "Gentleman George’s" methods were as different from those of thieves like Lang don Moore as night is from day Moore never shot a man in his life and would never have anything to do with a crime when violence was liable to be necessary. He relied on his brains to outwit society. Ellwood depended on brute force, which often took the form of the most fiendish cruelties. "Gentleman George" had a perfect mania for doing all sorts of daring, eccentric deeds, such as no other burglar would dream of attempting Just what his erra tic nature would prompt him to do next was a question that kept both the police and the underworld continually guessing. Many criminals who could see only fool hardiness in his actions thought him in sane, but Ellwood always insisted that there was method In his apparent madness "It pays to do things no other burglar would do,” he once said to me "If the police and public think I'm insane the more they’ll stand in awe of me and the easier it will be for me to get away with my booty.” A Detroit banker was returning home late one night from his club He had mounted the steps of his home and was fumbling for his latchkey when, to his amazement, the door swung open and he saw facing him in the dim light of the hall two masked men. One of them, as was later proved, was "Gentleman George"; the other, a favo rite comrade of his, Joe Whalen. Ellwood whipped out a big revolver and shoved the muzzle under the astounded banker's nose. “Good evening," said "Gentleman George,” as coolly as if this meeting were the most natural thing in the world, "weve been waiting for you." Before the banker realized what was happening he found himself b„und hand and foot to a chair in his own library. Across the table the two burglars puffed away in comfort at expensive cigars and leered at their victim's plight Presently “Gentleman George" opened up his bag of plunder and began spread ing the pieces of jewelry aud silverware before the banker's eyes, making the while sarcastic comments on their cheap ness. "Paste,” was his comment on a diamond necklace. The spoons he declared were "plated.” A gold watch was one "Mother Mandelbaum wouldn't give ten cents for." “A nice lot of junk to be found in a wealthy banker’s home!” was his wither ing remark as he completed the inven tory. "I shall have to trouble you to write a check for the difference between what there is here and what my friend and I ought to have for the night's work.” He pulled open a drawer of the library table, took out a check book and wrote a check payable to bearer for one thousand dollars. Then he released the banker’s fight hand and pressed a pen into his twitching fingers. "Sign that!” growled the desperado, pressing the muzzle of his gun against the banker's temple; "and if you stop pay ment on it or make any complaint to the police we'll come back and murder you and your family in your beds." The check signed, the burglars tied the banker up again and returned to the en joyment of their fragrant Havanas and an assortment of expensive wines and liquors which they had selected from the side board. Dawn was close at hand before this strange party broke up. The burglars gave their victim a few parting threats and walked out of the front door like gen tlemen—the bag of loot under Whelan’s arm, the check for 11,000 in Ellwood’s pocket. Servants discovered the banker's plight a few hours later. So deep was the im pression the burglars' threats had made upon him, however, that he swore his household to secrecy and made no effort to stop payment on the check or notify the police. It was several years later, when Ellwood was under arrest for an other crime, that the banker confessed what had happened to him. “Gentleman George” was fond of good things to eat and drink—so fond that when he had finished looting some man sion of its cash and Jewelry he could rarely resist the temptation to sit down in the dining room and enjoy as sump tuous a repast as the larder afforded. One night he and Whalen entered a house in a fashionable section of St. Louis where lived a young man and his bride of a few weeks. The couple had Just re turned from their honeymoon, and the wedding presents with which thetr home overflowed were what had attracted the burglars' attention. The husband awoke to find the two men in his room. He put up a good fight, but was quickly overpowered, tied, gagged and locked in a closet. The burglars then turned their atten tion to the wife, who, by this time, was nearly fainting from fright. In the most brutal manner they stripped her fingers of their rings and tore the diamonds from her ears. Dragging her from the bed, they tied her securely to a radiator and proceeded to ransack the house for valu ables. When they