Evening Star Newspaper, July 23, 1922, Page 53

THE SUNDAY STAR, WASfiINGTON, D. C, JULY 23 1922—PART 4. ' A Hundred-Thousand-Dollar Wiretap Inside Tips on the Way Writers - Concoct Their Mystery Tales If You Can Work a Charade, an Anagram or a Rebus Perhaps You May Be Able to Produce the Story With Thrills. BY JOHN PROSPER. 1YSTERY STORY, to state a commonplace, is a puzzle stretched out to fill half a or a dozen magazine pages or a book. It is, in its skele- the same sort of a thing that will find compressed into adozen ines on the Ingenuities page of a Snnday newspaper. In B rebus you will have this cryptic symbel: DAL, .n4 without any waste of type you that: sre 1old This was the sin. when Peter lied, The sin for which he moaned and sighed. von may deduce signifies “denial” sstery story. sinister " man so his hand over his the blinding glare fashes, you led through an ex- cit episode before of the fnor villains confesses at the point of a revolver that the slayer, whose name even he does not know, has a glass left eye. With these trim- \yings of adventure, and with some illusion of reality or pseudo-reality. he mystery Story runs across many pages. But it Is essentially only & r sized puzzle (and often not a od puzzle), and it may be interest- & to compare the typical mystery story with the other traditional forms of puzzle—charade, rebus, ana- ~ram, word enigmh, word square, etc. * %ok K stery story heaps clue upon until finally from the ag- sregation of indicative points the secret is revealed (unless it sticks out before the tale Is a quarter done). In puzzles the counterpart of the reader is the solver. In the book the author does the reasoning, or should; in puzzles the solver has to do the reasoning himself. But the ratio- cinative process is much the same. As Bn instance of clue upon clue until the solution appears, take this word enigma, which was published several weeks ago: ENIGMATIC PROVERB. I am a sage proverb containing for- tv-two letters, which may be rear- ranged to spell many things. I am contributed by Kathryn Higginson, sie fourteen. My 1. 19, 32 coiffure. My 10; 31, 38, 25 is a plant from which sugar is extracted. My 6, 33, 8, 28, 13 Is a fresh-water fish. My 17,1 , 37, 2 is an insect. My 40,1 is a pronoun. My 39, 23, 30, 11 is the lowest piece a window frame. , 41, 29, 36, inkling rebus Rut 1 dark, clasps when this that the «D nigh AT) after the tangely izht eye rom am are ane FTHE my is to improve one's 14 is a bandit. kind of vase. 5 is a leap to avold a thrust. My 27, 9, 33 is a pronoun. My 24, 16, 11, 35 is a girl's name. The problem is to guess the words for which the definitions are given and by distributing the letters that constitute them to spell out the an- swer. The answer, we observe, is a No. 7. a bandit with six letters. Rob- | ber seems almost too simple, but we | note that the fitth number is 2—the last number of the insect was 2. The fifth letter of robber is and the last letter of beetle ls “e” That makes a good case for robber and beetle. Mark them down. No. 8 may be jar, or perhaps jug, or | urn. No. 9 stops us, since we don't know much about fencing. No. 10 is another three-letter pro- noun. No. 11—there are any four-letter girls’ names. But now, before going back to spec- ulate on the definitions we have passed, let us see what sort arrange- ment of letters we have above our numbers. We have this: E E B L 1234567891011 B T 1 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 2 B L E 29 30 31 32 33 o 40 41 42 number of E 29 28 24 35 * K X ¥ LOOK it over and one significant thing certain to strike you. Three times the letters B-L-E occur together. Now, BLE is a most common English termination. What word or words ending in BLE would be likely to occur in a well known saying. The first guess is “able,’ or some word ending in “able.” Shall we find an “a” as the letter before each or any of the “bles”? The numbers of these letters are 9, 28 and 35. The 9 occurs as the middle letter of a three-letter pronoun. No three-letter pronoun has “a” in the middle. Twenty-eight is the next to the last letter of the five- letter fresh-water fish. That does not fit in with either perch or trout. Thirty-five does not seem to oceur in any of the definitions. Not much of a case for “abl nother word that often occurs In wise sayings is “trou- “NO THIRD PARTY COULD HAVE ADMINISTERED THE POISON.” well known saying, and with half of the letters found we should be able to detect it. As the puzzle is com- posed by a girl of fourteen, we may suppose that the definitions will be <uch as a child of fourteen would give —not too rigorous. The best way to work the solution is this: The answer contains, we see, forty-two letters. Write down the numbers from one to forty-two and, as we guess a word Jdefined, write its letters over the numbers ascribed to them in the def- Initions. Take out your pencil and begin. - Glancing at the definitions, some are casy to fathom, some decidedly not. The first is a hard one. The second seems obvious. Tt is “beet.” Distrib- ute its numbers: b-10, e-31, etc. No. 3 is a fresh-water fish spelled with five letters. Perch, perhaps, or iaybe trout, or possibly something oise. That one can wait. No. 4, at a guess, is “beetle,” al- though (considering the juvenile de- finer) it may be “spider.” It is prob- \bly one or the other, so let it wait for a moment. No. 5 may be one of a number of pronouns spelled with three letters. No. 6 is almost certainly ‘“sash.” | ek sodeem, e ble.” You begin to suspect the an- swer now. The “ou” before the “bls" [fits beautifully with both the pro- noun “our” and the fish “trout.” It may be trouble. Fill it in in the three places where the “ble” occurs and continue a simple work-out, and you have, as you have already sur- mised, “Never trouble trouble until trouble troubles you.” As many clues and deductions as you will find in the best mystery story. § F Then consider the composition of a puzzle and that of & mystery story. In the mystery story you begin with the answer, & key happening of such character that you can present it in an incomplete guise that will seem exceedingly cryptic. You allow your reader to know certain aspects of this key happening, and give him more and more information yntil he arrives at the solution. You might begin this way: You hit upon a mur- der in which a young doctor, in order to inherit the fortune of an old and feeble relative, administers to both himself and the old and feeble rela- tive a poison which will kill the rela- tive and leave him only very iil. This clearly implies that some third party third party could have administered the poison. You show that no third party was interested in either's death. ‘Then you show that the young doctor should have detected the faint odor of the drug, since he was a deep stu- dent of drugs of that sort. Then you show that he needed money badly, etc. ‘When you sit down to compose a charade you begin with your answer, a word that admits splitting up into other words. Take “Burlington.” This can be turned into “bur,” “ling” and S “ton.”” The task then is to fit the four words into a suitable verse. Per- haps you will arrive at this trend of thought: As ingratiating as a bur, as intellectual as a ling, as hard to move as a ton, Is the town of Burlington, which gives rise to the following cruel poem, a difficult charade to solve If you haven't the answer: A FIRST {s just as pleasant, And quite as bright as SECOND; A THIRD Is no more ponderous; Of WHOLE I sing. THE KNIFE By Jean Rameau Translated From the French BY WILLIAM L. McPHERSON. R HONTANET always car- ried a certain knife with him. It was a bizarre imple- ment, more of a poignard than a knife. The single blade had the Spanish word “recuerdo” cut in it near the base. The handle was of horn and decorated with loud-colored flowers. There was a ring attached to it. In all it must have been about eight Inches long and didn't seem made for play. Hontanet had been struck in the back with this knife, one summer night, on & lonely road. He just escaped death. The would- be murderer—an unknown nomad who only wanted his victim's purse— had failed in his purpose. The soli- tary passer-by whom he had attacked Ead turned on him suddenly and fired two or three bullets at him. The nomad fled hurriedly, without even picking up his arm. ] The police had never been able to find the man. Hontanet, who Was then a student of medicine, slowly recovered. But he carried on his back a memento of the attack, and all gypsies were for him objects of & very legitimate resentment. Later he was a doctor of medicine and the mayor of his village. People observed without surprise—tor they knew the story of the Knife—that gypsy wagons rarely stopped In the village. Every time Hontanet noticed one of these wanderers he examined kim closely, drew the knife from his pocket under some pretext and care- fully noted whether the sight of the weapon troubled the nomad He had a strong desire to catch his assaflant and give him a term in prison. But the years passed and he didn’t discover the would-be assassin. The knife, at first statned with blood, then attacked by rust, had become, little by little, an ordinary pocket piece, with a polished blade and 2 