had filled their bags with as much plunder as they could safely carry, they proceeded to the dining room to get a little supper Suddenly what he thought an unusually bright. Idea struck "Gentle man George," Why not make the newly weds, whose unwelcome guests they were, serve them with food and wine 7 They hurried upstairs, unbound their victims and marched them to the dining room at the point of their revolvers. No stranger scene than what followed was ever set anywhere The burglars lolled at ease around the table, gorging themselves with food and drink. The young wife, In her nightgown, pale and shaking with fright at the desperadoes' profanity and their menacing pistols, waited on them with hands that dripped blood where her rings had been wrenched off Her trembling pajama-clad husband opened wine, lighted matches and executed all the ridiculous orders the Ingenuity of his tormentors could suggest. As remarkable a character as “Gentle man George." but in an entirely different way, was the burglar I knew as "Sheeney Mike.” I told you in a previous article how he secured his release from a Massachusetts prison by drinking soap and voter and by cutting an ugly gash in has side; but I did not go into details about the amazing methods which made him a unique figure in the underworld. His real name was Michael Kurtz. We called him "Sheeney Mike" because of his habit of squeezing every penny he could from the “fences" to whom he sold the diamonds and costly silks which formed his criminal stock in trade. He could make a closer bargain than anv other man I ever knew. ‘‘Sheeney Mike" was for years associated with the gang of clever burglars of which George Howard was the leader. This was one of the most desperate bands that ever operated in this country. Howard had long made a special study of safes and locks, and he held his place as chief through his expert knowledge of their mechanism. “Sheeney Mike” was a valuable member of this combination on account of his quickness in observing the peculiar construction of the buildings it was planned to rob and in pointing out their weak points. He was especially clever at secreting himself in buildings during business hours and later cutting through floors and partitions to get at his plunder. One of the ingenious schemes which originated in “Sheeney Mike’s" fertile brain was that of tying long threads a foot or two above the floor at various points in a store or warehouse. This obviated the necessity of long hours of tiresome watching to see what places the watchman visited during the night and whether any of the employes were in the habit of re turning to the store after business hours. When “Sheeney Mike” planned a rob bery he would visit the store under some pretext or other and hide himself away in some corner until the place was locked up for the night and the watchmen had made their first rounds. Then he would stretch his threads around the place, go back to the hotel and go to bed. Before daybreak he would rise and make, his way into the store again. An inspection of the threads—which were broken and which were unbroken— would give him a pretty clear idea of what had been going on there during the night, and he would lay his plans for the robbery accordingly. "Sheeney Mike” was never a bank bur glar, but made a specialty of robbing jewelry and silk stores. While Howard and the rest of his band were engaged in some bank campaign he would devote his attention to the peculiar crimes which he knew how to plan and carry out more him a liberal share of skilfully than any other thief. In some of the most daring of these ventures he had no one to assist him—except a few truckmen, who were, as a rule, entirely ignorant that the goods they were hired to cart away were being stolen. "Sheeny Mike” sel dom made a haul amounting to less than $6,000. He sold ail his stuff to “Mother" Mandelbaum and a few other noted “fences." Most of his crimes were commit ted to order—that is, the "fences" pointed out certain goods they wanted, and Mike made his terms in advance for steal ing them "French Gus" Kindt was another burglar who, like "Sheeny Mike,” applied shrewd business methods to crime. He was a fa mous key-fitter, and there w-as always the keenest rivalry be tween him and a burglar called "Dutch Dan” over which was the more expert In this line. But Kindt’s reputa tion in the underworld rested chiefly upon his ability as a maker of burglar's tools. The tools he made were generally considered better than those of any other man—with the possible exception of Mark Shmburn. So many burglars came to him to buy tools that Km.dt final ly conceived the idea of renting them out on a percentrge oasis. The tools remained Kindt's property, the burglars