shining handle. The owner used it for one thing or anothen—to sharpen a pencil, cut the leaves of a book or peel a pear. * % % * NE winter day there was a knock O at the door. A woman in rags to the servant: “":: there & doctor here? My father sick, very sick. Doctor come see him, for the love of heaven'” “Where is he?” “On the road. In the wagon. show him the way.” The servant reported to the master. “Gypsies?” said the latter. “T'll go.” He started immediately. He .was I then sixty-five years old. He was bent, rheumatic, feeble, ripe for the graveyard. But he walked with a relatively quick step, for a new EYpsy —that interested him. On the way he talked with the woman. «What's the matter with vour father?" “Fever. Very sick. Maybe die.” “Die! How old is he.” “Eighty years.” “What is his name? Is he & Span- fara?” “Oh! no monsieur.” “An Itallan?" “Oh! no monsieur. He is French. Good Frenchman! Doesn't like the boches!” “Good, good! We shall see.” They arrived. A cheap-looking wagon stood alongside the road, near a stream. - There was a little win- dow at the front, with red curtains. At the rear was a ladder with three steps, permitting ane to enter. The doctor climbed in. A plle of ill-smelling clothes in & corner. On the pile an old man, bearded and shaggy, with a skin which resembled moldy leather. “Well, my good fellow, you aren‘t well. Where does it pain you? The gypsy pointed to his chest and then to his head. “Stick out your tongue!” The man showed & yellowed strip of flesh between his black gums. “Give me your wrist, so that I can feel your pulse!” The man held out his wrinkled wrist. The veins were swollen, like bluish earthworms He looked {ll. There were strange lights in his eyes and ugly furrows at the cormers of his lips. The doctor asked himsalf: BTy He questioned the man and made him talk. “But I recognize you, my good fel- lok! Haven't you been hers before?" The patient protested. “I? Never, monsieur. been here.” “Are you sure? Come! It was about fitty years ago, a little further on. on this same road, one night In August. Didn't you lose vour knife one night in August?” “I, monsleur? Never! never lost a knife. As he said this his grizzled jaw trembled. A last tooth showed its broken point. “Good! Good! You have a high fever. You shiver from your head to your toes. How you shiver! 1 will leave you a prescription.” The doctor drew a note book from his pocket. On the pretext of sharp- ening his pencil he also pulled out the knife. Without taking his eves oft the gypsy he slowly manipulated the knife, let the blade spring back, wiped it, and made it eat into the pencil with little slashes—for ten seconds, for twenty seconds. He saw the sweat form in pearls on the sick man’s brow, his chest heavc and his eyes turn away. “In heaven's name! It Is you,” the doctor cried. “It was you who at- tacked me one night with this knife. Ah, you rascal! I have you at last * k *x X I have never Not 1! BUT the doctor turned around. At the sound of these violent words the gypsy woman had approached. And a child arrived also—a boy of four or five years, dark, fine, adorable under his rags. In his arms he car- ried a Cresh loaf of bread, which the baker had just made, no doubt—a big loaf of bread right out of the oven, smelling like bread from heaven. The child seemed proud to hold the loaf in his arms. He pressed it against his breast like a trophy, like a friend. AR, the bread of France! Always de- liclous in the mouths of the poor, bread the color of cheese and of the sun, which sometimes shows a dimple along its crust as if the fingers of an- gels had kneaded it! Tempted, the child suddenly put his Hlps to the bread And, since the mother’s eyes gave him permission, he bit into it delightedly with his four or five new teeth. The doctor sighed. He felt his heart traveling backward, as if to find its youth. He closed his lids over his moist eyes. He still had the knife in his hand. What should he do? De- nounce this miserable creature? What would be the good of that? The stat- ute of limitations had run long ago. Moreover, this old man, who was go- ing to die, who had already explated his crime, perhaps, even if he had not been In jail, ® ¢ ¢ Ah! who knows how much suffering there is in a transgressor’s lifel Who knows if a man who lives 80 long has not atoned for everything, little by little, in liv- ing out his days? So many of those days weigh on him as if they were executioners!. ‘The doctor wrote the prescription. He put it on the sick bed. Then he looked again at the child, who con- tinued to bite into the bread. “Walit!” he id. “Wait, my little fellow! I am going to cut it for you. It will be easfer.” And with the knife which had been an Instrument.of crime, the knife once stained with blood, the old doctor— his hands trembling, too; more, per- haps, than those of the sick gypsy— sliced off & big plece of bread and offered it.to the boy. The knife had been cleansed and re- habilitated. Hontanet stuck it into the bread as the other had stuck it into his back fifty years before. Then, with lower- ed head, he clambered down the shaky steps of the wagon. “Monsieur! Your knife! You forgot your knife!” cried the gypsy woman. But he pretended not to hear her. —_— | Clocks, especially exposed tower clocks, are apt to become quite dis- organised during & heat wave. ‘The cause {5 the same as that which causes rsils to buckle, for the expan- sion of the metal causes péndulums mtmoastialmeten . . ‘ T %, 1 BY E. H. lfllfi. OT long ago a certhin wealthy man who enjoys ¢onsiderable reputation in a gearby large city was robbed of $100,000 in Florida by means of fraudulent race track betting. The newspapers carried an item at the time of the swindle without details of the trick or the names of the rogues. Since then nothing has been heard of the affair. Through confidential sources the writer has just learned the details of this operation, the same kind of trick that has been perpetrated re- peatedly during the short season at the Florida resorts. At least a dozen prosperous men were mulcted of sums ranging from $25,000 upward, and the gang which got the money operated openly. The persons who furnished the in- formation for this article were, in a sense, connected with the criminals and have absolute knowledge of the facts. They estimate that at least $500,000 changed hands as a result of these crooked bets. The game played by the rognes was nothing more than a modernization of the 0ld wire-tapping racket. * K k¥ AT the beinning of the Florida sea- son two confidence men, whose names are well known in the under- world, went down to one of the most prominent resort towns there and cstablished themselves in two separate and extensive hotels. They were ac- companied by three women. One of these played the part of the first con- fidence man's wife and lived with him at the bigger of the two hotels, where the second woman also lived, alons and most decorously. She s an un- usually pretty girl, not more than twenty-five years old, well mannered, well dressed and athletic. The sec- ond trickster and the thrid woman lived at the other hotel, also as man and wife. Both the couples and the single girl managed to procure guest cards to the best country club of the neighborhood. A third man, who acted as the scout and information getter of the organiza- tion, remalned in the north, but made several brief visits to Florida and held secret conferences with his pals there. Early in February this scout went south with the information that a ocertain wealthy gentleman residing not far from New York was about to make a trip to Florida and that he was inclined to gamble and might prove a desirable sucker. This individual had engaged rooms at the hotel whefe the first “con™ man, his so-called wife and the single girl were stopping. For the purpose of telling the story clearly it is expedient to assign names to the various participants in this swindle, since their actual names can- not be used. I shall call the wealthy dupe Arthur, the first confidence man White, the second man Black and the single girl Miss Blue. For such readers as may be interested in the technique of confidence gaming it is also necessary to go into the ge- nealogy of the wire-tapping swindle briefly. This game originated in the middle west about 1885, when several wily gentlemen concelved the idea of tapping the telegraph wire over which the racing returns were sent from a cen- tral bureau in Chicago to the poolrooms in St Louis, Kansas City, Omaha, Den- ver, and other centers. They cut in on the wire and intercepted the results of the races as they were sent. Immediate communication was made by telephone to a confederate waiting near the pool- room, who was instructed to bet on the horse which had already won. After allowing time for the bet to be laid the tricksters forwarded the results to the poolrooms and collected thelr winnings. After a few killings had been made in this fashion the poolroom owners and the telegraph companies smelled a rat and took steps to make wire-tapping im- possible. The swindle had, however, be- come notorious and struck fire in the imagination of the country, a fact which certain other swindlers capitalized. * K X % A BOUT twenty years ago