who took them, agreeing o pay everything they stole. It was, you see, a veritable “ crime trust" which he had formed. As Kindt was a shrewd judge of human nature and would supply his tools only to the most capable men, he soon was getting in this novel way a large, steady income, with very little risk to himself. It was generally thought impossible to cheat Kindt out of what he regarded as his rightful due. No matter how far away from him the robbery was he was sure to hear of it, and to put in a claim for his share at the first opportunity. As I have already said many times, Harry Raymond and Mark Shinburn were the cleverest burglars who ever blew open a safe. In previous articles I have traced the history of their surprising careers, but, if I remember right, 1 did not mention an amusing incident in which they figured once when they were trying to get some friends of theirs out of jail. Raymond and Shinburn were the leaders of the desperate gang which robbed an ex press car on the New York Central Rail road and got away with $100,000. All the express robbers escaped except Ike Marsh and Charley Bullard. They were arrested in Canada, and, after their extradition, were lodged in the jail at White Plains, N. Y. Raymond and Shinburn at once put their heads together to get them out. As a first step they engaged a lawyer— ex-Recorder Smith, of New York City— and paid him a retainer of $1,000. Smith put the money in his pocket, and with Raymond and Shinburn started for White Plains to have a talk with the prisoners. Before they reached their destination Smith found to his amazement that dur ing the journey his pockets had been picked. The one thousand dollar fee he had just accepted was gone—and so were his gold watch and chain! Raymond always denied having robbed the lawyer, but the twinkle in his eye when he told the story made me some what incredulous. “Anyway,” he used to' say, “it was a waste ol good money to hire a lawyer. In less than a week we had Marsh hnd Bul lard out of that jail without any legal as sistance, and all it cost us was a night’s hard work.” And that is really what happened. The White Plains jail was a dilapidated old structure. One dark, stormy night Ray mond and Shinburn, with the assistance of Billy Forrester and some other thieves, tunnelled through its rickety walls and freed not only Marsh and Bullard but ten other prisoners. This was an exploit in which Shinburn always took a peculiar pride. “I have broken out of more jails than I can re member,” he once said to me, “but that was the only time I ever broke into one.” A man almost as shrewd as Shinburn or Raymond, as close-fisted as “Sheeney Mike" or “French Gus," and as audacious as “Gentleman George" was Chauncey Johnson. He was not a burglar but a “bank sneak," and in this exacting line of daylight thievery he had no superior and few equals. One of his earliest feats was the theft of a bundle containing $85,000 worth of bonds from a woman prominent in New York society. Johnson saw this woman leave the bank for her carriage with the bonds in her hand. He was prepared for just such an opportunity. Stepping behind a door in the bank he quickly exchanged his coat and hat for an ink-stained linen coat and a skull cap such as bookkeepers wear. Thrusting a pen behind his ear he followed the woman to the street. Just as she was entering her carriage he stepped up to her and said politely: “The cashier finds he has made a slight mistake in re cording the numbers of your bonds. May I take them back to him for just a moment?” Thinking that, of course, he was one of the bank clerks, the lady handed over the pre cious package without the slightest hesitation. Johnson returned to the bank, took off his simple but effective disguise and disap peared with the bonds by an other door. His victim waited patiently for fifteen minutes — then, when it was too late, she told her troubles to the bank officials and learned how she had beefi duped. At another time Johnson counterfeited the appearance of the cashier of an express company so exactly that he was able to slip in behind the desk of this official while he was at lunch and walk away with several thousand dollars in plain view of all the clerks in the office. , Once when a large city bank vault was open for the deposit of boxes from brokers’ offices, Johnson made his way into the bank as a broker’s clerk, hung up his cap with consummate coolness, stepped into the vault as if his right to enter was be yond all question, and walked out again bearing a box on his shoulders containing $60,000 worth of bonds. When a reward was offered for the return of some of this plunder he personated an attorney repre senting the thief, and actually obtained the amount put