the wire- tappers began extensive opera- tions in New York under the leader- ship of the celebrated Gondorf broth- ers. The game had now been altered to suit conditions and no wire was tapped. Instead the sucker was dou- ble-crossed, to use the common under- world term. He was made to belleve either that he was betting on & race already run, whose results had been held up by means of the tapped wire, or, in a later development, that the race was fixed. At this period, or a little later, the Gondorf brothers op- erated several poolrooms about New York city, fitting them up as exclu- sive clubs and admitting only their confederates and the chosen dupes. Some of these lairs were running at the same time, so that the gang might move from one to the other at a mo- ment's notice when things got too hot. The manner of operating the swin- dle was interesting. Local gamblers and others on the fringe of the felo- nious world, in every smaller city across the country, wers informed of the layout in New York and encour- aged to send word when they had a good prospect, some local banker or other rich man who was inclined to be too greedy and known to take an interest in racing and other sporting events. When a local sharper locat- ed such a prospect he sent word to the New York gang and a steerer was sent out to the small town, where he passed himself off as & rich sporting man and was shortly Intro- duced to the victim by the local crook. The steerer cultivated the lo- cal rich man and soon took him to New York, where he was introduced into one of these fake betting clubs and made to believe that he was lay- ing his bets in company with mil- lonaires and. captaims of industry. ‘When the time was ripe and the dupe had been convinced that he wasabout to make a killing, he was got to bet some thousands of dollars on & race. Usually he got the tip & few minutes before the results were due to come in and rushed over to the club to lay down his money. Something always happened and the dupe was trimmed. 1t is interesting to mote how this old game was elaborated and its de- tails modified in the case of the $100,- 000 Florida trick. 43 soon as Mr. Arthur arrived at his Florida hotel. his discerning and roving eye became aware of the pres- ence of the handsome Miss Blue. He encountered her in the lobhy of the hotel as she passed in and out, He passed her as she was wheeled along fhe palontriased paike 1 hoe Swindling as Fine Art Practiced at | Fashionable Florida Resort When Wealthy Business Man Is Relieved of Fortune by Trick as Old as the Hills. Details of a De Luxe Operation Which Was Carefully Organized From Start and Included Hiring of Yacht for | Season. i ] cessful method. Always let the suck- er force himself in. Never drag him. Such is the rule. It wasn't long before Arthur made careful approaches. Black laughed and lightly dissuaded him. He had no tip for that day. Perhaps, in a few days, he might have something again The next time Arthur approached the con man more boldly, and Black. brought face to face with the problem of letting his new friend into his se- cret or snubbing him, consented to become confidential, with apparent re- luctance. Black had a little informa- tion on a race at Havana, but it wasn't any too sure. He advised Ar- thur to intrust him with a small sum —$1,000. That was enough to risk this time. The bet was made and Arthur won—on a ranking favorite at 4 to §, so that his profit w: only $800. But it was enough to fire him Without urging, he charged in and wanted to make a bigger bet. Accordingly, a few days later, Black let drop the information that he had a sure thing. Arthur immediately wanted to make a big play and asked Black what he intended to wager. “Oh, 1 think I'll lay about twenty- BLACK WROTE OUT THE THREATENING TELEGRAMS IN THE PRESENCE OF ARTHUR AND SENT THEM OFF IN CHARGE OF A BELLBOY, WHO THREW THEM IN A WASTE PAPER BASKET. When he went out to play golf she was on the links. But, try as he might, he could no more than catch her eye. She was obviously there to be seen but not to be approached. Arthur made cautious Inquiries about her at the hotel and found out merely that she was supposed to be from New York and that the hotel people had every reason to respect her. * x k% ATTER ten days of watchtul wait- “% ing Mr. Arthur met Miss Blue in o surf, as the result of a shark care. She was in swimming, and he, likewise, when some of the bath- ers took alarm at a passing school of porpoises. The girl apparently was panicstricken and Arthur went to her aid, in shoulder-deep water, please note. Thereafter his advances were coyly permitted. He dined the young woman, took her golfing and motor- ing and chair riding. In the course of one of these latter rambles Miss Blue and Mr. Arthur encountered Mrs. White, out roving alone. The women greeted each other famillarly and so Arthur met the wife of the first con man. Invitations to dinner followed and Arthur was introduced to Mr. White in a natural, polite and soclal way, having already been in- formed by the beautiful Miss Blue that the Whites were wealthy Chicago people and that Mr. White was a very clever and interesting man. And so Arthur found this veteran confildence swindler, who acted as the steerer in the operation which followed. White did no more and no less than the old-fashioned steerer in the days of the Gondorfs’ greatest suc- cess; did what every steerer has done since the remote days of banco and the green goods game. By cultivat- ing Arthur, by making himself so- clally agreeable, by dint of repeated invitations to outings and dinners that Invariably included Miss Blue and Mrs. White, the swindler soon got the friendship and confidence of Arthur and made him an intimate. Arthur, like most incautious men, talked a great deal about himself, grew confidential a% to his business and standing and did & good deal of boasting and showing off, for he was paying assiduous court to Miss Blue, who took all his pretensions with an air of ingenuous bellef and admira- tion. Now Black, tie principal con man, entered the picture. When Arthur and White were on the beach one day, watching their ladles parading and swimming, Black happened to pass without noticing any member of the group. But White pointed out Black to Arthur. “See that big fellow there in the blue flannels?” said White. “That's Billy Black.” Mr. Arthur pretended that he knew Black’s name, but couldn’t just place him. ‘White seemed surprised. “You don’t know Billy Black?” he queried incredulously. “Why he's the biggest bettor in the country. Cleans up a fortune every year on the races. I met him once at Havre de Grace, but he probably doesn't remember me." * * ¥ % O ARTHUR and White sat down in the warm sand and fell to talking about races, horses and the way the tracks were conducted and the futil- ity of betting unless one were on the inside, and especially of the Napole- onic operations of Billy Black. White assured him that this remarkable and subtle man had wires into all the leading racing stables, that he was the friend of all the richest owners and that, in addition, he was always ‘Was Arthur so innocent as to be- lieve that raciug was conducted on the level? What were these rich owners in the game for? The sport of it? Ha! That was for the digestion of the boobs that came and bet their dollars. White and Arthur knew, as business men, that eport was a busi- ness nowadays and that no one was out for anything but the money. No more was said at the time, for White knew with certain knowledge that his dupe would think this infor- mation over in the eolitude of his chamber, that his imagination would be stirred at Black's colossal adven- tures and that his greed would soon start forging chains for him. The confidence man is nothing if not a practical psychologist. He has under- stood for many years what Dr. Freud has lately expounded in sclentific terms, namely. that the mind of man | always translates and transforms whatéver it receives into personal and egotistio terms and images. White understood that Arthur would shortly be imagining himself in Black's skoes and thirsting for a slice of crooked winnings. A few days later the inseparable White and Arthur encountered Black | again. This time White went up and | spoke to the betting magnate, while | Arthur stood by. Black fixed White with a fishy cve and received him | with much resgrve, but after White had reminded his man of their pre- | vious meeting, Black unbent some- | what and received Arthur cordiall when White introduced them. But when White began to inquire a little familiarily how luck was treating| Black and how the ponies were run- ring. Black drew in warily and left Arthur with the impression that here was a cautious man, difficult of ap- proach. Arthur thought he knew a more diplomatic manner of proceed- ing and invited Black to dine. Black graciously accepted for himself and his wife. So & party of six got to- gether that evening, and as the result of rather free indulgence in good Biminl liquor the aloof and taci- turn RBilly Black unlimbered and made himsclf thrice agreeable.’ He wound up by asking his new friends to dine with him and his wife at his own hotel the following night. And Jater on he took the party for a cruise on a yacht he had leased for the sea- son. * Kk kO ARTHUR was duly impressed and continued to be further bolstered ard bulit-up, as confidence men say. When Black was away White told Arthur how great and wise a man this Black was and in the absence of White Black sang the praises of his partner in con. The women took a hand In this old and effective game, boosting one another endlessly to Arthur, but always with subtle flat- teries for himself hid in their words, till the hapless quarry verily be- lieved himself to be in the company of the elect. As these people grew more Intimate Black abandoned some of his reserve and began to talk of his bets and winnings. On one occasion he was furious. Something had gone wrong and he had lost $10,000, he said. Some one had disobeyed his orders. But he soon rallied and dismissed the matter as one of small importance. Such re(erses came along cccasionally, be- cause the machine he used was, after all, human. A little later on he came in triumphant with a fat roll of thou- five thousand,” easily. “IU's as sure as that?' queried Ar- thur. “It's briefly. said the chief con man pretty sure” sald Black * % x x POOL was made up into which Black put $25,000, Arthur $35,000 and White $10,000. Here the con men used on their victim the familfar in- and-in trick, commonly used in most con games. It consists of apparently risking and losing the money of the conspirators along with that of the victim, in order to disarm him in case he becomes suspicious when the play goes against him. What can & man say to his friends when they have ap- parently lost more than he? Can he berate them and revile them for their own misfortune? Black took the $60,000 and conduct- ed Arthur to the great gambling casino at Palm Beach, where he left his friend watching the play while he dodged into a side room and made the bet on the horse race. Late that afternoon, when the re- turns were in and it was apparent to the bewildered Arthur that he had lost $25,000, Black came into his hotel raging and swearing. He had been double-crossed by a jockey. Ar- thur might read for himself the ac- count of the race and see that the horse he had been led to bet on was ahead when the nags turned into the stretch, but it had fallen behind and finished in the rear. The jockey had pulled the horse. There was no other explanation. Black tore the heavens asunder with his profanity and threats of revenge. He wrote out threatening, furlous telegrams in Arthur's presence and sent them off in charge of a bellboy. Arthur did not stop to find out that this bellboy was paid to play a part and that none of the wires ever went further than the wastebasket. Then Black fell to lamenting and apologizing. Arthur ought to under- stand now why Black had been so reluctant about letting his friend bet. These things did happen now and then. It was unavoidable. To one who followed the races professionally these things were of no great import, save that they made one angry., But to have a friend lose his money. That ‘was too frightful! Never mind, Black would show this new friend of his how to recoup, good and plenty. A second build-up followed, with the result that Arthur went north and re- turned at the end of a week with $75.000 in cash. He put this into a pool of $200,000, the rest of the money being supplied by Black and White. * ok k¥ (QNCE more Black went to the Casino and gave the appearance of having bet the money there with a mysterious bookmaker, said to rep- resent a New York and Havana syn- dicate of rich men whose names were freely bandied about by the con oper- ators. The wager was ostensibly latd on an outsider, quoted at 6 to 1, but Black assured his man that there was no question about the result this time and that a fortune was as good 2s won. Of course no bet was lald. And & curious thing happened. 's horse, quoted at long odds in & fleld of eight and played by nobody but his owners and a few friends, came with- in an ace of winning the race, being beaten by the favorite by less than half a length. There was the usual exaggerated wailing and gnashing of teeth that sand and hundred dollar bills in his hand. He had won $40,000 that day. No suggestion was ever made that Arthur ought to bet his money on any of Black's races. ‘Indeed, the bettor was invariably inscrutable and se- cret. ,The con men knew, to be sure, that this was the cautious and suc- evening, and the con men =actuslly tried to get Arthur to go home for more money and make & third wager, but he was either skeptical or he had no more funds to lose. So he quit the game & hundred thousand out of wpcket.