up for the recovery of the stolen property. One of his most remarkable thefts was effected by following the president of a New York national bank who was carry ing a package of bonds amounting to $125,- y 000. When the president entered the bank he laid the package for a moment on his desk while he stepped to a closet to hang up his overcoat. As soon as his back was turned Johnson snatched up the package and successfully made his escape. Johnson can probably claim, with truth, that he has entered more banks than any other sneak thief, living or dead, and stolen a greater amount of money. He drew y * $37,810 in one lump from the Bank of New York by watching the movements of the bank messenger, who had the money in charge. When this messenger was called away for a moment to another part of the bank he laid his small canvas bag, contain ing over $37,000, on an unoccupied desk. When he returned a few moments later the bag was missing and so was Johnson, who had contrived to reach it and carry it off under his coat. All the men I am telling you about here to-day were master criminals. If anybody could make crime pay surely they could. But how did they succeed? “Gentleman George” Elwood was shot to death while trying to fight his way out of a Rhode Island prison where he was serving a twenty-five-year sentence. Harry Ray mond and Chauncey Johnson died paupers, and so did “French Gus” Kindt. Death came to end “Sheeney Mike's long suffering in the charity ward of a New York hospital. Even Mark Shinburn, the “King of Burg lars," to-day has nothing to show for all the millions he stole. You see, it’s the same old story—one that’s brought home with increasing em phasis by the career of every criminal I can mention—CRIME DOES NOT PAY; it never has paid any one in the long run, and it never will. HOW HE STOLE THE BONDS. 1 —lohnson saw the woman -*■ leave the bank for her car riage with the package of bonds in her hand. O —He quickly exchanged his " coat and hat for an ink- stained linen coat and a skull cap such as bookkeepers wear. O —Thinking he was one of the bank’s clerks, she hand ed over the bonds without ques tion when he said there had been a mistake in the numbers. l4 —Johnson coolly walked * back into the bank, removed his simple but effective dis guise, and disappeared with the bonds by another door. SOPHIE LYONS. ====== I How Long Are We Young ? By Dr. Hugo Kirsch. HILE this is an age of suc cess-making, man attains success more slowly than he did in previous generations. This is because he retains his youth longer and the dividing line of old age has been moved twenty years farther on. Our grandfathers considered a man middle-aged at thirty, and at fifty they placed him indubitably in the old men class. To-day a man is still looked upon as young at forty, and even after he lias considerably passed that period. Thereafter he is middle-aged until ne is well past sixty, and no intelligent person has the hardihood to class him as old until he is seventy. Napoleon con sidered his marshals who were over forty old men. He, like his con queror, Wellington, Mirabeau and Marat, and the English Pitt, had reached the height of his fame and power when he was thirty. Thack eray lampooned De Florae as a fool ish old man. because while he was thirty-five he still claimed to be young. “We have never had time to be young,” said Bonaparte of himself and of them. From childhood they passed into the gravity of responsi bility bearing manhood. Responsi bility aged them early, and at fifty they were Indeed old. But the tendency of life to-day is ^ to prolong youth and to place age afar off. At thirty a man still feels all the buoyancy of youth, its light- spiritedness and, to some extent, its lack of a sense of responsibility. This spirit and manner continue in most men until they have reached or passed forty-five years of age. It is only when he reaches fifty that a man alludes, or permits others to al lude, to himself as middle-aged. * One reason for the ability to say “stay” to youth and “stand back” to age is the growing tendency to live out of doors. A young man who has slept out of doors nine months of every twelve looks at forty-six like a youth of twenty-eight. The law yer’s and business man’s habit to take a Saturday afternoon off and to play golf has aided in this length ening the span of youth and mid dle age. There is no doubt that the cheap ness of the automobile, placing its * ownership within the means of those of moderate income, has done much/ to lengthen youth and to keep old age at a long distance. Its preva- ' lence is correcting the tendency tc < wear and tear of the nervous system that exists in the concentrated man ner of city life, especially in the business districts.